Good tidings to you lot. Wow look at that, 10 chapters. Thank you all so much for putting up with me and reading my story that started off as just a little one shot. I once again want to apologize for any spelling/grammatical errors. I'm really horrible for not proof reading very well. I hope you enjoy this chapter. Let me know what you think. Drop me a review. Don't be shy. Keep on keeping on. xxx

"Sherlock! Are you going to get that?"

Sherlock rolled onto his stomach on the sofa and covered his head with a pillow.

The door bell buzzed again and he heard heavy footsteps coming down the stairs. "Bloody hell Sherlock, would you answer the door for once instead of just laying there?" With a disgruntled noise, John continued down the stairs to get the door.

Sherlock stop paying attention once he heard the muffled voices coming from downstairs, focusing instead on listing every element in the periodic table, along with their atomic mass and ionic charge. There was no other word for what this was. Sherlock was bored. This was the tenth time he had ran through them that day. His breathing was slow and he appeared almost comatose.

Bored!

"He's on the sofa. I'll be upstairs." John's voice came from the door of the flat before he retreated back into his bedroom. There was a new presence where his had been. Petite. Timid footsteps. He suspected who it was before she even spoke.

"Sherlock?"

"Hello Molly." Sherlock's voice was muffled by the pillow and the sofa cushions but he didn't move them away from his face.

"I um… I brought some of the things you had in the fridge. Or rather… I rescued them. Anthony was cleaning it out and was going to throw them away, so I snuck them out for you…"

Sherlock pushed himself off the sofa and stood up. "Thank you." He spoke stiffly and took the box that Molly was holding, taking it into the kitchen. He set the box on the table and decided to make a show of examining each one of his possessions. Samuels. How dare he throw these out. He'd only been there for a month and it was technically Molly's fridge.

He looked up when he heard the door of the flat click shut. Had Molly left? No. She appeared at the door to the kitchen looking edgy, as if there was something she wanted to say.

Molly nervously worked the loose string on the sleeve of her jumper. "Sherlock… I… I wanted to apologize for what happened when you were last at Bart's."

Sherlock furrowed his brow in what looked like confusion. "What happened?"

Molly's heart sank slightly. Did he really not remember? No, he had to. "I… look Sherlock, I'm sorry I yelled at you after you… after you kissed me." She lowered her voice, not wanting anybody else to overhear their conversation for both of their sakes.

"Oh, that. It's fine." He didn't sound cold or upset. In fact, he spoke as if she were apologizing for accidentally bumping his cup of tea onto the floor.

"Oh."

Sherlock continued looking through the box and started to meticulously put the items in the already full fridge. It seemed as though John had pulled out all the stops to try and bring up Sherlock's mood. He probably had enough body parts in that fridge to build a whole other person.

"So um… I hear you haven't had a case in a while."

Sherlock hardly looked up from his task at hand to respond. "You are correct. I know John told you. It was obvious that John received the leg from you and knowing him, he'd have appealed to your wanting to help me, in order to have to deal with little fuss when asking to take a body part home."

"Right… did you like it? The leg I mean."

"It was adequate. It served it's purpose."

Molly didn't know what to say. How was she supposed to start the conversation she both so desperately wanted to have and never have ever at the same time? Hey Sherlock, so I was just wondering if you'd like to explain why you've kissed me on multiple occasions. God, that made her sound like an idiot. So instead, they stood there in silence, Sherlock with his back turned to her.

"Molly, why did you run away?"

Molly wasn't sure if she had heard him, or if she had just imagined the quiet voice that came from the fridge.

"Sorry?"

Sherlock wasn't sure what made him say it. It was obvious that Molly wanted to talk but didn't know what to say, and Sherlock, who loved silence but absolutely hated awkward silences, needed to break the silence.

"I said, why did you run away?" He turned away from the fridge and looked earnestly at her. "In the lab, when you kissed me. You ran away. I was going to ask why when I went to your flat that night but you were a bit… incapacitated. So I'll ask now. Why did you run away? You initiated it."

Molly blushed and lowered her eyes to the floor, obviously flustered by the fact that he had been able to start the conversation she had wanted to have. "I don't really know. I guess I was just… embarrassed about being caught."

"…embarrassed." Why had she been embarrassed? Was he embarrassing? Or was he just being horribly conceited right now. Because you're the clever detective in a funny hat? The Woman's words echoed in his head. But Molly didn't think anything like Irene… did she?

"Well, how would you feel if I started snogging you at a crime scene?"

"I don't think I'd mind actually."

"R-really?" Molly's face went an even deeper red. "But it's a crime scene. You can't snog at a crime scene!"

"Why not? I don't think the body's going to care all that much." Why were there so many rules about what he could and could not do at crime scenes?

"It's just… well it's not very professional is it? And that's my point. Kissing me at work… "

"Need I remind you that you initiated said kiss."

"Fine! Getting caught kissing me at work is not very professional. It doesn't look good on me."

"…fine. I won't kiss you at work anymore then." Sherlock turned back to the fridge. He couldn't help but feel like it wasn't that it didn't look good on her, but that she felt he didn't look good on her.

"Right… thank you." Molly could feel her heart drop into the pit of her stomach. The way in which he spoke gave her an inkling that he wouldn't be kissing her anywhere anymore.

Good job Molly.

She took a deep breath and decided to just go ahead and ask what she had been meaning to ask him in the first place. She couldn't do more damage than she had already done… right?

"Why did you kiss me? That day on the floor in the office. Why?"

Sherlock didn't speak for a while, his back still towards her. "Because I wanted to."

"…why?" Her voice was soft, her tone magnifying her low self esteem.

"Why do I need a reason for wanting to kiss you?"

"Because you don't just wake up and decide you want to kiss somebody. There has to be a reason. Why have you kissed me again, then?"

Sherlock turned around to face her again, his lips about to form words.

"Oh, you are still here. I wasn't sure." John appeared behind her and Sherlock's mouth snapped shut. "Do you two want to go out for dinner?"

Sherlock looked back and forth between the two of them. "No." He kicked the door of the fridge closed. "But I'm sure Molly would like to." With that, he scooped a pile of books off the table and retreated into his bedroom, the door closing with a sharp thud.

Molly turned to John, who had a curious expression on his face, and smiled. "Where are we going then?