Say something

by Nufdar16

Set a few months after TFP. It is time for Molly to return to London after working in Baltimore for three months. Who is the man who spies on Molly when she arrives at the airport? And who is the man holding her in his arms? Some things have changed since Sherrinford.

1. Chapter 1

Forgive all mistakes, English is not my first language.

Disclaimer: I don't own Sherlock or any of the characters. They belong to ACD, MG and SM and the BBC. No one pays me to write this, just a fan so this fanfiction is not written for profit and no infringement of copyright is intended.

Say something

Chapter 1

"Ladies and gentlemen, this is the commander speaking. We inform you we are arriving at London Heathrow Airport", the sparkling voice of the pilot was preceded by the sound of the well-known bell for announcements.

"Please fasten your seat belts, check the table in front of you is closed and your seat is in an upright position. The expected temperature upon arrival is 12 degrees, a nice sunny day", she adjusted her seat looking at the man in the seat next to hers.

He smiled at her leaning his head back, "Did you hear? Sunny day…nice way to come back after three months" he said while the commander kept speaking "Please remain seated with your seat belts fastened until the aircraft has come to a stop. In thanking you for choosing British Airways, we wish you a pleasant stay in London".

Molly returned the smile looking him straight in the blue eyes, took a quick glance at the screen of her phone where the last received text and her answer stood out, "Any problems?" he asked and she showed him the screen where he read "I WILL COME TO GET YOU AT THE AIRPORT. I CAN WORK BY PHONE", and her reply "YOU DON'T NEED TO COME. YOU BETTER GO DO YOUR WORK YOURSELF. SEE YOU TONIGHT AS PLANNED IN MY FLAT. CAN'T WAIT TO SEE ROSIE AGAIN".

"What a stubborn man!" he mumbled adjusting his belt, she glanced at him sideways "Yes, yes…I know, I am too!", Molly giggled quickly typing another text before putting the device in airplane mode "I NEED TO CATCH UP ON JETLAG…I'LL SLEEP ALL DAY".

Molly grabbed her suitcase from the conveyor belt and put it on the ground, waited for her travel companion's trolley to arrive and then walked towards him who was talking to a woman in uniform, who smiled as she handed him a suitcase, small and square, whose closure was secured by seals.

She slid her handbag over her shoulder, tied the square suitcase to her trolley and preceded the tall man, wrapped in his black coat, towards the sliding doors, "Molly" she heard him calling her back and turned. She saw a grimace pursuing his lips so she took a few steps back and put her arm around his slim waist. He put his left arm around her shoulders and smiled at her whispering something in her ear. Molly looked up at him and blushed slightly.

That was how he saw them. Hugging each other and smiling at each other. He hid himself better in the moving crowd of international arrivals. Looking speechless at his friend hugging him…him! He couldn't believe it! It was impossible! Not the two of them…yet the reality was there before his eyes, undeniable in their embrace.

That explains why Molly had insisted that he not go to pick up her at the airport! And he had complied with her request, then at last minute he thought he'd surprise her. But it was the other way around, it was he who was surprised.

Yet he couldn't figure out when this…how was he to define it...relationship?, had started between the two of them. She had left for United States three months earlier for an exchange with the John Hopkins' Pathology Department in Baltimore, and he… He, come to think of it, had been out of London several times in the past three months.

He had never mentioned Baltimore, though…at least it seemed to him, because he had to admit that he had never listened carefully when he told him that he was going abroad to solve some work.

He told himself it was best to go back to work and maybe talk to her that evening at her flat when everyone would gather to welcome her back. Instead an unknown force drove him to follow them. He was very careful that the two of them didn't notice him, and was lucky to find a cab right after them.

A thousand thoughts continued to haunt him along the way as he tried to recall conversations, texts or facial expressions that revealed evidence of what escaped him. To his surprise the cab stopped in front of the man's house, and they both got out. He waited for them to enter to get out of his cab and find a spot where he could observe without being seen by them.

He had to wait about half an hour before he saw him pull the curtains away from the window and stand there with his hands in his trousers' pockets and his shirt's sleeves rolled up. After a few minutes he saw Molly approaching, and ran a hand inside his forearm. They looked at each other, he bowed his head and said something in her ear. She smiled sweetly slipping her hand into his, and then gently tugged and they both walked away from the window.

He began pacing nervously up and down occasionally glancing at the windows. Was it possible that what he thought was happening inside that house was really happening? Another hour passed before a cab stopped in front of the main entrance and Molly left with her suitcase in one hand, her coat folded on her arm and her handbag over her shoulder.

He narrowed his eyes on her and noticed that she had changed her clothes. She probably took a shower after…he closed his eyes, and the instant he did he could see her face. The expression in her honey-coloured eyes, the brown almost eaten away by her dark pupils… he could hear her begging for more…he could see her coming undone…he could hear her moaning as she peaked, moaning his name.

Not his brother's, not Mycroft's.

