[Note: If you haven't seen Hitchcock's "Vertigo," be aware that this contains spoilers.]

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Summary: Don't be alarmed … it's to do with sex.

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~Saturday Evening, Half Past Six~

Molly Hooper shut the refrigerator door and hurried to the flat's entry when she heard Mycroft's usual three taps. She swung the door wide and pressed herself against him before he'd hardly stepped inside. Mycroft willingly participated in the kiss, but Molly pulled back when she realized he was holding his arms awkwardly to the side. "Sorry," she said, sounding anything but as she relieved him of a wine bottle and his umbrella - the latter of which she hung up for him - and then took the food carrier from his other hand. She left him removing his coat with a "make yourself at home" thrown over her shoulder.

Molly smiled when Mycroft eventually followed her into the kitchen, but then pointed her finger at him accusingly. "I just realized something, Mister Holmes …"

"Yes?" His brows lowered, but he didn't look too concerned.

"Did you deliberately avoid using your umbrella to tap on the door last Saturday? Did you change from your usual knock to surprise me?"

"No … maybe," he wavered at her skeptical look. "Perhaps I thought you might hesitate to open the door if you knew I was on the other side."

Molly's eyes held his for a few moments, then her lips curved. "Good enough." She ran her gaze down his body approvingly and her smile widened when she saw he'd already removed his shoes. "I'm happy to see you've dressed appropriately for movie night," she said, fingering the grey cashmere of his roll neck jumper. So soft to the touch … mmm. She was more surprised by the informality of his charcoal trousers. Moleskin … another soft material that was pleasing to touch. Had Mycroft actually dressed with that in mind? The thought made Molly blush, and she quickly turned away to open the food carrier. "Let's see what you brought."

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"You've never suffered from acrophobia or vertigo, have you?"

Mycroft looked at Molly where she was standing with her hand poised over the DVD tray and rolled his eyes. "No."

She started to lower the disk into the player then looked back at him. "And you don't have any secret geopolitical issues pertaining to San Francisco?" He didn't bother to reply other than an exasperated snort. "Not that you could tell me if you did," she said, smirking as she started the film and went to join him.

Mycroft looked up as she stopped in front of the sofa. "Where do you want to sit?"

On your lap, she thought. "This is fine," she said instead and picked up her wine glass before settling on the sofa next to him and curling her legs to the side. Mycroft slid his arm off the back of the sofa where it had been resting and slipped it around her shoulders, drawing her closer. Molly gave a contented sigh, then took a sip of Sauvignon Blanc and leaned her head against the side of his chest. Mycroft echoed her sigh as he lifted his feet to the coffee table, stretched his legs and crossed his ankles, settling deeper into the cushion.

And all Molly could think about was how close her bedroom was.

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Fifteen minutes into the film and … "It's a plot to murder his wife."

"What?" Molly looked from Mycroft to the screen, where Gavin Elster had just convinced Scottie Ferguson to find out what was going on with his wife. "How did you – never mind. Do you want me to put on a different film?"

"No, this is fine," he said.

"But if you already –"

"We can enjoy the scenery."

Molly looked at the screen and the restaurant scene where the mostly bare back of the leading lady had just been lovingly framed as her introduction. "Kim Novak or San Francisco?"

"Who?"

"The icy blonde?" Molly turned to look at him suspiciously. "You knew that, you rat."

"Isn't it bad form to notice other women when I'm with you?"

"You're not dead, Mycroft," she said. "Besides, I think Jimmy Stewart is rather yummy."

"You obviously have a thing for older men," he said thoughtfully, then glanced down at her. "Present company included."

"I don't think of you as 'an older man'," she protested. "Do you think of me as 'a younger woman'?"

"No, you're Molly," he said. "I don't think of you in generalities."

Molly decided that was a compliment. "Thank you." Twenty minutes later, she dropped her feet to the floor and shifted to get up. "You stay here. I want to make some popcorn – yes," she admitted at his raised brows, "I'm still full from the tagliatelle, but popcorn is an important part of the whole movie night experience. It's a Pavlovian response - you don't eat popcorn because you're hungry, but from a lifetime of conditioning." Molly laughed at Mycroft's puzzled expression. "I don't mean you you – just people in general." She braced her hand on the sofa back and bent to give him a quick kiss … which deepened and became more lingering when he curved a hand around her nape. "Mmmm," she murmured when he slowly pulled away. She opened her eyes and stared at him, then straightened abruptly. "I'll be back in a few minutes."

