So, the sun is shining, Ben is expected on the telly tomorrow night in the Hollow Crown, Setlock is well under way and I've had some time to myself to get on with some writing. All is well in my world and I hope it is in yours too. Hope you have an excellent weekend!

Chapter 11

It was Lestrade on the phone, finally he had another case and it couldn't have come soon enough. He had to lie to Lestrade about how long it would take him to get there knowing he needed to shower first before he could leave the flat.

As he stood in the shower washing he felt angry; angry that he had feelings and he couldn't seem to control them. John's words came back to him maybe not following your feelings will prove to be the greater distraction. He hated when he was wrong and hated even more when John was right. He hit the wall hard with the flat of his hand almost relishing the sting of pain until it reminded him of Molly using the riding crop on him. What was wrong with him? He couldn't get her out of his mind. Thank God he had some work to occupy him now.

MHMHMHMHMHMHMHMHMH

Molly didn't see Sherlock for the next 36 hours until he appeared in the lab with John in tow. They were in the middle of a serious and very high profile kidnap case, the wife of a senior politician, and so far their attempts to find her had proved unsuccessful. Sherlock was in a foul mood and John looked to be on the verge of punching his best friend.

'I don't know what you expect me to do Sherlock but I am not a bloody mind reader. If you need me to do something, if you want me to know something then I suggest you just bloody well say it and not expect me to just know it.'

'I apologise John I had credited you with a vast deal more intelligence than it appears you actually have. Maybe if you used your brain to engage with the case instead of spending most of your time thinking about sex we'd be further along.'

John snorted with laughter. 'I don't think it's my mind that's been corrupted by sex.'

Molly looked up nervously suddenly changing her mind about intervening in this fight.

'What exactly is that supposed to mean?'

'It means Sherlock that you're so busy thinking you're above all our pathetic human needs that you won't even acknowledge that denying yourself is compromising this case and you know it.'

Sherlock drew himself up to his full height, his eyes narrowing. Molly had never seen him looking so imposing or angry. Quickly she stood up, her stool scraping noisily on the floor and distracting the two men who looked in her direction.

'Listen...it sounds like it's been a difficult case so far. Maybe a break would do you both good. John, why don't you go home and get some rest; I can help Sherlock with any tests that need running.'

John pursed his lips and with a deep breath he unfisted his hands. 'Yes, maybe you're right. Text me if you make any kind of breakthrough.' He nodded his head at Molly and then turned on his heel and marched out as though he had been dismissed from a parade ground.

Sherlock sat down on one of the lab stools and washed one hand across his face. Molly still felt a bit nervous and confused about the argument they'd been having but he looked so disheartened that she found herself going over and putting her hand on his shoulder.

'Hey, are you OK?'

He shook his head. 'No, I'm not. I just can't seem to get a grip on this case Molly. I'm missing something and whatever it is it's vital. We have 24 hours left before the government either pays the ransom or she's killed and I can confirm that they absolutely won't pay and the terrorists will kill her. We have to uncover their hiding place...we have to...'

'When did you last eat or sleep?'

He waved a hand. 'Why does that even matter Molly? That's neither relevant nor important.'

'Yes, it is! Your brain might be one of the best in the world but it cannot function at its maximum without food and without rest. Now is there anything specific you need to do here?'

He looked around and shook his head. 'No, I just needed somewhere to think and here was as good a place as any.'

'Fine, well let's go back to Baker St. I can make you a snack, you can have a shower and a rest and I bet you anything you'll solve the case.'

He huffed loudly. 'I really don't think...'

Molly shrugged off her lab coat and reached for her bag and jacket. 'Do you have a better suggestion? No, well let's try it my way for once OK.'

In the end he just followed her out; too exhausted and worn down to argue.

The ride back to Baker St took less than fifteen minutes and Molly was true to her word. She heated up some soup and toast whilst Sherlock took a quick shower. She knew he wouldn't want a heavy meal but he needed to eat something. She was confident that once he felt rested his brain would kick into gear and he'd solve it.

SHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSH

Sherlock had to admit that Molly and John were both right in their own way. He did feel much better after his shower and the soup that Molly had made for him. He lay back on the settee and closed his eyes breathing deeply just as Molly asked if he wanted to talk about the case.

He stayed with his eyes shut but slowly and carefully walked her through the main aspects of the case. She asked a few questions but still the nagging continued. There was something there...he knew it.

Finally he opened his eyes to see Molly watching him quietly from the other side of the settee. She smiled softly and then stood.

'It sounds like you have a lot to think about. I'll leave you to it. Don't worry about the kitchen I'm off tomorrow so I'll sort it out in the morning. Good night Sherlock.'

He stood as she did and walked over to where she now stood, by the door. 'Good night Molly and...thank you.'

He made to do as he had done many times before; to kiss her cheek. He put his hand on her neck and as he leant in he saw her eyes flutter shut and felt her pulse increase under his palm. It felt as though it were in sync with his own. His lips touched her cheek and he paused. He felt something deep within himself shift in that moment and instead of pulling away he kissed her a second time slightly lower and then again a third time at the edge of her mouth.

He felt as though in that split second he would have been able to hear a pin drop, then she let out an almost imperceptible sigh and his lips finally found hers. She tasted of the wine that she had just been drinking and he let his tongue explore her mouth as he turned her slightly and pushed her against the wall.

He could feel her hands on his ribs; they seemed small...she seemed small and he felt a protectiveness wash over him along with other emotions that he couldn't quite make out and distinguish. He wanted her; in that moment he wanted her and as they kissed he moved one hand down the side of her body until he found her hip and he had to resist the urge to pick her up and rut against her.

His mind seemed to be both racing and yet still at the same time. Thoughts rolling around in his mind as he concentrated on every sigh and gasp and moan that they both made; and then all of a sudden he saw it. It made perfect sense...perfect.

He pulled away his mind already three steps ahead of his body, 'that's it! She must have known, and if she knew he knew. Where's my phone?'

He seemed to suddenly remember that Molly was there with him although he felt slightly puzzled as to why she were looking so dazed and confused.

MHMHMHMHMHMHMHMHMH

As he grabbed his jacket and coat she pulled herself together and retrieved his phone for him from the kitchen table.

'I need to get Gavin to pull the minister's financial records, I have no doubt he's in serious financial difficulties and was banking on the pay out to help him cover them.'

He was texting as he spoke then he wrapped his scarf around his neck and left the room. As he went down the stairs he shouted back up. 'I'll be back late, don't wait up.'

Then he was gone.

Molly sat back down on the settee before her legs gave out on her. She felt dizzy and slightly bewildered. What the hell had just happened? One minute she was saying good night to Sherlock and he was giving her a kiss on the cheek and the next they were making out against the wall like teenagers. She could still smell his cologne and feel his lips on hers.

Living with him was like being on a roller coaster and her emotions were scattered all over the place. She didn't know if she was coming or going; whether he liked her or he didn't. But dammit, he wasn't just a good kisser, he was...words couldn't describe sufficiently how he made her feel. She felt as though her body came alive under his touch and she wanted more. If he didn't...well, she couldn't stay, it would be too painful.

In the end she gathered the dirty plates and glasses and washed up. The mundane domesticity calming her fractured nerves. Then she made herself a comforting cup of cocoa and took it up to her room where she could think in peace.

It seemed to take her ages to fall asleep and when she did her dreams were haunted by Sherlock, his lips on hers, his hands caressing her awoke at one point almost calling his name. She felt so tired and yet so aroused. If she'd been any more awake she would have been almost tempted to touch herself but sleep took her again.

The third time was different. She woke with a knot of fear low in her belly as she realised she wasn't alone. There was someone else in her room.

Are we afraid? I'm not sure we are are we...hmm who could it possibly be in her bedroom? Answers on a postcard or failing that in a review and I'll be back soon with another update.