Well, I took my sweet time with this update, didn't I? I'm so sorry about that. I had something very specific in mind for this chapter and it took me a while to get there. Good news! The final chapter is written, I just have to finish my edits and send it to my beta. Thank you all for sticking it out with this story. I have the next story of this little AU all planned out and I'm ready to start writing!

This chapter contains smut... a lot of smut but also quite a bit of plot. You've been warned. : )

I owe a HUGE thank you to MizJoely for being an amazing beta and wonderful friend. Also thanks go to MrsMcrieff who answers my Brit questions without judgement or accusing me of being an ignorant American (to my face... LOL.) If you find any mistakes though, they're all mine!

I own nothing here except my little Advantis world, I suppose! (I giggle every time I type that!) Please enjoy! ~Lil~

Molly was released two days later, though she complained about her stay almost the entire time. She seemed to be suffering no ill effects from her experience with Mycroft or the coma, but both Sherlock and Mycroft insisted she stay and let the doctors keep an eye on her. In the end they could find no reason to keep her any longer. She knew this, of course, but the brothers were being overly cautious. Not that she didn't appreciate it, she just didn't want to be in the secret medical facility any longer than necessary.

Mycroft had assured her that her abilities – though he frequently referred to them as gifts – would be kept secret, but she still felt uneasy about it all. She trusted the man, she did, but she didn't trust the people he worked for. The only thing that would ease her nerves would be to get back to her normal life. Back to autopsies and her lab. Back to her cat and her books. Back to Sherlock's bed and...

It would have been excruciating had it not been for Henry. Just as promised, Mycroft brought his newborn son in to meet his Aunt Molly two hours after she had woken up. The moment William Henry Xavier Holmes was placed in her arms, she was smitten. Molly had held babies before, but she had never had such a visceral reaction to a child before in her life. Her first thought was that it was her new ability, but she quickly dismissed it. She wasn't attempting to read anything from the darling boy, she was simply observing him. Mycroft was right; he was perfect. Ten perfect fingers, ten perfect toes. His eyes were still an intense shade of blue, which they would most likely stay. His head was covered in a beautiful patch of straight, black hair. Perfect.

Molly fed him while his Papa, Mycroft had informed her that he was to be called, chatted (and argued) with Uncle Sherlock. She was mesmerized. He was a wonderful little thing. A proper British gentlemen, even as a newborn. She suddenly pictured him in a tiny three piece suit and burst out laughing, causing the brothers to look up. She apologized and asked if Sherlock was ready for his turn.

If she thought that holding Henry had sent her maternal instincts into over drive, the sight of her gorgeous man with that tiny little fussing bundle in his arms just about caused her ovaries to expel themselves out of her body and across the room. She made this sort of whimper and once again both men looked up at her. Once again she apologized then excused herself to the en suite.

That's when she realised she needed to get a hold of herself. The events of the last week had been intense, even if she had been comatose for most of them. Her mind had a lot to adjust to and she needed give herself time.

When she reentered her room Mycroft was gathering Henry up to leave since it was his nap time. She got to visit with her father's namesake twice more before she was finally released, falling in love a little more each time. Now she was finally going home. Home? For the first time it occurred to her that she had been staying with Sherlock out of necessity and that she could actually return to her tiny flat.

They were in the back of a luxurious government car when she realised they weren't on their way to the dodgy part of Camden, but rather nearly to Baker Street.

"Sherlock, are we picking up Toby first?" she asked.

He just smiled and kissed her forehead.

Molly rolled her eyes. While in the facility, they had talked openly and frankly about her ability and what it meant in their relationship. She had promised not to attempt to read Sherlock unless it was an emergency – loss of consciousness, hostage situations, or an evening at the theater with his parents had made the cut – this was decidedly not one of those moments. She considered that it was possible he was trying to surprise her, perhaps a party (though that didn't seem like a very 'Sherlock' thing to do.) Or maybe he was just being his normal presumptuous self, assuming she'd want to stay at Baker Street for the night. She put her head on his shoulder and enjoyed the ride.

