Hullo! I know I'm such an awful person for making you guys wait so long for this! I had major writer's block and I just got Supernatural season 7 on DVD so I've been watching that nonstop seeing as I have never seen season 7. Castiel *sigh*. Bobby *cries*. Anyways here is the 21st chapter! Whoop whoop! Enjoy! :D

Molly's POV

I woke up to sunlight glaring down on my face and stinging my tired eyes. I rubbed absently at them and rolled over to face the other way hoping to find what I was searching for. I was greeted with an empty spot on my bed, the covers lay open. I rolled my eyes at how ridiculously early Sherlock must get up at when he actually sleeps and got out of bed. I straightened out my tank top pulling the strap over my shoulder again and ran a hand over my ridiculous bedhead. Walking into the kitchen I found a half drunken cup of coffee and Sherlock was nowhere in sight. Panic washed over me and I quickly ran into the living room. He's gone. I ran back into the kitchen looking for some sign of where he could possibly be. I inwardly kicked myself as I took way too much time trying to find a note that was directly in the center of the counter. I took the note in my hands and read:

Molly,

I've gone to follow up on some enquiries about Sebastian Moran. Much too dangerous for you I'm afraid. Don't be mad. I'll be back as soon as I can. You're going to be mad at me anyways aren't you? Seeing as you'll be mad at me I have something to say that I believe you may not have heard. Now this is hard to say even thought I know it's true. I love you. I love you Molly Hooper and I'm not just saying it because it's you want to hear. I'm saying it because I mean it. If I don't say I love you back in the future please feel the need to slap me upside the head.

-SH

My heart leapt with joy as I held the note to my chest. I probably looked ridiculous right now and I'm glad he told me in a note so he didn't see the state I was in. I sat down hard on the kitchen chair, my eyes welling up with tears that started to fall. It is what I wanted to hear but he's saying because he wants to. Because he feels like it. Because he means it. In all of my life I never knew this would happen. I would fantasize about it but he would always seem to tell me in person when I pictured it. I read the note again hoping that it would sound even more real and fantastic than it had. Before I could actually get to the good part my eyes stopped on the word "dangerous." The note didn't say anything about not being able to text him so I took my phone out of my coat that draped over the chair next to me and fired a text to him.

Don't get hurt. –MH

A text came in a few minutes later.

I won't. –SH

How completely Sherlock of him to say that?

Promise? –MH

This text came in earlier than the last one.

Promise. So I guess you read my note. –SH

I rolled my eyes at him much like he would have and replied.

Yeah. –MH

It seemed as though he was hesitant to text back and just before I was about to put my phone away into my coat a text came in from him.

Did you read all of it? –SH

I shook my head at him and texted him back.

Of course I did. –MH

His response came in a matter of seconds.

What do you have to say about that? –SH

A large smile spread across my face as I sent out the text anxiously waiting for a reply.

That I love you. What do you have to say about that? –MH

The text alert noise rang out seconds later and I looked down at the small screen with hope.

That I love you too. –SH

Sherlock's POV

I smiled and let out a sigh of relief pocketing my phone and straightening out my ridiculous and idiotic fedora. I hate being in disguise. I got up from the bench I was sitting at and grabbed a paper paying for it and sitting back down. The fact that Molly knew I loved her was very much for the better. When she hadn't heard me the first time a feeling of sadness filled up my chest, it tightening and my breath hitched. I was mad at first but it was understandable. She was right to think that I wouldn't say it back. I myself didn't think I would admit it out loud much less out loud (or in a text) to Molly. It was true though. I knew the definition of love but I never knew how it made oneself feel, but I began to notice something. My chest would tighten when I saw her. My breath would hitch and I would find myself taking in gulps of air that I didn't need. I would blush when she complimented me but I willed myself to make the redness that rose on my pale face to go away within an instance. I had to admit. Molly changed me for the better and I liked how it made me feel now.

It was only now that I looked down at the paper seeing the headline in large print.

