Molly woke up with the sun shining through the windows and Sherlock's arms around her. She stretched her arms in front of her, and Sherlock's arms tightened slightly around her.

"You're awake." He said.

Molly smiled. "Yes I am." She turned over to face him and said, "Did you sleep?"

"For a few hours, yes." He said. His eyes were still closed, and Molly pressed her forehead against his.

"You should try to get some more." Molly closed her eyes.

Sherlock shook his head slightly. "I'm fine."

"Sherlock," Molly said, "you can't just go around without much sleep."

"Sure I can."

"No, you can't."

"Molly, I'm fine."

Molly opened her eyes. "Then why haven't you opened your eyes yet?"

"Fair point." Sherlock opened his eyes.

An hour later, Molly had given up on trying to get him to sleep and made both herself and Sherlock some coffee. Sherlock reminded her of how he wanted it, and she responded with "I know, Sherlock."

After giving Sherlock his mug, she sat down on the sofa with him and turned on the telly. They sat in silence while they watched, and Molly eventually put her head on his shoulder.

"Are we switching flats today?" She asked.

"Yes." Sherlock said, his eyes staying focused on the television. "John and Mary have agreed to let you stay in their spare bedroom for a couple of days.

"Sherlock," Molly said. "you do realize that Moran will expect us to either be at your flat, my flat, or John and Mary's, right?"

Sherlock sighed. "Yes, of course I do. It's quite obvious, but until I can figure out a better plan, I am hoping that he won't be able to guess the order in which we move."

Molly signed. "I'm sorry," she said as she turned to face him, "I'm just scared, that's all."

"As expected." Sherlock said.

Molly turned her head to him. "Sherlock?"

"Hm?" He hummed, looking back at her.

Molly thought for a second before asking, "Are you scared?"

"No," he said, "of course not."

There was a moment of silence. Then, Molly said, "Yes, you are."

He cocked his head at her, and she pressed a kiss to his lips. He cupped her face with one hand, and rested the other on the small of her back. She wrapped her arms around his neck as an attempt to get closer to him, and he hugged her tighter.

When Molly pulled away, she said, "And we will make it through this together, okay?"

Sherlock said nothing, just moved a stray piece of hair out of Molly's face. She knew he wouldn't have responded, but she said it anyway. She wanted him to know that she would be there for him in anyway that she could.

And she knew that he understood.

Because she was Molly Hooper, the mousy pathologist who fancied a clever bastard, the man who she thought would never give her the slightest bit of kindness to, because that was he was.

You always say such horrible things. Every time. Always, always.

She let out as sigh as she tried to get rid of the memory of the Christmas party, where Sherlock had successfully embarrassed her in front of her friends.

Sherlock Holmes. The clever detective who said such horrible things; he was the man whom she rested her head on and watched telly with. He was the one who she went to sleep with at night. He was the one who she could see through, his façade was nothing in her eyes. She could see his true feelings, and yet she didn't understand him.

Soon enough, Molly fell asleep on his shoulder.

Sherlock turned his head to Molly as her breathing slowed. She was falling asleep, and Sherlock could tell she wouldn't be asleep for long. Still, at the angle she lay on his shoulder, she would have a stiff neck when she awakes. He place a hand under her head and his other on her shoulder, pushing her off of him gently, careful not to shake her too much. He lay her down on the sofa, the union jack pillow resting under her head. He looked around, and spotted a grey blanket draped over a dining chair against the closest wall. Grabbing it, he unfolded it and lay it across Molly, who stirred slightly in her sleep. Sherlock froze for a minute, and then continued covering her as she stilled again.

He looked down at her, and smiled. Then, he made his way for the bookshelf, grabbing Molly's copy of Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets off of it and sitting down at the floor, his back pressing against the sofa just under Molly's head. Her light breathing was coming, and Sherlock read from the book listening to her breaths. After four chapters, Sherlock heard a yawn, and turned his head to see Molly's eyes open up.

"Sleep well?" Sherlock asked, returning to the book.

Molly closed her eyes again and nodded. "Mhm. How long was a asleep."