As they made their way up the seventeen stairs of 221B Baker Street, it dawned on her that she felt like she was coming home. The few short weeks she had spent in Sherlock's flat she had come to feel a sort of kinship with the odd disorganization of its strange layout and utter lack of pretense. She loved the bullet holes in the walls. She love the fact that science equipment could be found in literally every room. She love the mismatched furniture... furniture they had debauched in many, many different ways, but not as many as they could. Her mind was wandering and her cheeks were heating up. As Sherlock opened the door to the flat she was relieved to find it devoid of family and friends, because suddenly...

Molly threw her bag, well... somewhere, and turned, simultaneously pushing Sherlock up against the closed door. He let out a muffled oomph, as she pulled his head down and attacked his mouth. Sherlock responded with equal desperation; both the potted plant from the Watsons and Molly's overnight bag went flying as he dropped them to fall where they would as his hands attached themselves to her ass. He lifted her up that she could wrap her legs around his back, both her shoes dropping on the floor behind him. She was aware that she'd gone from zero to sixty in about eight seconds, but she simply didn't care. She had almost died and she wanted to make love to this man... NOW!

o0o

"Are you feeling..." he started to ask, pulling his mouth away for only a moment before reattaching it to her neck.

"I'm fine, more than fine actually. I need you Sherlock. Please, it's been so long." Molly tugged at his hair to bring his lips once again in line with hers and drove her tongue into his mouth.

Sherlock growled as he tried to take control of the kiss and blindly steer them towards the settee, bumping into the coffee table in the process. He was already half hard and they'd only been kissing for 37 seconds. Molly was an absolute delight when it came to sex, but this was completely different. She was on fire, and incidentally so was he. He managed to maneuver them safely to the settee and finally pry her hands off of his neck. She lay almost perfectly still for a few seconds as he shucked his suit jacket. He paused for a moment; looking at her, he thought could almost see an idea forming in her mind. He dismissed it and started unbuttoning his shirt when suddenly Molly jumped up and planted her knees on the cushions.

"Let me help, it'll be faster," she said as her nimble fingers joined his in removing his dress shirt. Her eyes were dark with lust as she concentrated on the buttons.

Sherlock tried to take a deep breath and calm himself as he watched Molly look at his chest as if she had intended to devour him. Seconds later he realized how correct his deduction had been as Molly slowly (her first slow movements since kissing him) raked her hands down his chest, stopping to graze his nipples with her thumbs. Then she lowered her head and started kissing and licking, biting and sucking every inch of exposed skin she could find. Sherlock buried his hands in Molly's hair to anchor himself as she worked his flesh, turning him into a stammering mess. When he felt her hands on the front of his trousers, cupping his erection, he groaned and bucked forward. Molly suddenly moved so that she was seated and started undoing the fastenings beneath her tiny hands.

"God Sherlock, I always want you, always. But right now, I need you... In. My. Mouth." By the time the devil woman was finished with her declaration she had him out and was stroking his now rock-hard member, looking up at him through her eyelashes with a dangerous grin on her face.

"Fuuuck," Sherlock whispered, watching as Molly wrapped her lips around his cock and sucked it into her mouth. Where this new-found aggressiveness had come from he had no idea, but he wasn't about to question it. Molly was certainly not meek or subdued in the bedroom, but this- this was a different thing entirely. She had one hand tightly holding onto his arse cheek and the other gently tugging on his bollocks as her sweet mouth sucked his cock. "Molly," he sighed her name as he tugged on her hair, trying to alert her to the inevitable outcome, should she continue. She simply hummed, causing him to buck forward into her lovely mouth. She seemed undaunted. After a few more moments of this beautiful torture, she pulled away, stroking him with her small but capable hand, the other never stopping its work below on his balls.

"We haven't, I know, but I want you to," she said, then she licked the tip of his penis while smiling sweetly.

