For personal reasons, posting may slow down for the next little while.
Anyway, thank you all for the continued support. You are all brilliant. Thanks to Murmeltierchen, shercastle, coloradoandcolorado1, Zacha, Henr233e, katdemon18, Mrs Max McDowell, beautyqueen24, AnatasiaBeaverhausen01, celeryy, Nocturnias, Borderline Sociopath, wynnleaf, Clockwork Mockingbird, D-Syfer, Kataraang0, faeryenchanter, Jane009, eccentricpetal, C. LeShay, Lannie, Petra Todd, ElizaSP, Way Worse THan Scottish, Lia Kada, HPluver, Hellscrimsonangel, rory'sfan04 and franythesupernova.
And to the Anonymous who thinks I captured his character perfectly- Didn't I make you jump off a building?
Lex and Pablo continue to be made of awesome and win... And Jam.
Easter Egg Hunt has not been officially won yet. However, there are two competitors who are very close to getting it. It may come down to a game of rock-paper-scissors-lizard-Spock between them.
PART TWENTY-SIX
Molly understood that after spending the day with her family, Sherlock needed time to himself to delve into his mind, into the scant number of cases he had.
She did not feel slighted at all by it. She had received more attention than she had expected that evening from Sherlock in the garden.
They had stayed in silence for almost half an hour, just holding one another. Occasionally, one of them pressed a small kiss to the other's skin, but it never went any farther than that. They just enjoyed the silence, being in each other's presence.
Her heart fluttered at the memory. Sherlock could be quite cruel in his want to be alone, demanding people leave him. But in that moment when he needed time to himself, he needed it with Molly. She could feel it. He could be alone when he was with her.
In the past, that idea would have made her frown. It would have meant she did not matter. Now, it was completely different. She fit in a special place in his mind.
Leaving Sherlock alone in his bedroom, Molly decided to take a walk around the house. She wasn't tired yet. Eventually, she would crawl into bed. No doubt, even while he was working on his cases, Sherlock would lie against her. She'd grown used to that, doing her best to shut out the sounds of his mumbling and the glow of his mobile as she drifted off.
As she walked through the corridors, she came across Gavin, who was cradling his son in his arms, walking him back and forth.
"Hey," Molly whispered, a smile on her face.
Gavin frowned, looking at what Molly was wearing. "That's his dressing gown, isn't it?"
"Oh." Molly touched the silk of the blue dressing gown that she seemed to end up in with great regularity. "Mine was really ratty and it seems to have disappeared in the move." She looked to Lawrence. "Everything all right?"
Gavin nodded. "Yeah. Larry here is just having some trouble getting to sleep. Isn't that right, buddy?"
Molly placed a hand on the toddler's head, giving it a gentle stroke. "Come on, Larry. You've got to let your Daddy get some sleep."
"Actually." Gavin looked over his younger sister. "This might not be a bad thing. Give us some time to talk."
Gavin and Molly were only a year apart, as opposed to Molly and her other brothers. They had been closer growing up. This made Gavin even more protective of Molly- and often more annoying.
Molly leaned against the wall, letting out a small sigh. "What about?" She didn't know why she bothered asking. She knew exactly what is was about."
"What are you doing with this guy?" Gavin asked.
Molly crossed her arms over her chest and wrinkled her nose. "I thought we had a rule that we never talked about what I did with a guy."
"WOBS!" Gavin hissed softly, trying to show displeasure while also not disrupting his son. "Not what I was referring to. I mean, really... Sherlock Holmes?"
"He's brilliant, Gav," Molly stressed. "He really is."
Gavin rolled his eyes. "Yeah, brilliant at being a git and ignoring you for years."
Molly slumped down slightly. She knew her brothers weren't going to like Sherlock on principle, but it certainly went deeper than that. "He's not ignoring me now. That's the important part. Like he said, he doesn't make a good first impression." She sighed. "It's just his first impressions last a very long time."
