"Molly, you need to sleep." Sherlock said sitting on the edge of the small bed. The old woman (Mattie she had told them) was more than happy to give them some old clothes. She insisted that she would hang their wet clothes to dry down in the kitchen while she lent them some dry garments. Sherlock had gotten her son's old trousers. They were loose on him and cut off mid-calf. Molly had gotten on of Mattie's old nightgowns. Mattie was much larger than Molly, so the nightgown hung off of Molly's shoulder. It hung loosely on her frame and rested on her feet.
"I'll just stand over here for now, if you don't mind." Molly replied looking at the ground. She had gotten one look at Sherlock's bare chest and refused to take her eyes off of the wood floor.
"Molly, you can't stand there forever. You'll have to come into the bed eventually." Sherlock rolled his eyes and leaned back onto the bed.
"Nope. I'll stand here. The floor looks quite nice."
"There is no need to be that way." Sherlock snapped sitting up "Now come over here; you look like your freezing."
"I'm fine. And why do you care?" Molly snapped back, looking up. "You've dragged me across the countryside, let me get stuck in the rain and you didn't seem to care!"
"We're going to do this now?" Sherlock sighed and went to rub the bridge of his nose.
"You could have brought John-"
Sherlock laughed bitterly. "Have you seen him lately? He's too busy drooling over Mary Marston. I'd be surprised if they aren't married within the month"
"What about Lestrade?" Molly shot back. "He could have come."
"Don't be ridiculous, Molly" he shot back, harshly "He's an idiot"
"He's your friend!"
"He asks too many questions! He's a part of Scotland Yard which means I can't work freely. I do what I have to do to get the culprit and sometimes that involves questionable things. Besides, it's one thing for a woman and man to walk unsupervised together. It makes it seem like they are courting. It's another thing if two men are walking together."
"Why is that so bad?"
"People talk." He shot back.
"So it's ok if they talk about me?!"
"Yes, it is" he replied stubbornly. "That's why we're up here, away from everyone, you know. Mattie didn't want others to hear us 'making a baby', if you understand me." Molly's face went tomato red and she looked down at the ground again. "Besides, with the small size of this town, I'd be surprised if you aren't already rumored to be pregnant." He added in a hushed voice
"I'M NOT OK WITH THAT!" she yelled. Sherlock's eyes went wide. "I don't want to whole town to talk about us! Mr. Collins will might tell everyone that we aren't married! That could ruin my reputation!"
"What reputation?" Sherlock snorted back. "You cut dead bodies up for a living. You hardly have a gentlewoman reputation. Besides, no one here knows our real names."
"They know what I look like, don't they?" Molly replied.
Sherlock rolled his eyes. "Why do you care? Is it really that bad to be hypothetically in a relationship with me? Am I really that horrid?" He lowered his voice at the last part and stared at her. There was a new look in his eyes; something she hadn't seen before. He almost looked hurt.
"It's not that…It's just…No, you're not." She smiled shyly. "You're not horrid at all. I've just had a long day and I needed to take my frustrations out on someone" She replied glumly. "I'm sorry I yelled at you."
"It's fine." Sherlock said and patted next to him on the bed. She relented and walked over to lay beside him. "Thank you, by the way" he said as she laid down. He covered her with the blankets. They were lying face to face and Molly could feel his warm breath. "What you said was very kind." He began to wrap his arms around her.
"What-what are you doing?" She flushed.
"Trying to get warm." He replied simply. "The closer you are, the more body heat we share. I decided that you would like this better than the alternative" Molly could have sworn she could see him blushing.
"What's the alternative?" Molly asked, curious.
Now the blush was unmistakable. "It would involve a lot more…skin to skin contact" He replied simply, gauging Molly's reaction. He swears to this day, her face had never gone so red. He pulled her closer, keeping his arms around her.
"Are you comfortable?" he asked, staring at the wall.
"Yes, I'm fine." He heard her say. She wrapped her hand around his back. "This is quite warm." She yawned.
"Get some sleep Molly." Sherlock whispered, subconsciously rubbing her back.
"mmmmmhhhmmmm" she replied, her eyelids heavy. Soon enough, she fell into a peaceful sleep. Sherlock looked down at her petite form snuggled into his chest. He felt a funny feeling in his stomach that he had come to associate with Molly. The funny feeling had been coming more and more often, and Sherlock was beginning to worry about what it meant. He wanted to stop the funny feeling, but at the same time, every time he got the feeling he suddenly felt incredibly happy. It had a stronger effect on his mind than any drug ever had. And as he looked down at Molly's sleeping form, he suddenly wanted to stop time so he would never have to more on from this moment. He had the sudden urge to kiss her. 'Where did that come from?' he thought. 'Why would I want to kiss her?' He was startled when she moved in her sleep, edging closer to him. He smiled down at her, moving a strand of her hair behind her ear. "Goodnight Molly." He kissed her forehead "Sweet dreams."