Chapter 2

Molly entered her flat breathing a sigh of relief, she couldn't wait to throw herself on the bed and sleep. The jetlag and the hot shower were getting the better of her. She got rid of everything she was wearing, except her underwear, and went straight to her bedroom. She set the alarm clock and snuggles under the covers.

She got up five hours later still slightly dazed, put on the dressing gown hanging behind the door and went to the kitchen to make tea. That kitchen still brought back memories of that Sherlock's phone call from Sherrinford. Just as the living room reminded her of the clarifying encounter she had with him in the very early morning hours after those events.

The words Molly yelled at him echoed in her ears, "Are you happy now? Is your ego satisfied?" she hadn't shed a tear in front of him as he stood, his arms along his body, a pained expression on his face "I'm sorry, Molly" a barely audible whisper.

And she yelled at him again "Why did you have to? Why did you want me to tell you? I never wanted anything from you, I never deluded myself you could fall in love with me…so why? My feelings for you were…mine, only mine!".

Sherlock had approached and wrapped her in his arms, despite her wriggling and beating her fists on his chest screaming "I hate you, I hate you!". When the strength to fight left Molly, he pulled her slightly away from him and said "I'm here to explain. Please, listen to me. If you don't want to have anything to do with me anymore, I'll understand and I promise I'll disappear from your life".

So they sat on the sofa, she leaning on the armrest with her legs gathered to her chest and Sherlock not far away with his eyes fixed on her face. When he finished the whole story, Molly hugged him tightly and he did the same. They remained like this for a long time, as if they were two wounded animals licking each other's wounds.

When they finally looked into each other's eyes again, they knew that everything had happened the previous day was forgiven and that they would be fine. They would have been able to let bygones be bygones. Sherlock aware that Molly was in love with him and Molly aware that Sherlock loved her only as a precious and trusted friend.

From there, from their mutual affection, they would start over, laying new foundations for their friendship. However, it would take some time to sort things out, and the job offer that came to her from the John Hopkins' Pathology Department in Baltimore a month later seemed like a good opportunity to be away from London and Sherlock for a few months. Now that she was absolutely sure he would never reciprocate her feelings, the distance would help her to downsize those feelings once and for all.

As Molly waited for the water to boil, she picked up her phone and found a text from John asking her to move the evening to his house since Rosie has a bit of a cold. She replied positively and warned him she would arrive a little later than previously agreed. Then she dialled Mycroft's number.

She had to let it ring for a while before he answered "Are you okay?" she asked as soon as she heard his voice, "Yes, yes I was still sleeping" he replied, "I'm sorry. I didn't think about it. I wanted to know…", he interrupted her "It's okay, Molly. Where are you?", she sipped the hot liquid "Still in my flat. My welcome back has been moved to John's house, his daughter is not so well".

There was a few seconds of silence "Have you already seen or heard my dear little brother?" he asked, "No, I'm a little nervous at the thought, Mycroft" she confessed, "I'm sure as soon as he sees me, he will draw his deductions", he laughed briefly "Let's be honest, Molly. My little brother never deduced you correctly. It's always been the other way around".

She sat on the stool and admitted "It may be" and then let out a long sigh "We have to tell him, Mycroft. Before Sherlock finds out for himself…I've never lied to him and I don't want to start now that our friendship is returning to what it was once", she heard Mycroft snorted annoyed.

Molly smiled at the thought that the Holmes' brothers weren't all that different in reacting when someone contradicted their ideas, "Okay, fine" he muttered finally defeated, "I'll arrange a lunch for Sunday, is it okay for you?" he asked her, "Yes, that's fine. And invite your parents, too", "Oh, for God's sake, Molly!" he exclaimed exasperated.

"We already discussed this, Mycroft" Molly said with a sigh, "It's not fair to them" another silence at the other end, "Okay, I'll call them to come…you want me to bring Euros too? She's my sister, shouldn't she know too? I could grant her a special permit for this family reunion" he added with his usual irony, "Has she had any improvement? If you think she can understand…we could go to Sherrinford together and talk to her" Molly threw out.

"No improvement" Mycroft inhaled deeply, "And I don't think it's worth taking you to that place" he concluded. After a rather long silence, Molly called his name "I'm here" he replied and added "Tomorrow we have to meet at the Diogenes", Molly giggled "It's a men's club! How am I going to get in?" she asked, "Should I dress up as a man? I could get a fake moustache", Mycroft chuckled too.

"Oh, that would be fun! But don't worry about that…from the secondary entrance there is a corridor that leads directly to my private office" he explained and then asked in a practical way "What time do you think you can be there?", Molly thought about it a few seconds "By lunchtime" she replied.

"Okay. See you tomorrow then" he whispered, "Huh, Molly? Have fun tonight, and remember what I told you", she put the cup nervously in the sink "Don't…Mycroft, please" she rolled her eyes "Goodnight, see you tomorrow".

Chapter 3

"Together?", John looked at his friend with a startled expression "Your brother, the Ice Man, and our Molly?" he couldn't hold back a thunderous laugh that caught the attention of his little daughter Rosie playing on the carpet.

