A/N: As per my last note, this is now set after the events in "Thunderball." Some of you asked for a John/Molly kiss which...I felt a little funny about, so this is what I did with it. For some reason, I can't save your name here but thank you for the prompt about Molly's phone (we both know who you are and perhaps that enough!) x
The danger had passed.
Secure in the knowledge that Molly was safe and back at St. Bart's, Sherlock walked towards the morgue with two cups of coffee. Sitting in the back of the ambulance at the crime scene, he had tried (and failed) to find the words to tell her how much she meant to him.
Not today.
Today he was determined to set the record straight, if only to remind John and the others that she was his.
Speak of the devil and he shall appear, he thought to himself as he stopped outside the door and caught sight of John talking to Molly. He was about to make his presence known when John took Molly's hand in his and, to Sherlock's mounting horror, leaned in. He watched in slow motion as John closed the small distance between them and kissed her.
The two cups of coffee fell unnoticed from his hands; he was too late.
Sherlock sat up with a start to find himself on the couch at 221B, he took a moment to take stock of his surroundings and to assure himself that it had all been a dream. Or a nightmare to be more precise.
Whilst the last few months watching John and Lestrade with Molly had alerted him to the danger. The nightmare roused him into action: this was no time for sidestepping around the truth and using words that could easily be construed as merely friendship.
He had to tell her, now.
He stood up and was about to rush out to the morgue when it occurred to him that, given recent events, she might have taken the day of. He huffed with annoyance as he pulled out his phone and fired off a text.
Where are you? – SH.
He frowned as the faint sound of tinkling bells drifted around the flat; his eyes narrowed as he isolated where the sound had come from.
Sure enough, sitting on John's bedside table was a phone in a pink cover.
Sherlock grit his teeth as he fired off another text, this time to John.
We need to talk – SH.
...
A/N: 'The Talk' is coming up in the next chapter, I promise - I just want to tweak a couple of things x