SUICIDE OF FAKE GENIUS

Do the editors have nothing better to write about? It's been over two months but I could still spot people taking interest in the story on the front page. I wasn't sure if I should be flattered or annoyed. Both I imagine. I set the paper aside knowing that whatever was written would just make me angry. I had just set it aside as I saw a man across the street. John. I wasn't surprised I would find him here even though I wasn't particularly looking for him. We were only a couple of blocks away from Baker Street. He didn't look as good as I had hoped. He even looked more defeated than Molly had described. I felt a pang of guilt travel throughout my chest. I've done this to him. I've made him depressed and lost and abandoned. I stood up unexpectantly. My body, my mind, my heart, wanting to walk over and tell him everything was all right and that I'm still alive. To stop the pain. John made his way across the street his head down barely even checking the street for oncoming vehicles but took a good enough look to see that no cars where coming towards him. I noticed out of the corner of my eye, a car coming fast through a red light not even yielding at the sight of John in the middle of the road. I immediately sprang into action. I don't care if he recognizes me now. Keeping myself a secret is not worth him dying because I couldn't risk it. I quickly looked both ways before I myself ran across the street to John. I put my hand on John's upper arm yanking him away and onto the sidewalk just in time to avoid the vehicle. We both fell to the ground, and John rubbed at a red mark that had already started to show on his head as he sat up. I quickly got on my feet and brushed myself off before holding out a hand to him. John grabbed my hand and I pulled him up. He let go of my hand and put his hand to his head again for a brief moment relieved to find that there was no blood.

While he was busy tending to himself I took a good look at him now that I was up close. He was wearing a jacket but it was just short enough to be able to see his wrists. I was relieved to find that there were no marks of cutting on his wrists. There are multiple places one could cut oneself but a person who was truly depressed and careless enough to almost get killed by a car wouldn't put much thought as to where they would make the incisions. I didn't think that John would have started cutting himself. Maybe just thinking that it was somehow a possibility was selfish of me. Why would someone cut themselves just because I wasn't in their life anymore? I inwardly yelled at myself for even feeling the need to check.

I cleared my head and finally spoke up, "Be more careful next time, mate," I said in my best attempt at a much thicker British accent than my natural one.

He nodded embarrassedly and looked up at me for the first time, looked away, and then look back at me with confusion, "Do I know you?"

"Not that I can remember."

I'm sorry you just look really familiar. You look like…" his voice trailed off and he shook his head, "Nevermind. Thanks. You saved my life."

He held out his hand and I shook it.

"Watch where you're going next time."

He seemed to still be baffled at the sight of me. I was metaphorically crossing my fingers, hoping that he didn't see through my disguise.

"Thanks again."

"Not a problem."

With that I gave him a friendly smile and walked past him going towards the location as to where I intended on meeting a certain someone today. I turned my head back to look at him one last time before I could see him for a while. I have to capture Moran and Thomas or John is just going to be even more careless than he is now. John turned the corner and out of sight, completely forgetting about where he was going to go. I myself turned down an alleyway. Now I know that my disguise is bulletproof. In my mind I believed that I was still taking a safe route through London just to be extra careful but now I knew that it was because it didn't feel right. Walking alone. It felt wrong. I didn't want to be seen without John or Molly by my side. It made me feel nervous but most of all sad. When I was alone I would stick to the alleys and shortcuts much like a shadow. Turning down another backstreet, I spotted my…acquaintance. I walked up to her noticing how her fitted parka and excess of cleavage clearly showed that she wasn't wearing anything under the heavy coat.

"Hello, Mr. Holmes."

"Woman."

BOOM! Mini cliff! I bet some of you perverts out there thought that BOOM said BOOB! Don't be coy you little nasties...haha jk! The idea for John being a dumbass in this chapter was from Dreaming-in-moonlight for being the 75th reviewer! I truly did really love her idea and it was fun to write. I wrote "write" as "right" the first time and I'm suppossed to have good grammerer because I'ma writer!

ANYWAYSPlease review and have lovely time at the review after party. I hear its totes(tots?) magotes(magoats?)...or however you say that...