Now I see why some people misunderstood Chapter 9. When I wrote Sherlock's inner voice (John), I used the word "shagging" instead of "snogging" so obviously some people thought he indeed cheated on Molly. A few people pointed this out to me and I am grateful for that. But you know, I wrote that chapter at 2 a.m. in the morning as I said before and I guess a slight (maybe not so slight…) mistake can be acceptable, right?

Anyways… I can't even begin to describe how happy you guys made me with your supportive reviews and PMs. I was not expecting that after those negative reviews I got, so you guys have to know that your support and faith in me/my story brought tears to my eyes. I've tried to answer each and every one of you but if I slipped and forgot anyone, I'm sooo sorry! Thank you thank you thank you.

Okay, I guess I started babbling again. So, let's head to the new chapter, shall we? And don't worry, this chapter explains everything (:

A/N: English is not my native language so please ignore my grammar mistakes if there are any. Thanks!

Disclaimer: I own nothing but this fanfiction. All credit goes to Sir Arthur Conan Doyle and BBC.

Beta'd by Bellarsam Chrisjulittle ^^ Thank you so much darlin!

John took a deep breath to stay calm when he saw Sherlock approaching him. They had decided to meet up and talk about a few things that John was craving to know more about. Sherlock had purposely left home early in the morning when Molly was still sleeping. He didn't want to wake her up because then she would start asking questions. It was obvious that she was suspicious of his weird behaviour. Molly wasn't a stupid woman and he knew he couldn't fool her. One way or another, they were going to have a chat. He couldn't escape his fate for too long.

Sherlock saw John and expected a punch in the face, but John only stood there taking rapid breaths. He could see that John was trying so hard not to punch him as hard as he could, and Sherlock appreciated that. They were going to sort this out like two gentlemen—

Nope. They were absolutely not going to sort it out like two gentlemen.

John punched Sherlock in the chest—because he didn't want to leave a huge purple mark on his face that Molly would notice and ask what the hell happened—and regretted nothing. Both knew Sherlock could easily stop him; he just didn't because he thought he deserved it. Sherlock felt like a piece of shit, so he just let John punch him.

"How could you, Sherlock?" John hissed at him, gaining a reaction from a few people on the street. He looked around and noticed people staring at them. Then he grabbed Sherlock by his arm and dragged him into an empty alley.

"How could you do this to Molly? How could you have sex with The Dominatrix, for God's sake?" This time, John didn't even try to control his voice. He was yelling at Sherlock with all his might.

Sherlock felt something boiling inside him. Then he named it: anger. He felt bad and John was making it worse. Wasn't John supposed to be his best friend? He should've stood by his side instead of being such a dick. Sherlock most needed his friend right now. He needed advice. He needed his friend to tell him he could fix this.

"Stop talking so loudly!" Sherlock snapped at John. "I didn't have sex with her, I told you that!"

John narrowed his eyes and took step towards him. "She answered your bloody phone and you were getting dressed, Sherlock. You cannot even lie properly!"

"And you cannot even deduce properly!" Sherlock deadpanned. "You came to only one conclusion by just one sentence I told you. I could have come with a hundred of conclusions!"

"Oh, I'm sorry! Not everyone can be the great Sherlock Holmes!"

"Shut up!" Sherlock yelled at him and saw John's fist coming right at his face. He dodged to avoid his punch and jumped at him, knocking him down to the ground. They struggled with each other for a few minutes before they both gave up. They were panting and anger could be seen clearly on both of their faces. But they knew they were acting childish.

John suddenly felt guilty for acting like this to his best friend. No matter what he did wrong, John should have been by his side. Yes, Molly was a dear friend too, but Sherlock came first and he could have at least listened to his excuse for having sex with Irene Adler.

As if Sherlock heard his thoughts, he said, "I didn't have sex with her. Let's just go somewhere and we can talk about this thoroughly." Then he stood up and helped his friend stand up by holding out a hand.

Sherlock started walking to the street and John followed him.

"Where are we going?" he asked Sherlock.

Sherlock sighed. "I need a drink."

When they finally got into a pub and Sherlock had ordered two beers, he started explaining what happened that night...

*Flashback*

Irene opened the door of her hotel room. She got into the room and removed her jacket, throwing it on the bed. She glanced at Sherlock who was still standing at the door, obviously hesitatant about going into to the room.

Irene smirked and dragged him into the room by his arm.

"I really wonder whose life you ruined to pay the rent of this suite room," Sherlock murmured as he removed his coat too. He put it on the chair by the fireplace and sat on the chair, putting his fingertips under his chin.

Irene opened a bottle of red wine and poured it into two glasses before sitting on the other chair that was right beside Sherlock's. She handed him one of the glasses and saw the hesitation in his eyes before he took it from her. "The man shouldn't have cheated on his wife if he loved her so much," was her only explanation about the matter, and that made everything clear to Sherlock. At first, Sherlock pitied the man a bit, but then he realized that he was doing the same thing as the man did. Sherlock was not married, but right now Molly thought he was on a case and trusted him. He felt a sick feeling in his stomach. He shouldn't be in this hotel room with The Woman. He shouldn't be anywhere near her at all.

"So, tell me, Mr. Holmes. Any interesting cases lately?" Irene asked seductively. She loved listening him explaining his cases. It aroused her.

"Yes."

"Would you mind telling me?"