"Molly," Gavin's voice was very serious. "He's not good for you."
"Please don't say that," Molly begged. "There so much you just don't know about him. He..." Molly bit her lip. "He protects me. And... He makes me laugh. He likes to make me laugh. He shares things with me he doesn't tell anyone else, not even John."
Gavin pressed his lips tightly together, cocking his head to look over Molly even as he continued to rock his son. "Where do you think this is going to go, Molly? Do you think Sherlock Holmes is going to marry you?"
"What does it matter if he does?" Molly asked desperately. "You and Rosie aren't married and you're perfectly happy! Who says I even want to be married? I just want to be with someone who loves me!"
"Has he said he loves you?" Gavin asked.
Molly shut her mouth tightly. He hadn't said that yet. She didn't know if he would ever be able to say it. He'd alluded to it and she felt he showed her he did. But he could never simply get the words out. "I know he does."
"That's not what I asked," Gavin retorted.
"You don't know Sherlock, Gav. You know what the papers say about him," Molly insisted. "That's not what he's like. I've known him for three years. I know what I mean to him. That's enough."
Gavin stayed quiet for a long time, just eyeing Molly silently. "You know Dad wouldn't approve of him."
"Dad didn't approve of anyone for me," Molly replied. She shook her head. "You know, between him and you three, I didn't have a single date until I went to medical school."
Gavin sighed. "Fine. Putting aside the fact I think he's a git who doesn't deserve you. What about your safety, Molly? Sure, Moriarty is gone... But what about the next one? And the one after that? From everything the papers say he's never going to stop being a Consulting Detective."
"I don't want him to stop," Molly replied. "I fell in love with a Consulting Detective. Yes, it's dangerous and I worry about him, but it's a part of what he is!"
"It's nearly gotten you killed already," Gavin stressed. "Nearly got John Watson killed too. The people around him aren't safe and you're as close around him as anyone can be."
"I don't care." Molly pushed away from the wall finally. "I love Sherlock. I can't imagine not being with him, Gav. Even if there are terrible people out there after him... For me, it's worth it, because we're together."
Gavin nodded slowly. "Well, I guess that's that, then, isn't it?"
Molly nodded. "Yeah. I guess it is."
Both brother and sister turned in opposite directions, striding towards their respective rooms.
The door across from hers and Sherlock's opened and John stuck his head out. He gave Molly a small, bashful smile. "Sorry. I thought I heard talking. Is everything okay?"
Molly frowned slightly. "Yeah. Just... Sibling stuff. I'm sure you know how it is."
John nodded in sympathy. "Yeah. Definitely. Tomorrow I'm heading out to see Harry." He stepped out of the way for Molly to step into his bedroom. "Come on in for a minute."
Molly frowned slightly. "If you're asking me in, clearly you heard more than just 'people talking'."
John sighed. "Yeah. I suppose I did." He nodded his head towards the door Sherlock was behind. "Bet he did too. Want to sort out your thoughts a bit before you're grilled?
" Molly stepped into John's room and he shut the door behind them. Molly sat down on the edge of John's bed and let out a great sigh.
"You're going to hear it a lot, you know," John commented, keeping his back to Molly. "I always used to get it. People not understanding him. Thinking you're putting yourself in danger."
"I know that," Molly rested her chin in her hands. "It's just... They don't understand, do they? I know he's not normal. I don't want him to be normal. I want him to... Be Sherlock."
"It's your relationship," John said with a small shrug. "It's not really anyone's business why you want to be with him. Just keep on reminding yourself that, Molly."
Molly nodded and gave John a small smile.
John remained quiet for a long time, looking over Molly. "Has he told you that he loves you?"
Molly looked down, gripping the fabric of her dressing down in her slim fingers. "Well... Not in so many words. He's... Implied it. But you know him, John. I don't expect it from him."
John sat down next to her, putting an arm around her shoulders. "But you want to hear it, don't you, Molly?"
Molly bit her lower lip. "Doesn't everyone?"