"I saw them, John" Sherlock said stubbornly, "At the airport and then they went to Mycroft's house" he specified sitting cross-legged next to his goddaughter "Is it possible Mycroft went to get her?" John suggested, "What nonsense, John! I offered to go get her, why would she ever want Mycroft to go? And he wasn't there to greet her, they were on the same flight…I checked" said Sherlock handing Rosie back a piece of her construction set.

"Then they might have met by chance. Your brother travels a lot on behalf of the government" John suggested an alternative explanation, "They were clinging to each other, hugging each other" Sherlock said lowering his head, "Her arm around his waist and his arm around her shoulders. I saw her stroking his arm, taking him by the hand. When she left his house, she was wearing different clothes and had taken a shower" he went on annoyed, "What is it you don't understand, John? Do I have to draw you a sketch?".

John shook his head "I can't believe Molly is having an affair with Mycroft…it's just impossible", he ran a hand through his blonde hair "That woman has been in love with you for six years, during which, let's face it Sherlock, you haven't always treated her kindly and you never ever given her a hope your friendship could evolve into something romantic. Yet she never stopped loving you. And I should believe that now, suddenly, she's in love with your brother?", John gave him a look full of doubts.

And added after taking a deep breath, "Do you know what was the last thing she said to me before embarking for Baltimore three months ago?", Sherlock looked up shaking his head in denial "Molly asked me to tell her how to stop loving someone when you don't want to love him anymore because it hurts too much".

"What was your answer?" asked Sherlock, "That you don't stop. And she replied that, in that case, she was doomed to love you for eternity", John shook his head again "So it can't be that she's with Mycroft", Sherlock smiled bitterly "I know what I saw, mate".

John observed him for a few seconds in silence "Even if it were true…why are you so bothered? You should be glad she has someone to love and that she is loved back, even if it is your brother", Sherlock stiffened "It's weird that Mr 'caring is not an advantage' and 'real people are goldfish to me', opened his heart to love" he answered keeping on to play with Rosie.

"And what is more, for heaven's sake, with all the women in the world, why he had to choose my Molly?", John didn't miss Sherlock's use of the possessive adjective 'my' combined with Molly's name, as well as his short sigh and the slight blush on the cheeks of the usually cool consulting detective, "Oh good God!" exclaimed the doctor, "You…you love Molly!".

Rosie grabbed a toy magnifying glass and yelled "Auntie, auntie Molly!" waving it in front of Sherlock's face, he laughed "Yes, yes, auntie Molly gave you this!" he said taking her in his arms, "Exactly five months ago, Sherlock, you swore that your 'I love you' was platonic, that the only feeling you could ever have for her was a deep and sincere friendship" he said looking him directly in his blue eyes.

"You swore it to me, after I saw you destroy her coffin, and you swore it to her when you told her what happened with your sister in Sherrinford", Sherlock nodded biting his lower lip "Uncle Sherl…uncle! Tv, tv please!" Rosie cried trotting away from him. John lovingly placed the child on the sofa and turned on the tv, "Half an hour, Rosie!" he warned her.

Sherlock got up and moved to the kitchen where John started setting the dinner table "Did you lie at the time?" John asked him taking the plates, "No! I was firmly certain of what I was saying. But then she left" Sherlock ruffled his hair in frustration, "Oh, God! Feelings are such a big mess! I don't think I'll ever be able to handle them!" he continued, "Welcome among us, mere mortals!" John laughed, moved by the bewildered gaze of his friend.

While Sherlock was taking care of glasses and cutlery, John checked the chicken in the oven "And did you realize you love her as soon as Molly left for Baltimore?", the tall man shrugged "Not exactly" he confessed, "The first days after her departure, I thought I missed our working partnership. You know I don't trust anyone like her" he looked at John and he nodded.

"For days every time I went to Bart's, the first stop I made was her office to greet her, to bring her a cup of coffee, to find out if she had had the results of a test I was handling, or something like that. As I usually did" Sherlock swallowed leaning against a cabinet and tugged his hands in his pockets.

"If I was in the lab, sitting under the microscope, I seemed to hear her laugh in the corridor or to hear her talking to her friend Meena, maybe remarking out on the episode, seen the night before, of a tv series in vogue at that moment" he filled a glass halfway with wine.

"If I was in the morgue I would imagine her dissecting a corpse wearing goggles and making soft jokes while remaining focused and respectful towards the dead body in front of her" washing the salad John listened to him fascinated…was it really Sherlock Holmes in front of him?

"Then I started thinking things that had nothing to do with work…things the two of us shared alone, especially…you know, when I used her flat as my bolthole", John nodded and asked "Like what?". It was hard for him to imagine what Sherlock could have done with Molly but be bored to death, but not for Molly herself who, contrary to the appearances, was a woman of great company, but for Sherlock's mood and his spinning mind.