The unspoken implication, of course, only caused Sherlock's blood to boil. He closed his eyes and let his head fall backwards as Molly took him in her mouth once again, this time concentrating on the head, doing something sinful with her tongue, while fitting her hand around his shaft. She expertly twisted her hand one way as she rotated her head the opposite direction. The effect was so mindbogglingly pleasant, he was sure his eyes would never return to their proper place in their sockets. But they did. Because after a few moments of that little trick, he felt Molly's hand let go and suddenly he was being taken down her throat in a manner he would have not thought possible. He looked down to see her eyes closed tight in concentration and he was lost... he grunted then moaned something akin to her name and a proclamation to a god he didn't believe in, as he poured his seed down her throat.

o0o

Okay so she had cheated. And the worst part was she didn't even feel bad about it. She tried to rationalize it by telling herself it was for his pleasure and nothing more. But God did it feel good. She knew she would not be able to concentrate on reading him while they were actually making love- too much information, too many emotions and frankly she was usually too concerned with her own enjoyment to fully concentrate on his emotions or now thoughts, as it were. But oh, wasn't that lovely. Reading him as he had come in her mouth was like experiencing it with him, and it was completely different than an actual orgasm. The explosion of pleasure and joy and adoration, it was very nearly painful. It was like nothing she had ever experienced in her life. Molly didn't exactly feel sated or fulfilled, more like... heightened and exhilarated.

She leaned back as Sherlock sat down next to her. He looked completely shagged out and exhausted. "God Molly. If I were a different man, I'd ask you where you learned to do that. But I'm not, so I won't. I'll just be thankful that you did. Seriously, don't ever tell me," he said, his voice even more husky than normal.

She looked over his gorgeous, near naked form, and smiled. "Um, love. Your trousers and pants are still bunched around your ankles. Ah, you're still wearing your shoes." She giggled.

He opened his eyes glancing down at his clothes then over to her. "Yes, well I see a much bigger problem here."

"Oh, and what is that?" she asked knowing full well what he was talking about.

"You're still fully dressed Molly Hooper. Now, why is that?" he asked as he pulled off one of his shoes and then the other.

"I was focused on you, Mr. Holmes, in case you didn't notice."

"Oh," he said with a deep chuckle as he kicked off the rest of his clothes. "I noticed. I also noticed that you've never done that before."

Molly knew she was caught, but she wasn't giving up without a fight. "Of course I have."

Sherlock gave her his don't give me that shit, Molly look. "You know exactly what I'm talking about. If you wanted a chance to read me during intercourse, you could have simply asked. You didn't have to trick me."

Molly wanted to feel affronted, though she was also a bit embarrassed. "It wasn't a trick, Sherlock. More... a sudden inspiration. I- I can't do it while I'm... if you're..."

"It makes perfect sense. You can't read me while I'm fucking you."

Molly huffed. "Crude."

"But accurate."

"Where's Toby?" she asked using her beloved pet as an opportunity to change the subject since she had just immediately broken their agreement about using her gifts unnecessarily.

Sherlock reached over and started unbuttoning her blouse. "Mrs. Hudson's."

"And where is Mrs. Hudson? I would have assumed she'd have been up here fussing about, pouring tea down my throat."

Sherlock smirked and Molly didn't need to read his mind to know that he was thinking something very naughty at that very moment. "Don't be crass," she said as she helped him remove her bra.

"I was simply going to say that I sent our dear landlady a text explaining that you would be needing your rest."

Molly couldn't care less about landladies or cats after that because Sherlock descended upon her, pushing her into a reclining position and trapping her underneath him as he kissed her breathless. That glorious tongue of his instantly refueled the fire that their short conversation had barely dampened. "Again? Are you ready?" she asked between kisses.

"Hmmm, I will be by the time I'm finished," he said with a smirk, moving his head to suck and bite behind her ear and down her neck. "I love the way you smell, Molly, right here. And I love the way you taste." He took her flesh between his teeth and worked it, hard.

