Sadly for me this is the last chapter in the story. Thank you so much for following and reading it. I'm thrilled that you like it. :-*

"Greg?"

The anxiety in Molly's voice pierced the thin layer of sleep that had eventually settled uneasily over Greg.

"Yes, sweetheart." he managed hoarsely. 1:37 am said the mantel clock.

"I, I thought you went to the building again, I didn't know where you were…" She sounded worried.

"I'm right here," he said. The Empire Building. She must have been dreaming.

He rose from the sofa and went to the open bedroom door.

She was sitting up in his bed. The robe and towel had fallen off and now his shirt was starting to follow; sliding down her small shoulder, one delicate breast almost visible. Her eyes were wide and soft from sleep, her long hair tousled and loose.

On seeing her, he stopped abruptly in the doorway and folded his arms tightly across his chest. So powerful was the physical desire coursing through him at the sight of her like this, in his bed, that he was afraid to move. How many times had he dreamt of a moment like this? His beautiful, beloved Molly asking him to come to her….

But she wasn't, really, was she? This vision of heaven wasn't real. He closed his eyes, his chest tight with the almost physical pain that this realization brought him.

He hadn't imagined that he would fall apart like this. He'd thought he could handle it, but too late, he realized he could not. The timing was terrible, his judgement impaired by fatigue and emotional turmoil. But he started toward her anyway, stopping abruptly just short of the bed. He was going to ask. He had to know if she didn't or couldn't love him.

She was staring up at him with some uncertainty, "I was worried about you…."

"Why Molly, why would you feel that way?" His voice felt strained. Please say it's because you care about me Molly, please, he begged silently.

But she looked away. She wasn't going to answer him, he thought despairingly.

He felt his chest clench again and heard his voice, unexpectedly harsh with pain, "No Molly! Don't look away. I want you to answer me, to tell me."

Suddenly wide-awake now, her eyes flew back to his, wide and shocked at his tone and his words. Oh. And she was angry too, he realized, suddenly confused.

Yes, it seemed she was angry for she flared back at him, "What is wrong with you Greg?! How dare you order me to do anything?!

The shirt fell lower over the slight curve of her breast, but she didn't notice. She paused, drew a deep breath and asked only slightly more calmly, "What do you mean, Greg, anyway?"

He hadn't meant to upset her but he wasn't sure how to stop now, "I mean Molly, why do you like me to be with you, to talk to you, comfort you, hold you, carry you in my arms, to kiss and touch you?"

This made her blush fiercely. "I don't want to talk about this with you!"

"Why not, Molly?" he asked insistently.

She was angry again. "That is none of your business!"

That hurt. He swallowed and retorted, "Maybe it is my business. Try me."

Apparently this made her angrier. "No, I will not! I don't have to tell you anything. I don't just do things because you think you can order me to, Greg!"

Then frustrated, she blurted out unthinkingly, "I won't tell you because if I do, you'll feel sorry for me and I hate that. You'll feel like you owe me something or you'll feel like you have to be noble. You'll pity me….and I don't want that."

She stopped then, greatly regretting this outburst. But since Greg seemed to have become silently rooted to the spot, she continued, this time more quietly, almost sadly, "Greg, it doesn't matter how I feel about you, I just want you to be happy and…free. You deserve that and you said that you were lonely. You should get married again…to someone…to someone who, who is…right for you. You would be wonderful husband and you'll make someone very happy."

He was firmly frozen in place now; his arms had fallen to his sides. His twisting emotions had deserted him leaving dull misery in their place. She was being honest and courageous; it was he who was not. She had trusted him, despite how difficult it was for her to trust anyone, but he hadn't trusted her or himself…

Finally, he said huskily, "Molly. Please. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have pushed you like that. Please say you forgive me."

She could see his distress. She sighed softly. "Of course, Greg, it's okay."