Molly glanced at the back of his head after taking the package of popping corn from the pantry. Maybe she could tell him she didn't really care about finishing their movie night – that she was ready for Mycroft Night to commence. Patience, she told herself. Being with a Mycroft who was seemingly content just to hang out with her for a while was worth practicing a bit of delayed gratification.

Molly set the bottle of wine and bowl of popcorn on the coffee table after a while and had just resettled beside Mycroft when she looked at the screen and suppressed a groan. Two minutes later, she again rose to her feet. "Sorry, I'll be right back." Less than ten minutes after that, she quietly left the bathroom and walked bare-footed toward the sofa. Having to watch Scottie tell Madeleine "I'm here - I've got you" just before passionately kissing her while waves crashed against the rocky shore ... well, Hitchcock's damned symbolism had been the last straw.

Fuck patience.

And what perfect timing since Scottie was once again desperately kissing Madeleine, saying, "We're together … There's nothing you need to do … You're safe with me …."

Mycroft glanced up as Molly came around the end of the sofa and hurriedly dropped his feet to the floor when he saw her determined expression ... and the dressing gown that was already sliding off one shoulder and was obviously her only covering. Her eyes met his as she straddled his hips and slid her arms over his shoulders and cradled his head and sagged against him when their lips met … and then his tongue was in her mouth before quickly retreating and she moaned and sent hers chasing after him.

She ended their tongue play with a gasp, quickly untied the sash of her dressing gown to let it fall open, then slid her hands down his chest, undoing his buttons as she went, feeling his muscles tense as she moved lower and worked her fingers between them, then finally sat back when the button at his waist gave way. He was already erect beneath her, straining against the fly of his trousers, and she shifted on his lap to give his fingers room when he muttered, "Let me." He carefully lowered the zipper, then slid his hands under her dressing gown and cupped her bottom, inhaling sharply when she carefully adjusted his clothing to free him and grasped his cock with both hands.

Mycroft watched silently, his breathing deepening, as Molly took a condom from her pocket, tore it open and rolled it slowly and deliberately over his length. Their eyes met as she positioned the tip, notching it between her wet folds, then lowered herself onto him inch by inch … her breath catching at the smooth penetration, the delicious friction from her flesh adjusting, opening, stretching, making room for him … the aching pleasure of almost-too-much fullness sliding deeper and then deeper still until he was fully seated … and then Mycroft's breath caught as well when Molly's muscles clenched in a sudden spasm and that silky warm grip tightened more firmly around him. Mycroft slid his hands from her bottom to her shoulder blades and pressed her forward as he raised his head and drew her right nipple between his lips, first teasing it with the edge of his teeth, then licking it with the flat of his tongue while Molly watched and her breath quickened. When Molly deliberately tightened her internal muscles, Mycroft's eyes drifted closed and she felt his muscles quiver as he drew a deep breath. After a few moments, his lids lifted and he stared straight at her, then lowered his gaze to her left breast and leaned forward to lick that nipple before pulling away.

Mycroft tilted his head against the back of the sofa and continued to watch Molly from under half-closed lids. She bit her lip, blushing as his eyes held hers while she rose and fell, taking him all the way into her on each down stroke. She paused and shifted on her knees to change the angle, then continued to ride him at a steady pace … and color rose under the skin high on Mycroft's cheekbones. She lifted her hand to his jaw, brushing her fingers over his lips, and he caught her thumb between his teeth, biting down gently before sucking her thumb into his mouth and rubbing his tongue over the pad before releasing it. He curved his hand around her neck and brought her lips to his, licking teasingly into her mouth when her lips parted. His tongue firmed and Molly sucked on its tip before drawing him deeper, brushing her tongue alongside his, then retreating with a final press of her lips to his before she leaned back.

