Thank you to all the readers, as well as to the people who reviewed last chaspter:
Magicstrikes- that line popped into my head out of nowhere, I had to use it. Lol.
Thestarlitrose- I'm glad you are enjoying the fic. Couple more chapters left.
Ligya- lol. That's funny. Not too shabby of a scene for a virgin writer, I t##ake it? Glad you liked it.
Feyfangirl- lol. I like the wide eyed dude. O.O he's cute.
Juze- I think John would have been more apt to go in, were it not for Mary being with him, mainly because he wouldn't have noticed. Lol
Petra Todd- glad you like it, it actually took me forever to write it because I wanted it to be perfect, so I'm glad you like it.
Almightyswot- squeals...glad you liked it enough to squeal. :D
I don't own anything Sherlock or Molly. Bummer.
Chapter eleven:
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Sherlock had woken sometime in the night, his mop of curls sticking to his face. His face was laying on something smooth and warm. He picked his head up, and gazed up the plains of cream colored skin and up to Molly's face. Her eyes were closed, and she wore a serene smile on her sleeping face. Sherlock carefully pushed himself off the couch, trying not to stir her. He then picked her up and quietly carried her to his bedroom. Molly let out an unconscious sigh as he laid her in his bed. Sherlock stood above her, taking note of her form. He bent down at the foot of his bed, and carefully undid the small buckles on her heels. Her feet naturally reflexed closer to her as his hand brushed past the bottom of her arch. He set the shoes aside, and decided he would linger with her a bit longer. Sherlock carefully crawled into the bed on the other side, and pulled the white sheets over them both. He watched her, memorizing the way her lips parted, mapping the amount of breaths she took in an hour. He catalogued every detail he could about her as she slept. He eventually decided to leave her to rest, his mind obviously not tired. Sherlock pulled a spare sheet around him, and walked out to the living room. John was seated in his chair, glancing at the paper. Sherlock strode past and into the kitchen.
''Well, good morning. How was your evening?" John asked cheekily. Sherlock ignored the question, and proceeded in making tea for two. John shook his head, and turned slightly in his chair to stare at the tall pale man. He looked like a sleepy Greek god, wrapped up in a white toga sheet. His hair was ruffled and out of sorts. John grinned slightly, and Sherlock turned to return to the sofa.
''John. How was your evening with Mary? I trust the movie was worth the admission fee?" Sherlock asked sardonically. John rolled his eyes before answering.
''Yes, Sherlock. The movie was good. Mary and I had a lovely time. Meanwhile, you were here...with Molly. How did that go?" He asked. He saw Sherlock grin from the side of his mouth.
''She was very convincing in her speech to me as to why she felt I neglected her. She was wrong, of course, but all is right in the world. The balance has been restored, as it were.'' He said in his clipped tone. John's grin grew as he looked around the room, the evidence still scattered on the floor.
''So, that's it then? She talked...and you listened?" He asked, slightly incredulously.
''Yes, well. She was very...persuasive...in making her case.'' He said, turning his head to the side, and reaching for his tea. John now grinned from ear to ear, as he sat forward in his seat.
''You totally shagged her.'' He stated. Sherlock opened his mouth, and was cut off immediately by John holding up his hand.
''No, nope. Don't even try to tell me it didn't happen. If you wanted to keep it a secret, you shouldn't have taken off your clothes and left them about the living room.'' He said, his head pointed toward the scattered garments. Sherlock sat still, before he attempted to speak again.
''John, I was not going to deny it, merely that -'' John looked at him.
''Sherlock, it's okay. I'm glad you finally worked out your feelings for the girl. The next time she's over, at least leave a sock on the door. Had Mary and I walked in earlier, we may had seen some things...'' John continued on in his Rantings. Sherlock rolled his eyes and waited for the inevitable. As John spoke, there was a small sound emerging from hallway. Molly walked out, also only covered by a sheet. Her hair was curly and messed up, and her body had a pinkish glow to it.
''Sherlock, have you seen my bra-'' she cut her thought short upon seeing John. He looked back at her, a deep blush rising to his cheeks. Sherlock chuckled.
''Oh John, you see, yet still lack observational skills. If you had looked closer to the evidence, you would have seen two sets of clothing, not just the one.'' He said, walking toward one of the small piles, and picking it up. He then walked over to Molly, and handed it to her.
''Here you are, Molly. Brassiere and underwear, as well as blouse and slacks. All accounted for.'' He said, placing the clothes into her arms, before leaning in to kiss her cheek. He leaned into her ear and whispered seductively.
''Your shoes are in my bedroom.'' Molly blushed before wordlessly excusing herself to get dressed. John's eyes were still wide, his mouth gaping just slightly. Sherlock laughed at the sight.
''I did try to tell you she was still here. Yet, you insisted on yammering away.'' John's face flushed again, as he let out a nervous chuckle. Molly came out moments later, and grabbed her large bag from the floor.
''Where are you going?" Sherlock asked, sounding slightly sad. She chuckled and kissed him on the lips.
''I have to go quit a certain ''waitressing'' job.'' She said with a wink, her fingers poised in air quotations. He grinned, and followed her with his eyes as she left.
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Well. Only one more chapter to go. Kind of an epilogue sort of thing, just to prepare yourselves. I'll post it later in the day, after I edit it. Hope you like this chapter. I wrote it at work. Lol. Thanks for all the stuff...and stuff. Love you my dears!