"About an hour and a half, more or less," Sherlock turned pages. "I wasn't keeping track of time."

She stretched her arms out, and then lay her arm over Sherlock's right shoulder, her chin resting on his left. "Reading The Chamber of Secrets now, are you?"

He flipped a page. "Obviously."

"Read to me." She sat up got down on the floor next to him, leaning her head against his left shoulder again. He looked over at her smiling face and looked back to the page.

"'Potter,'" Sherlock read, "'you've got yourself a girlfriend!' Drawled Malfoy.'"

"God, I hate Malfoy." Molly said, "but I kind of love him as well."

"He's one of those villains then, is he?"

"I guess so," Molly said, "but I don't really count him as a villain. He's just a bully, and he's only like that because he was raised that way."

"He is right, though." Sherlock said.

"Hm?"

"About Ginny being Harry's girlfriend."

Molly laughed. "What? They aren't dating."

"Do they ever?" Sherlock asked, looking to her.

"Of course not!" Molly said. "That's Ron's younger sister, Harry wouldn't date her!"

Sherlock laughed. "Sure. Look, Molly, it's obvious."

"Shut up!" Molly laughed. "I am trying not to spoil it for you."

"Your terrible lying has already done that."

Molly reached to grab his hand, which was resting on his leg. She looked to him and smiled.

"Read?" Molly asked, Sherlock returned to the book and began reading again

One chapter later, Sherlock's mobile buzzed and he pulled it out.

"Text from John." He said.

Molly looked at the screen. "Are they ready for us to come over?"

"Yes," Sherlock said, sending a quick text back before slipping his phone back into his pocket. "Are you packed?"

"Maybe." Molly said. "How long are we staying?"

"You are staying for three days." Sherlock said.

Molly sat up, turning her head to Sherlock sharply and furrowing her brows. "You aren't staying too?"

"Of course not." Sherlock said. "Well, not for the entire time. I'll stay with you some of the time, but not all of the time."

"Why not?" Molly asked.

"Because I have work to do," he said, "and also because John made it obvious that I was not welcome for the hole of three days."

"Yeah," Molly said. "You would probably annoy the hell out of Mary."

"Why would you assume that?" Sherlock asked.

Molly smiled. "Because she's pregnant and it's just like you to get on someone's nerves."

"Do I get on your nerves?"

Molly kissed him on the cheek. "Of course you do."

John and Mary sat on the sofa after Sherlock and Molly arrived. They had immediately gone into the guest bedroom to read and John and Mary listened in. They could hardly hear them from the sitting room, but they just barely made out what Sherlock read.

"My God," Mary said, smiling. "They are absolutely adorable."

John smiled too. "Yeah. I'm glad Sherlock has finally found someone. I never thought he would."

"I did." Mary said.

"You did?"

Mary nodded. "Of course! I mean, even a 'high-functioning sociopath' has someone out there who is capable of loving him, and even Sherlock could love that person back."

"I guess so." John said. "I'm just surprised. I mean, one of the first things he ever said to me was that he considered himself to be 'married to his work'."

"May I ask why he told you that?" Mary asked.

"I may or may not have asked if he had a boyfriend – just as a conversation starter! – and he may or may not have thought that I was asking him out."

Mary was laughing. "Why did you ask if he had a boyfriend?"

Now, John was laughing. "Because he said that girlfriends aren't really his area!"

"And wrong he was." Mary said.

Sherlock looked down at his watch. "Molly, it's almost 10:00. You should be asleep by now." Sherlock had stayed for dinner, and then continued reading to Molly.

"I guess I should be. I've got work tomorrow." Molly said.

Sherlock looked up from the book and over to Molly. "And I should probably go."

"Do you have to?"

Sherlock nodded. "Unfortunately."

Molly pressed her lips to Sherlock's, and he cupped the back of her head, his other hand finding the small of her back. Molly's arms wrapped around his neck and pulled him closer to her.

When their lips parted, Molly pressed her forehead against Sherlock's. "Goodnight Sherlock."

"Good night, Molly." He pressed his lips to her forehead, and then stood up and left the room.