John leaned in slightly. "I know it's not the same... But I know he does. Seen him with you now and... I never thought I'd see Sherlock ever like this with anyone."
"Everything in its own time, I guess," Molly whispered pitifully. "I mean, maybe... Someday."
She gave John and overly cheerful smile. "I should get to bed. Night John."
John got to his feet. "Molly, you know if you ever need to talk about anything."
"I know, John." Molly smiled. She then crossed the few steps between them and gave him a peck on the cheek. "You're a good friend. To both of us."
John looked away, his expression slightly bashful. "Well, I try. Lord knows he doesn't make it easy."
"Night John."
With that, Molly left the John's bedroom, returning to the one she was sharing with Sherlock.
He sat on the edge of the bed, eyes riveted to his phone. He didn't even look up when she entered.
"I left my crime scene photos in the suitcase," Sherlock said absent-mindedly, gesturing wildly towards the corner. "Could you get them out for me, Molly?"
Molly rolled her eyes and went to Sherlock's suitcase, opening it up. "All right. But after this, I'm heading to bed. I actually require sleep." She rooted through his things. "Only you would bring crime scene photos to meet my fa-"
Suddenly, there were hands on her waist and she was turned around. Sherlock looked down at her, his head cocked to the side curiously. His light blue gaze was filled with question.
His lips were parted slightly, as if there were a query on the tip of his tongue that he just couldn't get out. It was so very much unlike Sherlock to not be able to say whatever was on his mind.
His expression changed, conflict passing over his features. Sherlock could read everyone, but he tried to keep his own feelings and thoughts hidden behind a cool mask. Yet Molly could read him. He would let her read him.
She knew what question was on the tip of his tongue. Knew he had overheard her conversations- no, not overheard. Eavesdropped. Part of her wanted to be angry about that, but she couldn't bring herself to. Not when she could tell the other thing he wanted to say.
He brushed his lips against hers in the most tender of gestures. His hands sifted through her hair, loose over her shoulders.
He guided her back towards the bed and laid her down before gentle hands removed her dressing gown and the t-shirt she wore underneath. Hands and mouth trailed over her with the utmost care, as if he were mapping out her body and committing it to his impressive memory.
She was surprised when he didn't undress himself. When he didn't take it any further than soft caresses and kisses over every centimetre of her body.
When he finally finished his exploration, he sat back on his heels and looked down at Molly. His normally cold eyes were widened, his eyebrows raised in question. He swallowed hard, but still did not speak. Molly was sure he was still unable to find words for what he had just done.
She wasn't looking at the great Consulting Detective in that moment. This was Sherlock Holmes- the man- stripped as bare as he had ever been. She'd seen glimpses of him, never more prevalent than when he'd admitted his vulnerability over John's absence. Just a flicker had been present when he'd held her in the garden. That flicker had become a blaze now, no doubt spurred from his eavesdropping.
"What do you need?" Molly whispered, recalling their conversation so many months ago. She brought a hand up to touch his cheek.
"You," Sherlock replied, his voice rough with emotion as he leaned into her hand. He covered her hand with his. "Is that enough?"
Molly let out a small sigh. "Sherlock, I didn't ask for..."
"Is that enough?" Sherlock repeated.
What had happened to Sherlock to make him so unable to express his emotions? To make him want to hide them under layers of logic, reasoning and bitter words?
Molly wrapped her arms around Sherlock and drew him close to her. He let out a sigh against her and shifted their positions, arranging them so Molly's back was pressed to his front. She felt him nuzzle her neck as he wrapped his arms around her. It was if he didn't want her to see his face as he held her.
Molly closed her eyes tightly as she was enveloped in his warmth. "Sherlock?" Molly breathed softly.
Sherlock just shifted closer, acknowledging her with his embrace.
"I love you," she whispered, placing her hand over his.
There was no response, not verbally. She hadn't expected one.
But when Sherlock entwined their fingers, she knew- at least for now- it was enough for her.