So following a big bout of family stuff I finally have some time back to myself and in celebration I thought I'd post the next chapter a bit early (plus Lilsherlockian1975 was nagging for an update). Thank you all for your comments and reviews, I'm glad you're all enjoying the direction I've taken the story in; well...we wouldn't want to get them together too quick, it would spoil all our fun.

Chapter 10

It was mid-afternoon before he made it into Barts. John had managed to come up with nothing case wise and Sherlock was starting to feel desperate. He needed something, anything to move his mind away from Molly.

John had asked him how things were going between them and had approved when Sherlock had recounted their conversation. He was still insisting though that Sherlock's 'feelings' for Molly might prove impossible to ignore and much though Sherlock had wanted to scoff at his assertions he couldn't quite bring himself to do it. He just kept remembering, with shame, his weakness in the shower.

He would overcome this, he was Sherlock Holmes, he could do whatever he damn well put his not inconsiderable mind to.

It was almost soothing to be in the sterile lab, to sit at his favourite microscope and to immerse himself in his tests.

He had been almost right about the samples. Two he quickly proved he'd already documented. The third took longer however as it was one of the more obscure types and he had taken some time to work out which of his existing list it belonged to. He then moved onto the fourth and felt his excitement levels increase as he began his experiments.

He barely noticed when Molly entered the lab and set up near him with her paperwork. They had done this a thousand times, sharing space, a companionship in their isolated activities. An hour or more passed before he was aware of Molly standing and stretching her aching muscles. She wandered over. 'Hey, how's it going? Is it a new type?'

He looked up and smiled openly, like a child getting just what they wanted for Christmas. 'Yes, yes I think it is. Take a look.'

He wasn't quite sure why he did what he did but instead of standing and letting her sit in his seat to view the scope he just leant to one side meaning Molly had to lean over him to look.

She was so close he could smell her, he could see the fine hairs at the base of her hairline, the ones that wouldn't fit up into her ponytail, which lay inches from his face. He had an overwhelming desire to kiss her neck just behind her ear and even moved forwards a little just as she turned to talk to him after viewing his slide.

Their faces were so close he could feel her breath on his skin. He saw her eyes dilate and her mouth open as though in anticipation of his kiss and he was almost at the point of doing it. Of just leaning in and kissing her but then she pulled away and stood; though he could see the effort it had cost her in the way her breathing had got heavier. 'I have to be honest Sherlock, I'm not sure I know what I was looking at other than it being tobacco ash but i'm glad it's what you were looking for. How many does that make now?'

'Well, I still have a few more tests but if I'm right 244.'

'OK well I'm finishing now. How long are you planning on staying, I can pick up some food on my way home?'

He knew he ought to make some sort of excuse and go anywhere but home but he found himself just agreeing and saying he'd be back in two hours. He needed a case!

MHMHMHMHMHMHMHMHMH

Molly got a phone call from Mary as she arrived back in Baker St carrying the ingredients for cottage pie. She was cheating a little by using shop bought mash but she couldn't be bothered with all that peeling and chopping.

'Hey, is he there? How's it going?'

'No, he's not here but he'll be back soon. And I don't know how it's going.'

'Of course you do, now tell me everything.'

Molly described their conversation this morning and her dropping her towel, she got a whoop of appreciation from Mary for that one. She also described that awkward moment that afternoon where she'd found herself tempted to kiss him before pulling away.

'No, Molly you should have just done it, seen what his reaction was. I can tell you for nothing I bet he would have kissed you back.'

'But what if he hadn't Mary, it would have been humiliating and we're only just back on an even keel from the other night. I don't want to risk it.'

'Well, you know my opinion on the matter and I don't think it will be long before I'm proven right. God, Lizzie's woken back up already. I'd better go, speak to you soon.'

SHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSH

Molly was just pulling the pie out of the oven when Sherlock got back and he was treated to a fine view of her backside as she bent over the oven. Her shirt had pulled up out of her jeans and showed off a sliver of skin and he had to take a deep breath to try to stop his mind plummeting into the gutter at the sight.

She glanced over her shoulder and smiled. 'Hey, you're here. Perfect timing, I'm just about ready to serve up so you have about five minutes if you want to change or anything.'

In the end he just removed his jacket, kicked off his shoes and rolled his sleeves up. He threw himself into his chair and picked up his violin, strumming it like a guitar as he watched Molly move around the kitchen.

Her hair was falling out of her ponytail and she had a smudge of some kind of sauce on her face but he thought she looked gorgeous. He'd never really admired her looks in a conscious way before but since she'd moved in he'd found himself noticing things more and more; her smile, the way her nose was slightly upturned, the warmth of her eyes when she looked at him.

