Ringing, endless ringing that reverberated through his head was all Sherlock could hear. Two days since, what he now termed 'The incident' had passed, and still that incessant ringing was all he could hear. Blasted woman why did she have to slap him? Once the adrenaline of the whole even had worn off, the marvellous day was not so marvellous anymore, his head hurt. Granted the proclamation was a bit of a shock however, was this not what she had always dreamed of? Ignorant to the ways of women Sherlock had promptly been thrown out of her flat, in front of that oblivious and ignorant woman who called herself mother. Upon returning to Baker Street Mrs Hudson took one look at the red raw imprint of Molly's hand on his cheek and laughed, in fact he could still hear the occasional chuckle now. Of course the good landlady was no help, once she got most of the laughter out her system she took a photo and proceeded to forward it to all of her 'knitting group' and the station. When prompter for advice she simply shook her head and meandered back into her flat, this left Sherlock Holmes alone and confused.

Taking out his phone Sherlock glanced through his meagre list of contacts, someone must know how to help: Anderson, Lestrade, and Molly absolutely out of the question, Mrs Hudson, Mummy, Mycroft. No help there then, Anderson would probably have a heart attack, Lestrade cannot even successfully maintain his own relationship, Mummy would jump for joy at the prospect of his marriage no matter how fake and Mycroft, well enough said there. There was only one alternative left, Sherlock turned to the internet, the general consensus seemed to suggest that before a proposal there should be a process known as wooing. This required further research, flowers, dates and chocolate seemed to be the usual. Shuddering Sherlock put down his phone and cringed, if all this pathetic soppiness was what it took then embrace it he will, retreating to his mind palace Sherlock formulated a plan.

Headphones on the solitary figure of Molly Hooper weaved in and out of the morgue tables, whilst absentmindedly singing along to livin' la vida loca by Ricky Martin, occasionally dancing when the song reached the chorus; she made a relatively happy picture for such a dead environment. All of this was noted by the assessing gaze of a certain Mr Holmes, who stepping out of the shadows gave the petite pathologist quite the fright.

Stumbling to turn off her iPod Molly frantically removed her headphones and shot an accusing glare at her unwelcome visitor. "Mr Holmes what can I do for you? Any particularly sensitive corpses you wish me to study, to lie about? Or perhaps there has been a security threat? A…"

"Miss Hooper, please do call me Mycroft after all you do appear to be my forthcoming sister in law, do you not? No there has been no such thing I merely came to inquire about this, shall we say, delicate situation you seem to have found yourself in."

"Oh err, well you see…" Molly stuttered caught off guard "Mr Ho… Mycroft excuse me, this really is none of your business. This is between me and your bloody brother. I mean what right does he have, and involving my mother like that, what sort of man acts like that?"

Politely clearing his throat, Mycroft adjusted his tie, straightening what was already pristine; he was not used to the wrath of a woman berating him. With this the mortuary doors burst open with and bang and the accused figure of his little brother emerged into the room. Two sets of eyes turned at once to glare at him, Sherlock looked taken a back. Molly glared as the weight of the situation was becoming increasingly clearer to her and Mycroft for his stupidity. Excusing himself quietly Mycroft silently slinked out of the room, pleased that Sherlock had provided the necessary distraction needed for him to escape.

Electing to ignore Molly's deathly glares Sherlock thrust a bouquet of red roses at her face a triumphant smile upon his smug face, looking down at them and back up at his face Molly cocked one eyebrow, hand on hips and stared.

"Well?"

Sherlock's brow furrowed in confusion "Do you not like them? This is what women like right? A dozen red roses, for god's sake I knew I shouldn't have trusted those blasted websites…"

Interrupting him right there molly shouted "Sherlock shut up! Normally this would work, granted I would normally be thrilled to bits, instead you have just made things 100 times worse. Do you really think giving me roses is going to solve things? Maybe once upon a time but I'm no longer that naive young girl I used to be. I want answers and I want them now, tell me Sherlock, why did you do it? Did you not know that that would be wrong, screw the case?"

Electing to ignore her protests Sherlock opted for plan B; leaning forwards he grasped either side of her head and planted his lips on hers in a messy, greedy kiss. Molly startled at first a little uncertain before closing the gap between their bodies, she sunk into the kiss twining her fingers in his hair. Unknown to both of them a certain detective inspector had just entered the lab, whipping out his phone D.I. Lestrade snapped a quick photo and snuck back out of the morgue, frantically forwarding the picture to all of his colleagues, Anderson would be delighted.

Neither participant was aware of how long it had been, so lost in each other's presence were they, that when Sherlock broke the kiss, both gasped for breath. Resting the foreheads against one another their eyes met, both wore a look of shock. This was not a part of the plan; something had to have gone wrong so, panicking Sherlock took off, Belstaf flowing around his ankles. Left alone in the, what now seemed dismal, morgue Molly Hooper smiled.

Across London several people took out their phones at a text alert from D.I. Lestrade and smiled, one in particular whooped with joy, Anderson's O.T.P. had finally shown to be true! Two people were silently reflecting and both wore an unknown small upon their lips, whilst this was only supposed to be part of his plan, Sherlock Holmes had stumbled across the unexpected, Molly Hooper was a woman, a woman he had an interest in. In immense confusion he retreated to his mind palace to regroup and reconfigure his plan, if only the blasted feel of her lips would stop racing through his mind.

A/N:

Hi everyone, this chapter was fun to write, I hope you like it! It seems I have finally broken through the writer's block and can back on track, so stay tuned (if that works for fanfics) as there will be more coming your way J

Thank you for all your positive reviews and votes, I love them and they only encourage me to write more, tell me what you thought of this chapter.

Love you all,

Sherlolly- Sweetness