"Yes."

"Are you being stubborn, Mr. Holmes?"

"No."

They looked at each other for what seemed like an eternity to Irene. So she put her glass of wine on the coffee table in front of them and finally made a move on him. Sherlock held onto the glass in his hand as if his life depended on it. But Irene didn't notice it and attacked his lower lip, taking it in her mouth.

Sherlock noticed he was holding his breath and when she bit his lower lip, all his sanity slipped away from him. He had been thinking so much about the situation and his mind palace started giving warning signals to him. The fight he was having with his inner self became a heavy weight on his shoulders and he felt sick. His hands started trembling, and he knew he was about to have a panic attack. Suddenly, his hold on the glass lightened and the glass fell on the ground, spilling the red wine onto his shirt on its way to the floor.

Irene gasped and moved away from him, looking at his red wine stained shirt. He cursed under his breath and stood up from the chair fiercely. Without noticing what he was doing, he removed the shirt and went to the bathroom to clean it. Irene followed him to the bathroom and watched him trying to remove the stain angrily. She wrapped her arms around his waist from behind him.

He stopped cleaning the shirt and shut off the tap before turning around to face her.

"Whatever you think is going to happen—"

Before he could finish his sentence, Irene had crashed her lips on his once more. Her lips were passionate upon his, begging for entrance. Sherlock, for a few minutes, didn't open his mouth but then her gentle hands caressed his bare back and he couldn't hold himself back anymore. Her hand caressed his bare back up and down, their tongues dancing with each other. They tasted each other, noticing the faint flavour of the red wine they'd just had.

Then suddenly, Sherlock's mind palace opened the door to Molly's room and he saw her there, staring at him with tears on her cheeks. How could you do this to me? How could you? she screamed at him before slamming the door shut in his face. Sherlock knew it wasn't real but if he kept kissing The Woman, it was going to become reality. He was scared. He didn't want to lose Molly.

He abruptly broke the kiss, trying not to focus on Irene's hot red lips. He pushed her aside not so gently and grabbed his shirt before leaving the bathroom. He wore the wet shirt, not giving a damn whether it'd cause illness to him or not; the phone call from John that Irene answered while putting it on only made him feel worse. He just wanted to go home.

So he took his coat and wore it on top of his wet shirt. Irene was following him everywhere like a little puppy, protesting to him going.

"Please, stay!" she begged him and grabbed his arm tightly when he made his way to the door without uttering a word.

But enough was enough.

He let go of her hand on his arm and grabbed her by the shoulders, shaking her as hard as he could. "Just leave me alone. Get it? Leave me the fuck alone or I will kill you myself, woman!" he threatened her and watched her cry loudly as he stormed out of the hotel room. He still felt her lips on his and he hated himself. He wanted to vomit and remove this ugly desire in him. Then he cursed the day he started feeling sentiment. His life had been easier without these feelings.

*End of flashback*

...Sherlock took a big, shaky gulp from his beer when he finally finished telling the story and looked at his friend. John could see how devastated he was and how he regretted everything he had done. John felt bad for being suck a dick to him. Sherlock looked really tired and shaken from the things that had happened, and John had to be there for him.

"I'm sorry mate, I truly am," John said and gave a sad smile to his friend as he finished off his beer.

Sherlock sighed and took his head in his hands. "John, please, tell me what to do. Tell me how to get rid of this ugly feeling."

John patted Sherlock's shoulder. "Go talk to Molly. Explain everything to her like you just did to me. Yes, she will be angry and sad, but this is the only way you can get rid of your guilty conscious. Avoiding her is not the answer. You've got to be sincere to her and make her believe you love her and not anyone else."

"What if she leaves me?" Sherlock groaned and took another sip from his beer. "God...When the hell did I become so… so… domestic?"

John chuckled. "Women change us, and we don't even notice how they manage to do it."

"I guess you're right," said Sherlock. "I'll talk to her. Today."

John smiled at him and ordered another beer from the bartender. "I'll have to talk to Mary, too."

Sherlock frowned. "Why?"

"She, uh… She heard me talking to you on the phone."

Sherlock groaned and face-palmed. "Jesus, John! You've never been this stupid before!"

"I didn't know she'd be listening!"

They both shut up at the same time and glanced at each other before bursting out laughing. Their nerves had been a wreck for a few days now, and all they needed was to relax a little bit. Alcohol made them lightheaded and for the rest of the day, they didn't care about anything. But when Sherlock finally went home and faced Molly, he knew being lightheaded wasn't going to help him get through this.

She folded her arms on her chest and waited there for him to start talking.

"We need to talk," Sherlock stated before approaching her, his legs feeling dizzy because of the alcohol in his system.

"Are you drunk?" she asked him, her brows knitted.

Yes. "No, no." he replied, and heard his innerself scream at him: You big idiot!

God help him, he was absolutely screwed.

Okay, so I hope I cleared things up for everybody now! And don't worry, Drunk Sherlock is going to get through this just fine. But you might expect a big explotion from Molly's side ^^ Obviously she's going to get mad, who wouldn't? But their relationship is strong. I think they can handle it. I will make them handle it, no worries ^^

Again, thanks everyone for believing in me and my story! Your support means a lot and I cannot thank you enough. I hope you enjoyed this chapter and I'd appreciate to hear your opinions on it.

xoxo Louvreangel