Sherlock Holmes is Molly Hooper's greatest tragedy. During and after the Fall.

Molly Hooper likes sex. Molly Hooper wants to have sex…like right now. With Sherlock Holmes. She just needs to get him to shut-up. Set after the Fall. Smut and maybe a little bit of plot. Maybe.

Molly isn't fond of lifts. Sherlock tries to fix that.

The arrangement was born when Molly demanded a kiss in exchange for the body part Sherlock needed, and it escalated quickly from there.

[Follow-up to 'Frustration] The last remaining bastion of logic and sensibility in his brain is telling him to reconsider, reminding him that he doesn't 'do' this type of thing (has never actually done this type of thing), but God does he want her (more than he would ever care to admit, even to her) - Molly returns the favour.

Molly can't sleep. He's been in her flat for 559 hours, day in and day out. It's unbelievably frustrating to have him like this in her life, to see him but unable to touch him; to hear him, and yet be unable to caress him; to smell him, and remain unable to taste him. - Molly's got a lot of frustration to work through. Sherlock, being Sherlock, comes up with his own way to help.

Molly Hooper knows that Sherlock is a human, and in one night, she finally finds proof.