"Things like…laughing, drinking tea, watching those stupid tv series, cooking" he chuckled at the memory, "We made a couple of pretty good apple pies. Or keep quiet. Me in my mind palace and she reading a book…you won't believe it but Molly is able to reread "Pride and prejudice" endlessly" Sherlock giggled again while sipping the wine, "Or play chess…you know, she's good at playing it. And when she defeats me, her face lights up and her smile show her dimples!", John nodded crossing his arms over his chest.

"I realized I missed her, not only at work. She started showing up in my mind palace, in my dreams" he glanced at John, "Every time I closed my eyes she was there. I started going to her flat, wandering around her rooms, touching her things, her clothes. I needed to be with her. I had…I don't know how to explain myself" Sherlock gave him a lost look "I physically need to feel her close to me" smiled blushing, "I slept several times in her bed just to smell her scent" he confessed in a whisper.

"Wow!" John widened his eyes totally astonished, "You're really done for, mate! What do you think to do about it?" asked the doctor as the doorbell rang, Sherlock shrugged and said with a sigh "Nothing. It's too late, John. I guess now it's my turn to have unrequited love".

John looked through the peephole "I disagree at all, but we'll talk about it later" he said with a nod then opened the door to their first two guests and friends, DI Greg Lestrade and Mrs Hudson.

Little Rosie quickly took over the old lady's full attention, "Granny, here!", who was happy to snuggle up with her on the sofa as the three men clear themselves in the kitchen. After about twenty minutes the doorbell rang again, Mrs Hudson was placing Rosie in her high chair for dinner and John threw a quick glance to Sherlock who didn't even hint to move, "I'll go" offered Greg.

"It must be Molly, right? Only she is missing…" in a few steps he reached the door and opened it, "Hey! Welcome back!" the cop shouted cheerfully and lifting her in his arms made her go in spinning in the air. Molly, taken aback, laughed "If this is the welcome that awaits me, I'll leave a little more often" she said when Greg put her back on the floor.

"Do not even think about it!" John admonished her hugging her warmly, "We missed you" he whispered in her ear, then took her beige coat and her black purse placing them on the coat rack. Sherlock, motionless by the stove, watched her closely as Molly was about to greet Mrs Hudson.

She wore a pair of black ankles boots, a skinny blue jeans that highlighted her fit legs and tight hips and a black turtleneck jumper that softly outlined her flat stomach and the rotundity of her small but perfect breasts.

She had recently cut her hair, Sherlock deduced, since the last time they had seen each other on a Skype video call, ten days ago, her hair was long as usual. Now, soft and bright brown hair, reached her shoulder blades and was slightly wavy and loose. Her face was lightly made up with a little blush, a touch of lip gloss and a hint of mascara.

He was lost in his reverie and didn't pay attention to Mrs Hudson who was calling his name, "Sorry, Mrs Hudson…you were saying?", his elderly landlady scolded him with her eyes "I was saying that Molly is lovely…isn't she?", he sipped the wine from the glass he was holding and held it up in Molly's direction as a greeting "Indeed, Mrs Hudson. Welcome back home, Molly".

Molly smiled at him "Thank you, Sherlock" she said and picked up Rosie who waved her arms and kept calling her "Auntie, you here! Auntie, you here! Not on screen!", "Yes little princess! I'm here, not on the screen!" she smiled slightly tickling her goddaughter who was now used to seeing her in video call on the laptop's screen.

Sherlock forced himself to turn to the stove, so strong he felt the urge to take her in his arms. And strong and pressing came the pain he felt in his chest at the thought her glow was due to his brother. He had to take a couple of deep breaths to calm his nerves.

John came over to drain the pasta and divide it into portion "Are you okay?" he asked in a low voice giving him a quick glance, Sherlock grinned ironically "Sure! Aren't I the coldest and the most calculating of human beings?", his friend passed him a plate to put on the table "Sherlock, you have to talk to her" John said under his breath, but he shook his head "Nope. Not a chance" he ruled and went to the table where everyone else had taken their seats.

The dinner passed peacefully with funny stories about Rosie and John's patients, Mrs Hudson's late husband, Greg's colleagues, Sherlock's cases and Molly's work experience in Baltimore. When little Rosie's gaze began to blur and her giggles to fade, Molly stood up and pulled her out of the high chair. "I think it's time to take her to bed" she said, then turned to John "Can I take care of her?" the man nodded and kissed his daughter on the cheek wishing her goodnight.

Sherlock slid the chair back and as Molly placed Rosie on her left hip, he walked over to both of them and looped an arm around Molly's waist then bent down to kiss his goddaughter on the forehead, "Goodnight sweetie" he whispered softly looking at Molly straight in the eye.

Sherlock saw Molly blink in confusion, felt her breath hold and noticed the pulsing point on her neck accelerate, "Well, I still have an effect on her" he told himself smiling, while Rosie threw her arms around his neck "Night, uncle! Night, uncle!". The sudden gesture of the little girl unbalanced Molly and Sherlock was forced to hold her tighter to himself to prevent her from falling.