He could be such a caveman. She'd never worn a neck scarf in her life before she'd started dating Sherlock Holmes; now it was a necessity. And she loved it. He was right, of course, when he had deduced that she liked things a bit rough at times. He could read her like a book though and never took things too far.

Molly was gasping, clawing at his bare back. She thrust up, still wearing her trousers, yet hoping for some relief. She'd been worked up since they'd walked through the door, she needed release. "Please Sherlock."

"I do believe if I touched your nethers right now Molly, you'd go off like a bomb," he whispered in her ear.

Molly giggled then moaned as he moved his mouth down to her already hardened nipple, taking the other in hand as he suckled and nipped it with his teeth. He switched sides but not before grazing the underside with his tongue, lavishing that breast with just as much attention. So precise, she thought.

It wasn't always like this. Sometimes it was quick and rough, which Molly loved. But she could tell that Sherlock's intentions were to take his time with her, and she loved that too. She didn't even think it was a need to recover, since... yep, she could feel his half hard member pressing against her hip. He didn't need to take his time, but he was going to.

He moved to kneel on the floor as he started slowly undoing her trousers. "Molly, I want you to try to read me." He looked up at her, conveying with his thoughts that she could trust him and he knew she could do this. "Concentrate on my thoughts while I do this. I think it will not only heighten the experience, but also prolong your pleasure." He had removed her trousers by this point and was gently rubbing her through her pants.

"Oh God," she said. "I- I don't know, Sh-Sherlock."

He moved back up her body palming her breasts in both hands. "Trust me Molly May. You can do this, and it will be magnificent." He kissed her as he pinched both nipples at once. Releasing her mouth he worked his way back down her body, placing open mouth kisses on her perfect, unblemished skin. He wanted nothing more than to drive his lovely girl completely mad with desire before finally taking what he wanted, what they both needed. He knew she had experienced his orgasm with him just moments before; now he wanted her to experience what it was like for him to give her pleasure.

He hooked his thumbs under her knickers and tugged them down, throwing them behind them. "Listen to my thoughts Molly," he said as he spread her, placing one foot on the floor and bending her other leg just enough to put her at his mercy. He gently rubbed his thumb over her clit. "Are you doing it?"

Molly nodded.

He raised an eyebrow. "Share with the class," he said in a mocking voice.

"You bastard."

"Tell me what I'm thinking," he said as his thumb moved in small circles.

Molly closed her eyes, he could tell she was concentrating. "Ahh, you love... ahhh, oh God you love my pussy. You love how, mmm, wet I am. You, want to... oh God, Sherlock, I don't think I can come that many times."

He chuckled. "We'll see about that, keep going."

Molly laughed. "Oh, you are so fucking dirty!"

"You're one to talk, Miss Hooper!" he said just before lowering his head and drawing his tongue from her arsehole to her clit. Molly squealed and bucked. "I didn't say you could stop."

"Sherlock, it's too much. I can't!" She was gripping the back of the settee with one hand and the other was flung up over her head.

"Just concentrate on my thoughts Molly, I'll try to keep them reined in." Try, he thought.

Molly was quiet for a moment as Sherlock started gently licking her labia minora, teasing her, trying to let her get used to reading him as she enjoyed herself. "Um, you are thinking about how I taste. You... love it. Really?"

"Of course I do Molly, don't be obtuse."

"I just thought that was something men... said, but didn't actually mean. Okay, um, oh my you... really love it. Oh, Sherlock." Then she giggled. "I don't think drinking straws should be applied to oral sex!"

He raised up. "If only, continue."

She looked down. "You continue."

He put his hands under her bum and angled her up then dipped his tongue into her opening. He heard her moan above him.

"Ohhh, you... you love fucking me with your tongue. I love it to, by the way."

"Mmmm," he hummed, his mouth too busy to respond.

"Please let me come, Sherlock, please!" she begged.

He almost gave in, but he did love hearing her beg. Hearing her plead for release made his cock hard and his chest swell with pride. He made her wet and needy, he made her moan and beg for more. She was his and he would see how far he could push her before...