Molly's eyes closed as she focused on the feel of the smooth glide of his cock, sliding deep, and the rougher friction as she rose almost off of him. She lifted her lids to stare at Mycroft as she lowered onto him again and pressed her mound hard against his pubic bone, feeling the brushed nap of his moleskins against her bottom as she rotated her hips and then gasped at the resulting sensation. She circled her hips a second time and Mycroft grabbed her bottom, fingers pressing firmly as he held her in place and he ground upward against her, relaxed onto the sofa cushion, and then surged upward again. Molly grabbed the sofa back and lifted higher onto her knees, spreading her thighs wider, then gasped when he pulled her down as he thrust upward, then again, guiding and lifting her as he flexed his hips repeatedly. Molly blushed when their eyes met, highly conscious of the wet sucking sounds their bodies were making as Mycroft worked her over him, audible proof of her … their … intense arousal. She finally closed her eyes, tilting her head so far back that her hair hung past her waist, and concentrated on her breathing and what was happening between her legs. She opened her eyes with a gasp when Mycroft slid one hand from her hip and over her belly, then rubbed a finger along her cleft, pressing its pad hard against her, rubbing, then pressing, and that new assault on her senses combined with the continued hard thrust and dragging retreat of his cock pushed her over the edge, leaving her breathless and panting, eyes squeezed closed, her body trembling and quaking as the orgasm spread shockwaves and heat from her core to each of her extremities.

Mycroft flexed his hips again and another quiver caused Molly's body to quake just as she opened to eyes to look at him. His eyes closed and the tendons in his neck tightened as he groaned roughly and his hips lifted off the cushion, jerking upward convulsively, once, twice and a third time before he sank onto the cushions, his body shuddering again then settling deeper into the sofa … and his lids partially lifted and his eyes met hers while his chest rapidly rose and fell. "That was … magnificent," he said, panting as he wrapped his arms around her and she collapsed bonelessly against his chest.

They stayed pressed together while their breathing slowed and a light layer of sweat dried on their bodies. Molly suddenly shivered at the feel of the room's air on her bare back and pushed herself off Mycroft and onto her feet, then put on her dressing gown while he removed and tied the condom. "Here – I'll take care of it," she said, then dropped it into her pocket and watched as he carefully tucked himself back into his trousers. A fresh wave of heat flooded her body, and she quickly pivoted and hurried toward the bedroom. "I'm going to have a quick shower," she said over her shoulder, then glanced back when she reached the threshold … and found Mycroft just a few steps from her. Another quiver ran through her when he followed her in and shut the door behind them.

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Mycroft tightened his grasp on Molly's hips to steady her when her foot slipped and her hand scrabbled for a hold and found nothing but shower curtain. "This would work much better in my shower. It has a grab bar and a glass door –"

"Stop criticizing my flat," she panted.

"That wasn't my intention," he said, groaning when she braced her hands against the tile wall and pushed back harder into his next thrust. "I was attempt –" His breath caught at the dragging slide of his retreat. "I was attempting to entice you to mine," he said, groaning again as he slid smoothly into the warm depths of her body. He bent down and pressed a kiss between her shoulder blades, and Molly felt the swipe of his tongue up the center of her spine.

Molly turned her head to look up at him questioningly, and his eyes held hers as one hand slid from her hip and down over her belly and between her thighs. "Oh, yes … that," she moaned, dropping her head and canting her hips higher to press more firmly against him. Mycroft worked his fingers farther between her thighs, and Molly squeaked when his next thrust caused her body to rub against the heel of his hand. "Oh god, do that again," she moaned, feeling the heat from her core spread through her belly and all the way to her cheeks, which tightened as the flush rose beneath her skin. She closed her eyes on another low moan and squirmed when he pressed the heel of his hand more firmly against her, massaging her flesh in a circling motion until she reached down to stop the movement of his hand. "Wait a minute," she panted.

"For what -" He broke off with a groan when Molly's fingers brushed against him.

"You're not ready –"

"Oh yes I am," he grunted, emphasizing each word with a sharp jerk of his hips. "Just. Let. Go." Mycroft felt his thigh muscles tremble and the ache in his groin increase and thrust even more forcefully. He took a firmer grip on Molly's hips and bent his knees to change the angle, then arched his head back and drove into her hard and deep, the sounds of their wet flesh slapping together and spray of the water hitting their skin finally being drowned out by Molly's cries as she came with a rush, gasping and shaking, her body tugging at his as her muscles squeezed and released, squeezed and released. He'd been hovering on the edge for some time and abruptly erupted with a choked-off shout, pressing inward as the orgasm ripped through him, holding himself deep within her.