John, who was talking to Greg, took a quick glance at the skit that took place before his eyes. Sherlock's gesture of looping Molly's waist and calling Rosie 'sweetie' while looking at Molly certainly seemed spontaneous to others, but John, who knew him well, was aware it was done deliberately. Squinting, he wondered what point Sherlock wanted to prove with that little staging.

Molly laughed, blushing a little and with Rosie sending kisses to everyone with her hand, she went upstairs and carried her into the bedroom. Once Rosie was settled, Molly sat in the rocking chair next to the little girl's bed "Come on, now lie down, Rosie. It's time for sleepy-bye" she whispered with a smile as the baby stood on the mattress and pointed to a picture hanging on the wall.

"This…granny" Rosie said putting her index finger on Mrs Hudson's figure and Molly nodded, "This dad, this mum and this…I" she continued looking at her. Molly stood up and leaned against her bed's bar "Yes, your mum is beautiful, isn't she?", the child nodded strongly "She…in heaven" she said, "Yes, she is" Molly confirmed stroking her blonde hair, "This…uncle Sherl, and this…you auntie" Molly nodded again.

Rosie put one hand to her mouth and giggled "Uncle Sherl…love auntie Molly" she said throwing herself on the mattress without stopping laughing, "Rosie! Don't be silly!" Molly told her and covered her with the duvet.

"Dad say…dad say…uncle love auntie" chanted the child, "Okay, okay. Hush, now" Molly whispered softly. She stood by her bed until Rosie was completely asleep, then turned on the baby monitor and left the room.

Chapter 4

After cleaning up the kitchen with Mrs Hudson's help, John told his friends to get comfortable in the living room to eat dessert and decided to go upstairs to call Molly. He had reached the last steps before the landing when he heard Molly say, with a hint of amusement in her voice, "Haven't we already said goodnight, Mr Holmes?". John instinctively flattened himself against the wall.

"You mean you want to know if Sherlock has sensed something" he clearly heard Molly say. She waited for the answer then said, "I think not. He behave himself so far. Anything else, Mr Holmes?" after her words followed a few seconds of silence, then again Molly chuckled "You're a naughty man, Mr Holmes! You know I have to punish you for this!".

John widened his eyes in amazement, had he heard right? He peeked around the corner at his friend, what happened to the shy and clumsy Molly Hooper? She pushed her hair behind her ear and lowered her voice "I already know how you can be forgiven", she took a few steps "Don't be impatient, Mr Holmes!" she scolded him in an amused tone and then Molly covered her face with one hand as if what Mr Holmes said, had embarrassed her.

John decided that it was no longer the case to eavesdrop, so he went downstairs beckoning Sherlock to follow him "Can you help me serve the cake?" he asked him. "What happens?" Sherlock asked him, "You were right. There is something going on between Molly and your brother" replied John taking the chocolate cake out of the fridge.

"What made you change your mind?" inquired his friend opening the cutlery drawer, "I just overheard a phone call" John revealed to him, "And how can you be so sure Mycroft was the one she was talking to?" the blond doctor gave Sherlock an impatient look, "Molly called him Mr Holmes…how many Mr Holmes do you know? And since she talked about 'naughty man', 'punishment' and 'forgiveness', I don't think she was talking to your father!" John answered ironically.

Sherlock raised his eyebrows in disbelief, "I swear, it seemed to me it was Irene Adler speaking and not Molly! I expected her to name riding crops and handcuffs and some other gadget for…you know what!" he looked up shaking his head, "Is it possible your brother has certain…'kinky tastes' and involved Molly?" asked as Sherlock seemed completely engrossed in watching their friend come down the stairs.

"Whatever Mycroft has involved her in, I think she isn't totally over me yet, John. Before, when I hugged her, I felt I still affect her" he said in a very low voice with an uncertain smile, "Then, as I already told you some time ago, do something while there's still a chance. Say something before she gives up on you forever!" John said firmly, emphasizing each word.

The two friends turned and found Molly on the other side of the table who looked at them questioningly "Any problems?" she asked, "Oh! Take no notice, you know…Sherlock must have his say also on how to cut a cake!" John answered with a chuckle. She turned on her heels and walked towards the living room, John nudged Sherlock and motioned him to go after her.

An hour later Sherlock and Molly found themselves alone in the kitchen in front of dessert plates, saucers, cups of coffee and various cutlery. Mrs Hudson and Greg had been gone for about ten minutes and John had gone upstairs to check on Rosie.

They both looked at the dishes to be washed and then looked at each other in the eye "Do we toss the coin or do we do as usual?" asked Molly, "In other words…I wash and rinse, you dry" Sherlock specified, "Exactly" she giggled as she grabbed a tea towel.

He rolled his eyes, pretending to snort, as he pulled up the sleeves of his aubergine shirt, "At your orders" he said, taking sponge and detergent. They positioned themselves in front of the sink, side by side, "So" he said opening the tap, "From what you said at dinner, you had a good time in Baltimore", she nodded looking up at him "Yes I had, but I missed Bart's. I missed you all" she said.

