A/N: For the June 6th prompt - "You are standing on one side of a closed door." Rated T. Immediately follows One Step Too Far.

Stupid, stupid, stupid. Of course she would get mad at that. Thank God she'd never actually do what she threatened. Sherlock berated himself all the way to the Chinese restaurant Ford had told him Molly liked then again all the way back.

Night had fallen by the time he walked into the house. He found Molly on the sofa in the sitting room, mindlessly watching Glee.

"Molly?" he asked gently. "I got your favorites. Do you want to eat in here?"

She wordlessly turned off the telly then got up and followed him into the kitchen. The opened containers were waiting for them on the peninsula. Molly sat down and started eating, not looking at him. Sherlock sat across from her, watching her worriedly as his own food grew cold.

She was halfway through her sweet-and-sour shrimp before she spoke. "Ford told you my favorite Chinese food?" She still didn't look at him.

"He told me everything he knew about you," Sherlock said gently. "Well, not so much told as wrote." He pulled a memory stick out of his pocket. "He made documents about everything he thought I should know."

Molly finally looked up at that. "The day of his doctor's appointment, he stayed up late writing something. He said it was something for work."

"It was this, everything I need to know in order to be Ford Holmes."

She eyed the memory stick warily. "There's stuff in there about me, isn't there?"

Sherlock nodded. "Your likes and dislikes, the timeline of your and Ford's relationship, all the things he thought I should know about you."

"I want to see it."

"No, Molly," he said gently. "This is you as Ford saw you. You might not agree with it."

She raised her eyes to his, scowling. "He wrote about our sex life, didn't he?"

Do I tell her the truth and watch her temper flare again or do I lie and spare her the embarrassment?

She rolled her eyes. "Your silence is all the confirmation I need. Did you read that part?"

He couldn't help blushing. "Yes, but I felt it was necessary."

"Yes, well, you won't get to find out first-hand," she muttered, going back to her food.

Sherlock finally remembered his food and started eating. "You're not angry?"

"Oh, I'm incredibly angry, but more at Ford right now than you." She sighed quietly. "Why did he have to include that? What happens … happened in our bed was our business, no one else's."

"He wanted me to know how to pleasure you," he said gently. "He didn't want you to be unsatisfied."

"I can satisfy myself, thank you very much," Molly muttered. "I'm not inviting you into my bed just because you're filling in for my husband. You can sleep in the guestroom."

"Molly…"

"No, Sherlock," she said firmly. "There are boundaries to this relationship and that's one of them."

"Alright…"

They ate in silence for several minutes. Finally, Molly got up and threw her empty cartons into the bin.

"I'm going to bed," she declared.

Sherlock glanced at the clock. "It's barely eight. Only small children go to bed at this hour."

"I just lost my husband, I think I'm entitled to an early night." She sighed. "I'll put fresh sheets on the bed in the guestroom."

"I can take care of that," he insisted.

She nodded then left the room without saying goodnight.

Hours later, Sherlock lay on the guestroom bed, unable to sleep. He could hear Molly sobbing in the next room and he desperately wanted to go to her. She needs me right now, even if she won't admit it. Finally, he got up and left the guestroom. He hesitated a moment before lightly knocking on her bedroom door. Her sobs were even louder now.

When she didn't respond, he tried the knob. It was unlocked so he slowly opened the door. Molly was curled in a fetal position in the middle of the bed, sobbing into a pillow he guessed was Ford's. Swallowing hard, he cautiously approached the bed.

"Molly?" he asked softly.

She didn't respond. After a moment, he crawled into bed behind her then lightly stroked her hair. Molly froze so Sherlock did too.

"Let me hold you, Molly," he murmured. "Let me comfort you."

She didn't move for several minutes then she finally straightened. Sherlock wrapped his arms around her from behind, holding her close.

"Don't … don't leave," she whispered, "not tonight."

"I'll stay as long as you need me to," he murmured.