Mycroft pumped a few more times, stroking more gently into Molly with each aftershock, bracing his arm against the tile over Molly's head, and finally felt himself slip out of her. His hands gripped her ribs, urging her to straighten, then he turned her to face him, sliding his hands down her back as he pulled her into a hard embrace. Molly gasped when Mycroft squeezed her bottom and lowered his head to kiss her. She shifted enough to reach past him without breaking the kiss and felt around until she located the tap and turned the water off.

Mycroft lifted his head at the sudden silence, then held onto Molly as she carefully stepped over the tub's rim. They separated to dry off and Mycroft eventually wrapped a towel around his waist and left Molly drying her hair while he went to the sitting room to straighten up after them – putting the DVD in its case, the wine in the refrigerator, the uneaten popcorn in the bin. He quickly washed the few dishes they'd used and left them to air dry as he returned to the bathroom. Molly's eyes met his in the vanity mirror as she worked the brush through her hair. He took it from her and gently smoothed the long lengths from the crown of her head to the blunt ends, then set the brush down and bent to kiss her bare shoulder. "Shall we go to bed?"

They removed their towels and walked naked to the bedroom, where Molly turned the bedcovers down and Mycroft moved around to the other side before stretching out on his back with a sigh. He glanced at her quizzically, then studied her expression more carefully when she stayed standing by the bed. After a few moments, he smiled slowly and lifted his arms toward her … and she swallowed thickly before crawling onto the bed and all the way on top of him, then relaxed and tucked her face against his throat with a sigh. Half past ten was early for either of them to go to bed for the night, he thought, but they could have a nap and be up again later. Mycroft felt a slight shift of the mattress and raised his head. A brief staring match ensued, and he considered shooing Toby off the bed, but mentally shrugged, pulled Molly closer, and left the cat to settle where he pleased.

The tension between Mycroft and Molly – whether they were together or apart - had built all week, and the sudden release of it … and in such an energy-sapping, though intensely pleasurable, manner … was sufficient for them both to slide into sleep before they knew it, and what was intended to be a short nap went on for more than five hours.

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Just before four a.m., Mycroft's hand slid up Molly's back and into her hair when he felt her stir. "I didn't bring a change of clothes," he murmured, cocking his head to look at her face in the soft glow of the bedside lamp they hadn't thought to turn off. "I'll need to go home and I think you should come with me." Molly listened to the low-voiced words with her right ear, felt their rumbling vibration through his chest with her left, briefly tensed at their meaning, but relaxed again as she slowly rubbed the sole of her foot along the outside of his calf. "I may not be familiar with the rules of an ongoing relationship," he said thoughtfully, "but at a minimum would expect both sides to be comfortable in the other's home."

Molly folded her arms on his chest and propped her chin on them. "I'm not avoiding your flat – I'm not," she repeated at his dubious look. "It's just that –"

Mycroft sighed when she didn't continue. "Think of it as visiting a theme park, Molly."

"A theme park? It's that big?"

"Oh for god's –" he broke off when he realized she was teasing. "Just consider it a place to experience adventures offered by such rides as The Shower of Carnal Delights and Mycroft's Magnificent Springing Mattress." He paused and rolled his eyes when she laughed at his whimsical notion, which he'd listened to with as much surprise as Molly. He'd have been appalled by his willing - and worryingly easy - descent into silliness if it hadn't seemed to be working. "My bed actually is quite firm. And tall," he noted as he ran his hand down her back and curved it under her bottom. "The thought is quite inspiring," he added gruffly as his fingers dipped between her legs.

Molly pushed herself up until she was straddling his stomach. "All right," she said, staring down at him, "you've convinced me. But be warned: My mother always had trouble getting me off a ride once I found one I really liked. For me, it was always make it go round again, again, again." She leaned lower, pressing her breasts against his chest as she whispered into his ear. "Again."