Sherlock smiled at her handing her a cup so that their fingers touched, Molly stood motionless for a few moments, then firmly grabbed the cup and said "They offered me a permanent job", "And are you going to accept?" he asked her with his heart pounding in his chest.

She shrugged "I don't know. It could be an important step in my career. I could work with FBI" Molly said biting her lower lip, "They want an answer in two weeks". Sherlock stopped and tilted his head to look at her "Are you seriously thinking about it?" his voice cracked slightly as he asked the question.

Hadn't Molly just said she'd missed them? So why think about going to work in Baltimore permanently? Wasn't her relationship with Mycroft strong enough to keep her in London? Questions after questions crowded into Sherlock's mind, it ran in thousands of different directions to find answers for them.

"Hey!" the snap of Molly's fingers in front of his eyes brought him back to reality, "Sorry" he whispered, "So, do you really want to leave?" he asked again clearing his throat, trying not to reveal how much that idea made him feel sick.

Molly burst into a cheerful laughter, "Don't be a drama queen as usual!" she said giving him a playful elbow in the ribs, "I'm not going anywhere for now" she said looking him straight in his blue eyes. Then Molly gave him a sly smile leaning forward towards the tap.

Sherlock was taken aback by the splashes of water that hit his face and while he blinked from the droplets, Molly took the opportunity to splash him more water. He let go of the sponge and the plate in his hand in the sink and turned to look at her, "You know you're in big trouble, right?" she laughed heartily and walked away from Sherlock backing towards the table, "If I remember correctly, I won our last water fight!" Molly declared raising her chin to challenge him.

"Yes, you did" he admitted taking two steps in her direction "But here we are not in your flat, and you cannot wet the floor to make me slip and soak me with a glass full of water!", he took two more steps but she hadn't move an inch "Mm, am I that predictable?" Molly asked with a mischievous light in her eyes.

"On the contrary, Molly. You are a constant surprise to me" he said, another step forward. Sherlock watched her to deduce what she had in mind but he could not see beyond the blush on her cheeks, her bright brown eyes, her lips full from her constant nibbling and her breast rising and falling according to the rhythm of her breath.

Sherlock was aware that since that famous Christmas party in Baker Street she had become much more careful about what she was revealing to him about herself, which made her harder to read.

Molly had been successful in hindering his deductions and for this reason for example Sherlock had not realized instantly, upon his return, that she had become engaged with Tom. Or he hadn't understood, until the revelation a few months earlier, that she had never stopped being in love with him. Just as now he couldn't figure out what was going on between her and his brother. Sherlock saw only what appeared before his eyes.

She backed away, "Do you think you can escape?" he asked amused stepping forward and reaching up to grab her wrist. Molly, suddenly, with her left hand grabbed him under his elbow and with her right hand she pinned his wrist, brought his arm behind his back and pushed him away, running to the other end of the table.

Sherlock found himself against the fridge "I didn't hurt you, did I?", he turned "Self-defence, Molly?", she shrugged "I took a class. Who better than you to practice?", he raised an eyebrow adjusting his trousers at his waist "Okay, I'm in" the tone of his voice, low and seductive.

John, getting ready to go backstairs, first froze in the middle of the hall when he heard the laughter of Sherlock and Molly, then ventured to the landing and leaned against the wall with his arms folded to watch them perform foreplay. Yes, because their chasing each other around the table, their running away, their splashing water as soon as they approached the sink, in John's eyes was clearly foreplay.

Now that Sherlock was able to let go, it was plainly that there was a certain chemistry between them, "If Sherlock alone with her has always been like this, it's obvious why she has never been able to move on" thought John to himself and looked at his friend, but the cold and calculating detective wasn't in that kitchen with Molly Hooper. There was simply a man in there. Defences down, vulnerable, ready to love and finally be loved.

John recovered from his thoughts and found them in each other's arms "I caught you! I won!" Sherlock was saying panting, Molly had both her hands on his chest, laughing and panting at the same time "You cheated! It's not fair to trip!", he ran a hand over his wet face "I remind you last time you let me slip" he said in a fake scolding tone interlacing the fingers of his hands behind her back.

"Here we are!" thought John, their laughter had faded, the atmosphere was charged with electricity, "Now he kisses her" he whispered to himself as soon as he realized that Sherlock's head had started to descend towards hers.

And unexpectedly, Sherlock's phone ringtone interrupted the magic moment. Molly broke free from his embrace and he, bewildered and annoyed, grabbed the phone from the table, "Lestrade, I hope for you it's at least an eight to call me right now!" he growled as he answered the DI's call.

Within half an hour Sherlock and Molly were sitting in a cab headed to a private college just outside London where a sixteen-year-old student had been found dead after rehearsing for a school play. John had promptly suggested that Sherlock take Molly with him, if she didn't feel too tired, because he preferred to stay indoor with Rosie.