"Oh your mind is fucking filthy... and I fucking love it! Yes, I'm yours!" Molly practically screamed, pulling him from his thoughts and back to his task. "Touch me, please!"

Sherlock lowered his head once more and sucked her clit into his mouth while pushing two fingers into her soaking channel. Molly wailed and bucked but he held her down with his other hand.

"Oh, I'm gonna..." she started then stopped when Sherlock released the bundle of nerves and moved lower. He started licking puckered hole, never removing his fingers, but careful to avoid the spot inside her that would send her over the edge. "Oh, you're a bad man... God that feels good."

Sherlock looked up again. "My thoughts Molly!" he demanded as he withdrew his fingers.

"Oh no, I... I..."

Sherlock let his mind wander free as he let her see what he loved most about his True One. Her small but firm breasts. Her velvety smooth skin. Her silky hair and the way it slipped through his fingers. The way her lips fit perfectly in his. The sounds she made when he touched her and licked her. The way her cunt felt when it shuddered around his cock. The way they fit together like two pieces of a puzzle that was always meant to be. He watched as she read his mind and her eyes went wide with the realisation of how utterly perfect he thought she was. It looked as if all the breath had been knocked out of her for a moment as they just stared at each other.

Sherlock slowly lowered his head one more time. He licked her entire sex before concentrating on her clit, he told her with his mind to just let go, my love, just let go. And so she did. And for just a moment he felt... something. Later, when he was dissecting and storing the experience in his mind palace he realised that somehow, he had felt... her- what she was experiencing. It was brief, it was fleeting but it happened and it nearly took his breath away. He was rewarded with a new gush of fluids and Molly's hands gripping his hair tightly as she called out to him over and over. She thanked him and praised him and told him she loved him as she slowly came back to earth.

Sherlock stood up and bent down, clearly intent on scooping her up into his arms, but Molly was having none of it. What she had just experienced had been lovely- no, mind-blowing- but she needed more. She shook her head. "Here, now, I can't wait."

"The bedroom's just a short walk, Molly. Surely..."

"No!" She pulled him down on top of her. He managed to brace himself on the back of the settee and the armrest with his knees between her legs. "Please!" she begged as reached between her legs coating her hand with her own juices then wrapping it around his prick, stroking it while looking at him wide eyed and panting.

Sherlock stared down at the woman below him; she was absolutely stunning like this. And she was doing such lovely things to his cock. He didn't hesitate a moment longer; he batted her hand away and lined himself up and slid into her, causing them both moan in unison. Oh God, this feels different, he thought. And then he couldn't think anymore because Molly was digging her nails into his arse cheeks, thrusting upwards, begging for more.

Molly couldn't believe how amazing Sherlock's cock felt. He always made her feel full and oh so good, but this was different, for some reason. She couldn't put her finger on it, but she wanted more. So she told him. Every pump, drove Molly closer to the edge and she felt her orgasm starting to build. Her eyes were closed tightly so she wasn't expecting Sherlock's teeth to suddenly bit down on her nipple causing her to orgasm immediately and so hard she felt like she was coming apart. She was so taken aback by the intensity of it she barely made a sound.

"Ahhhh, fuuuck Molly!" Sherlock more moaned than spoke actual words as he came, hands fisted in Molly's hair. Her walls were practically vibrating around him in aftershocks as he came harder and longer than he could ever remember having done before.

He collapsed on top of her, her hands now lightly resting on his bum. "That, was... very... different," he said taking a breath in between each word.

"Mmhmm," Molly hummed in response. A satisfied smile played on her lips.

"Yoo-Hoo!" They heard the distant call of the intrusive Baker Street Landlady.

"I knew she couldn't stay away," Sherlock said as Molly stood up and scampered off to the bathroom on legs made of jelly.

Alright folks, one more to go. It would be a HUGE help to me if you would let me know what you think about this chapter. Theories? Comments? I love hearing from each and every one of you! Come and visit me on tumblr, same name. Thanks for reading. ~Lil~