Author's Note: I know, you hate me. It has taken me an inordinate amount of time to finish this story. I totally understand your anger and frustration. I am so sorry. I have no excuse except the business of life.

By the time Molly returned to her flat her face was puffy with tears and she felt like an awkward mess in the fancy dress. Nothing felt right. She took the dress off and carefully hung it up. She then washed all the make-up off that she had taken so long to properly put on and collapsed into her bed intent on hiding from the world for as long as she could. Sherlock had called several times but she didn't want to talk to him. He was just a reminder of what a fool she was. The tears were just starting to subside when she heard something at her bedroom window. She lifted her head to make sure she was hearing right and then it came again, a light tapping on the window. She got up and pushed back the delicate muted yellow drapes to discover Sherlock crouched on the fire escape. "Open the window Molly." He said firmly.

Molly was so startled she instantly opened the window and let Sherlock climb in. "Bloody hell Sherlock what are you doing?!" He climbed into the bedroom and straightened out his coat. "I was avoiding the paparazzi at the front of your flat. We definitely will be featured in tomorrow's gossip columns, just not in the way I intended. I just didn't want to add to that by them seeing me come to your flat." This launched Molly into tears again and she turned away from Sherlock so he couldn't see. Sherlock took off his coat and scarf, laying them over the back of the soft over stuffed chair that stood in the corner of Molly's bedroom. He then took the seat and pressed his fingers together as if he was about to solve a case. "Molly Hooper you are being absurd. Now stop crying and sit down." She turned on her heels, "I'm being absurd? You are the one that insisted we go on some ridiculous press tour of a dinner. That isn't me Sherlock!" And she sat down on the edge of her bed, arms crossed against her chest defiant. She sighed softly and then proceeded in almost a whisper, "This isn't a good idea Sherlock." And she gestured between the two of them.

Sherlock didn't even flinch. "Molly, do you know why I come here? Why I'm even trying to make this relationship work?" Molly shook her head silently. Sherlock stood up and put his hands in his pant's pockets. "I'm the smartest person I know. Smarter than even Mycroft, although he'll never admit it. I don't understand the need for social niceties and I find small talk and the foundation on which relationships built to be tedious and contrite. I realized by age 16, after several girls had slapped me in the face, that I was not a person for whom relationships would be successful. I am unlovable." Sherlock said this so matter of fact that Molly didn't even try to argue with him. Although the shock of somebody thinking they are unlovable seemed surprising to Molly. At this point Sherlock stood up and started pacing in Molly's room. "When we, Mycroft, John and I, were in Eurus' madhouse of fun, Mycroft turned the coffin lid over and the only thing it said was, "I love you" – it was obvious that Eurus was looking to bury somebody who loved me." Sherlock raised his eyebrows to stress this last point. "John and Mycroft were incapable of thinking of a single person who might fit that description," and at this Sherlock kneeled down in front of Molly as she sat on the edge of the bed so he could look into her eyes, "I knew instantly who it was, because there is only one person who has the ability to love a high-functioning sociopath." And at this he leaned up and kissed her on the forehead. He leaned back on his heels and looked at Molly waiting on a response.

Molly's desire to fight had waned. She no longer wanted to push Sherlock away. "I'm sorry about tonight. I'm sorry I ruined your plan." Sherlock smirked, "You think I care about what the press write?" Molly smiled already knowing the answer. "You are the last chance I have at being connected with this world darling. Without you I'll end up like Eurus." Sherlock seemed equal parts desperate and confused. Unsure of what to do with these new feelings. Molly couldn't help but to reach out and press her hand gently across his cheek. She spent most of her time feeling uncomfortably vulnerable around Sherlock but she was beginning to realize that he was vulnerable too; this relationship was a risk for both of them. Without thinking for another moment Molly threw her arms around Sherlock and tackled him to the ground kissing him and laughing at the same time. "I'm such a klutz! Did you see me at that dinner?" Sherlock smiled, "yes darling, but you are MY klutz"

They spent the remainder of the evening watching "The Bachelor" and eating cold pizza that Molly had leftover in her fridge. Although it wasn't the fancy romantic date Sherlock had planned it was just perfect for Molly. As the moon rose and the earlier disaster faded into the past Sherlock turned off the television and stood up, offering his hand to Molly. He pulled her up off the couch and held her tight around the waist nuzzling her neck. "At some point you really will have to let me take you out on a proper date. I won't stand for keeping you hidden up in your flat like some sort of treasure that is never meant to be seen. I have this completely illogical desire to show you off." Molly groaned a little, "oh please don't show me off. Can't we just go to pubs, and order Thai food forever and ever?" Sherlock rocked her back and forth in his arms taking in the way she smelled, a little bit like the lab mixed with the vanilla perfume he had bought her. "forever and ever feels like an awful long time to eat Thai food." Molly just wanted to stay there in his arms all night – every night. She was contemplating what the future might look like with Sherlock in it when suddenly there was a firm, loud knock on her door. Sherlock took two long strides across the floor and looked through the peephole. There stood John, looking anxious and serious. Sherlock opened the door and gestured for him to enter. John met Molly's eyes and offered a sheepish smile, "sorry to ruin your evening." Molly shrugged, "it's okay. I already managed to do that." And shot a childish smirk at Sherlock who returned her look with a smirk of his own. "Mycroft said you weren't answering your phone so I told him I would run over here and grab you. We've got to go Sherlock, there has been a new tape received from Moriarity, or somebody claiming to be Moriarity" Sherlock quickly ran back to the bedroom to grab his jacket and scarf and returned ready for action. He kissed Molly quickly, "Sorry Love. Lock the doors when I leave and keep your phone close by in case I need you." This is the way it would always be – the job, the late hours, the long absences, punctuated by short periods of romance. She offered him a weak smile and a nod of agreement. He was half-way out the door when he hollered back, "I love you Molly Hooper!" She smiled knowingly and locked the door securely.