Sherlock had understood his friend's ploy and agreed with him. Molly had said yes and now sat silently beside him looking thoughtfully out the window. "I should call Mike" she said point blank turning her head towards him and Sherlock frowned "My brother?".

A questioning expression appeared on her face "Mike, not Mickey. What does your brother have to do with it now?" she asked him. Sherlock didn't answer, taking note she knew the nickname Mycroft was called in the family. Impatiently, she waved a hand in the air as if to erase what he had said.

"Forget it…Do you want me to do the girl's autopsy?" she asked him and Sherlock nodded, "So I had to call Mike and get authorized. My official return is set for tomorrow afternoon" she explained rummaging through her bag looking for her phone. Sherlock notice that in inserting the pin code, Molly had slid slightly on the seat to the right as if to hide the image on the home screen of her device.

They arrived at 'St. Barnaby College' five minutes after Molly's phone call to Mike Stamford. At the entrance to the institute there were several police patrols and several officers engaged in the collection of depositions. It was Sergeant Donovan who accompanied them to the huge library where Greg was questioning the Dean and Anderson and the forensics team were at work.

"I want Molly to take a look at the body" Sherlock said in a firm voice to Greg as the pathologist on duty moved from the girl's corpse and rolled his eyes, "After Molly is done, have the body taken to Bart's. Stamford has already been warned" he continued undaunted, then he smiled at Molly as she walked cautiously to one of the desks at the base of which the murdered girl lay. "Now, update me" Sherlock said to Greg starting to carefully observe every point of the room.

They arrived at Bart's at precisely at one in the morning and walked side by side towards the employees' front door "I'm going to the locker room to change" Molly said, taking her locker keys from her bag. Sherlock nodded and told her that he would wait for her in the lab where, in the meantime, he would start analysing the samples he had collected.

About three hours later Molly entered the lab and found Sherlock sitting on the stool and bending over the microscope, completely focused on what he was observing. Without saying a word, she placed the cup of coffee on the table within his reach and turn on her heel to sit at the desk at the back of the room and start filling out papers.

"Stay here" Sherlock's baritone voice stopped her and when she turned he looked up and leaned back on the stool, "What about it?" he asked reaching for the cup of coffee. "She didn't defend herself. A sudden blow to the right parietal bone with a sharp object. She didn't die immediately though, she bled out. Presumably she was struck between 9.30 and 10 pm" Molly said leaning her back against the table, "And she was ten weeks pregnant" she added sipping her coffee.

Sherlock motioned her to come closer "What do you think?" he asked, pointing to the slide inserted in the microscope as he lowered the eyepiece to be level with her and sliding the stool back to give her enough space. Molly took her position and watched in silence for a few seconds, then adjusting the micrometre screw said "It looks like a seaweed. Where did you find it?" she asked continuing to observe.

"Not far from the body. There were a couple of footprints. Anderson took the cast, let's see what comes out" he answered with a long sigh, "The girl, Lizzie Sterling, is the daughter of George Sterling, of the Sterling & Baker construction company" Molly informed him turning and rubbing her neck with one hand, "I guess you will be besieged by the press" she said with a quick smile knowing how much Sherlock hated giving statements and interviews.

"Does it hurt?" Sherlock asked her and she looked at him bewildered not understanding what he meant, "Your neck, does it hurt? You've been massaging it for a while" he explained, "Oh! No, no big deal. My muscles are tense. I slept badly on the plane and doing the autopsy made it worse" she said smiling.

"Come over here and turn around" Sherlock ordered in a harsher tone that he intended, "What?" Molly, who had lowered her head, replied looking at him from the corner of her eye. Sherlock, remaining seated on the stool, reached out to grab her left wrist, tugged her towards him and spun her.

Molly found herself standing between his legs with her back to him. Sherlock reached out his right hand and began to free some buttons of her coat and work-blouse. Molly stiffened and put a hand on his "Sherlock, what are you…", he leaned over "Relax, Molly and trust me" he ordered with a whisper in her ear.

She let go of his hand and Sherlock continued to unbutton her garments to her breast, then he pulled them down to her shoulder blades. He rubbed his hands together before placing four fingers of each on her shoulders, then he began to apply firm pressure with his thumbs in a circular motion.

After a few minutes he changed the massage by sliding his fingers up and down her neck, then lightly pinching her nape and continued moving his hands in circular fashion over her shoulder blades. As he progressed, Molly felt her body totally relax. With her eyes closed she was leaning against him completely. If someone had asked her what her name was at that moment, she would not be able to say it.

"Oh, God! Sherlock…" she whispered sighing without even realizing it, he smiled hovering over her, that sigh had given him a long-lasting shiver down his spine, "Do you like it?" Sherlock asked in a hoarse voice, "Yes, definitely" her reply was accompanied by a nod of her head.

Chapter 5

"I haven't felt this relaxed since…" Molly said giving him a brief glance over her shoulder, "I don't remember that anymore" she added giggling and turning again, "So, you want me to continue?" Sherlock asked, his warm breath near her ear, "Oh, yes please!" she pleaded.