He closed his eyes for a moment and concentrated on just breathing in and out, trying to still his mind. He was trying to get back to normal, to just thinking about work, but he was man enough to acknowledge that he was failing dismally. At times like these where it was just the two of them in the flat and he had no case he even found himself wondering why he was fighting so hard.

'Right, it's ready. Do you want to eat there or...'

He stood and went to help her with the plates, 'no, we can sit in our normal spot.'

They ate and chatted for a while until Sherlock couldn't bear it anymore. He leant forward, almost without thinking, and caught her jaw with his hand whilst he wiped the smudge away with his thumb.

'Oh,' her hand fluttered to her face even as her eyes locked with his, 'was there something there...'

He couldn't stand it any longer; he could feel her pulse under his fingers as they slid down to her neck and he could feel her physically reacting to his touch and it seemed to trigger a similar reaction in himself. Yet again he thought about just giving into it.

Instead he stood. 'Well, thank you for dinner Molly. I'll see you tomorrow.'

He didn't look back, didn't dare. He felt as though he had been on the brink of losing and Sherlock didn't like to lose but with her he felt as though he was at risk of losing everything.

He closed his bedroom door and leant against it breathing heavily. He'd be lucky to get a decent night's sleep tonight. But once again he was wrong. He fell into a deep sleep, one which soon gave way to dreams and in his dreams he had no control, no control at all.

She came to him wearing nothing but heels and a lab coat , her hair up in its normal pony tail, bouncing off her shoulders. She carried the riding crop which he sometimes used to bruise the corpses in her morgue but as she walked towards him swaying her hips provocatively she slapped the crop with a sharp crack onto the palm of her hand.

He already knew he was hard, he was always hard when she came to him in his dreams. He went to move his hands to reach out to her but he was stopped short. He glanced above his head, where he lay on the bed, and saw his hands were cuffed. He tugged again a couple of times but they didn't budge at all.

Just then he felt a stillness in the room before he jumped at the feel of the crop being drawn down the side of his body from his armpit to his hip bone.

'That's what I like to see Sherlock, a bit of attention. I don't like it when you ignore me.'

His eyes raked hungrily over her body taking in the low cleavage and the expanse of thigh visible where the buttons on the lab coat had been left undone. He felt his erection bob against his stomach desperate for its own bit of attention. Molly licked her lips and slid the crop over his stomach making his skin twitch and dance.

He felt a trickle of fear at how close she was to his erection with the crop and he watched the end of it in a morbid kind of fascination.

She lifted it and with a quick flick and a burst of sharp, sweet pain she hit his thigh. 'I said eyes on me!'

His eyes immediately came back to her as he felt the crop idling down his leg.

'What should I do with you Sherlock! Hmm, you think you can on ignore me, you think you can suppress how you feel about me.'

There was another whistling noise and the pain flickered on the opposite thigh. She smoothed over the spot with her hand making him groan, wanting to feel her sliding onto his cock.

She seemed to know where his mind had gone and she climbed onto the bed kneeling at his side with her hand trailing up and down his hip, fingers dancing dangerously close to where he wanted them but not close enough. He tried to move his body but she shifted with him always keeping just to the side.

'You want me Sherlock! In every sense. You want me in your life, in your home and in your bed. You just won't admit it. Where do you want me now Sherlock?'

The moment he thought it the dream seemed to shift and he was sat on the edge of his bed with Molly knelt between his legs sucking him off. He moaned and bucked his hips up forcing his cock deeper into her warm, wet mouth. His hands were in her hair, tangling and tugging feeling her teeth scraping down his shaft and her hands squeezing and playing with his balls as she took him deeper. He was on the verge of coming when she sat back and looked up at him; licking her lips and smiling sinfully, 'you want me on my knees do you?'

The dream shifted once more and now she was on her hands and knees on the bed completely naked and exposed to him. She looked over her shoulder. 'You can have me, if you need me, anytime. Do you need me Sherlock?'

He found himself nodding his head as he scrambled to join with her, 'yes, God...yes I need you. I need all of you.'

He took hold of her hips and sank himself into her until he was balls deep with no more of himself left. She felt perfect; tight, warm, wet. He could hear himself moaning as he withdrew and plunged back in watching his cock entering her and feeling her muscles tighten and contract around him as she started to come.

'Tell me you need me...tell me!'

His orgasm washed over him and he could hear himself agreeing with her. 'I do, God Molly, I do. I need you!'

He woke suddenly still calling her name but hearing his phone ringing, dragging him from the dream. But it was too late his pyjamas were a sticky, ruined mess and it felt as though his life was too.

Poor Sherlock, I fear he is fighting the inevitable. Should he just go ahead and give in or do you want more teasing?