He drew a shaky breath; still looking at the floor where his eyes had dropped by the time she'd finished her angry outburst. "No, it isn't okay." he said in a low voice. "Nothing is okay." He stopped and then asked, "Can I tell you something?"

"Alright," she said cautiously.

"Molly, I'm in love with you, really in love with you, desperately in love you and its making me crazy. That's what's wrong with me. I thought I could handle it but I can't. I'm afraid. I only want you to love me; that's all I know anymore."

"Oh, Greg," she said tremulously.

When he still didn't look up, she reached for his hand and tugged it. "Do I have to order you to look at me? Is that how it works around here?" Then she tugged his arm again, so strongly this time that he staggered toward the bed.

He sank onto it beside her only to now look up at the ceiling instead of the floor.

"Of course I love you Greg! I love you, I want you, I daydream about you all day, I fantasize about you all night and when you aren't with me I count the seconds until you are again…I didn't tell you because I thought maybe you were just being nice; helping me to be not so shy and scared of…things. I don't know anything about men. I'm…..kind of ignorant that way and I didn't know what you thought of me, really. I just wanted you to be happy, that's all, because I love you, so that's why I wouldn't tell you….. I thought you might feel guilty or not take me seriously because I'm younger than you."

He remained silent so she said encouragingly, "But everything's okay now, because you said you love me. It's all okay and I'm very happy, very happy…"

He still wasn't saying anything, so she added, "When you feel like it, I'd really like you to kiss me."

His ashamed, miserable, tired and confused mind stopped turning in exhausted circles and latched onto the last request. That he could do, he thought, he could kiss her. And had she said something about him being a good husband? That was important for him to remember for later…that and about fantasizing about him all night…that was good.

She was starting to look a little anxious again by the time he sat up because it was taking him so long to respond.

But now, rapidly gaining his confidence and his mental clarity back, he reached slowly toward her shoulder and tenderly brought the wayward shirt back up to cover all of her again. Of course she loved him. He thought back over the past month; she had been handing him a precious gift and he hadn't recognized it as love.

He had let his insecurities blind him and had doubted her. He had made her sad too and maybe even almost lost her. The notion that she might be wanting to sleep with random men; he must have been completely insane! He was ashamed he'd ever even thought of it. He had let her down. That will not happen again, he vowed to himself. I am a better man than that.

"I'm very happy now too, Molly, very happy," he said, and with the utmost care and gentleness he drew her to lie against his chest as he leaned back against the headboard of the bed. He made loving circles with his hand on her back as they rested.

"Let's never fight about our feelings again, okay sweetheart? That was awful." His eyes were watering, "Actually, I don't want to fight about anything ever again. Let's never have another fight, okay?"

He felt her smile against his chest. "Okay," and then he heard, "I guess that means that you won't be throwing around any more orders, Mr. DI?"

It was his turn to smile. "Agreed," he said.

He kissed the top of her head lovingly, held her tightly and felt the tension start to melt out of his body at last.

Molly said softly, "I love you Greg. So much. I love you with all my heart. I have for a long time. I pretended I didn't at first because I didn't think you would ever love me back."

His arms tightened crushingly at this.

"I've always felt geeky and unattractive…and you're brave, kind, considerate and so good-looking…and I didn't want you to know how messed up I was. Then after I hit my head and panicked, I was embarrassed. But you kept coming to the lab to see me, and I started to feel hopeful, like maybe you liked me. And I started to feel pretty too, beautiful when I was with you. I felt…happy… and I was so in love with you by then, I couldn't think at all, I just wanted the feelings to never stop."

Greg couldn't speak, his throat was tight and his eyes were watering again. He gently drew her up his chest until she faced him and losing himself her beautiful brown eyes he kissed her thoroughly; happy at last to be able to give her all the love overflowing his heart.

End

Note to readers: we all know that we don't need a partner to validate our sense of self-worth, right? So I hope you'll forgive me for this flight of romantic fancy. In my defense I tried to make Lestrade just as insecure as Molly in the story.