And he was more than happy to indulge her by resuming the previous movements, this time sliding the straps of her black lace bra down her arms so that he could massage her shoulders as well.

It was amazing how good she felt about receiving that massage, Sherlock's hand finding and loosening every knot of tension in her muscles. And soon her mind too, cleared away all worry and frustration. The more Molly indulged in the pleasant sensation his touch gave her, the more her thoughts drifted in directions she believed she had buried, if not erased.

She told herself she had to leave with the excuse she needed to catch up on a few hours of sleep before starting her shift in the afternoon, but above all that she couldn't and shouldn't feel what she was feeling. But she couldn't move, there was some kind of force holding her nailed to Sherlock.

He watched in raptures as Molly's body responded to the touch of his hands. Her head alternatively shifting to give him more access to her neck's sides, her soft and velvet skin shivered with every stroke of his fingertips.

Suddenly, without her permission, Molly's hands found their way to lean against Sherlock's thighs, sensing the immediate twitch of his muscles at her touch. She couldn't stop herself from moving them slowly up and down, stroking him through his trousers' fabric. Once again she ordered herself to leave. What the hell had she thought of? She was teasing him and that wasn't what a friend was supposed to do.

At her light touch, Sherlock's stomach squeezed and his entire body was ripped by a jolt of pleasure. An unexpected and animalistic urge pushed Sherlock to wrap her waist whit his left arm and pull Molly closer to him, knowing that she would have caught how much he wanted her.

She closed her eyes and held her breath as she discovered how affected Sherlock was from the rubbing of her hands on his thighs. "He's a man after all, isn't he?" a voice in her mind told her, "His body reacts to stimuli. It would happen even if I were someone else".

He dipped his face into her hair inhaling the scent of her green apple and lime shampoo, his mind becoming dizzy and his nostrils intoxicated. Then, he cupped his right hand on her jaw, stroking her cheekbone with his thumb and bringing her to rest her right cheek on his collarbone.

At the contact with the fabric of Sherlock's jacket, Molly called herself stupid. Mycroft had warned her that seeing Sherlock again would bring back her feelings for him. And instead she had sworn again and again to him that she would be able, now that Sherlock had clearly told her that he could never love her as a man loves a woman, to be only his friend.

Sherlock felt Molly's breathing had become heavier and saw her breasts rise and fall at that rate. He looped his hand, lightly but possessively, around her neck brushing with his thumb her pulsing point. A gesture she found so erotic she could not hold back a low moan.

That faint sound elicited something deep inside him and spurred him to grind himself against her bum. In response Molly let out a more hoarse moan and her lips parted slightly as her hand moved to stroke his inner thighs. His mind was on the edge of a precipice, hers had already given up.

Sherlock brought his mouth close to hers totally taken by the thought of tasting it, and it was then that he felt her tongue slid along his lower lip. He snapped his eyes away from her mouth to fully savour the new sensation and to observe her entire face. Molly was, with her eyes closed, pink cheeks and rapture expression, as beautiful as Sherlock saw her in his latest dreams.

Molly's tongue slid along his upper lip brought him back to focus on her mouth. Sherlock stroked the tip of his tongue with that of hers once and then again, letting out a groan. She became bold and lashed her tongue with his, spinning herself and facing him.

"Oh God, Molly!" he let out in a rush as she grabbed the collar of his jacket with one hand and tucked the other between his curls pulling them slightly as her tongue intertwined with his. Sherlock cupped his hands on her jaw and deepened the kiss passionately.

He moved one arm around her waist and the other to the middle of her back holding Molly as close to him as possible, a deeper contact hampered by their clothes. Sherlock's kiss became ravenous, he seemed to devour her and she kissed him back with the same enthusiasm. Luckily there was no one in that part of the building at that time of the night, so they didn't have to worry about how loud their moans were.

The insistent ringtone of Sherlock's phone, placed in the inside pocket of his jacket, brought Molly back to reality. She broke the kiss and abruptly broke away from his embrace, rearranging her clothes. Sherlock reached out to her, to hold her back but she nervously escaped his grip, "Answer your phone" she panted.

He looked at her confused "Molly", she turned away from him "Answer that damn phone!" she repeated irritated with herself for letting herself go. "Why? Why the hell are you so stupid?" she kept repeating to herself as Sherlock rolled his eyes seeing who was calling him.

"What do you want?" he asked sharply as he slipped off the stool, "Yes, Lestrade called me" he laughed ironically, "Why am I not surprised you know the girl's father?" he added trying to hide the evident bulge in his trousers under his jacket.

Listening to the other person, Sherlock glanced at Molly who was scribbling something on a piece of paper "Oh, stop please, Mycroft!" he snorted bored and noticed that in mentioning his brother's name, Molly had jerked her head up and turned red.

"I know how to do my work! At this exact moment I am at Bart's lab" he stated slipping a hand in his pocket, he turned his back on her and began to pace the room, "Plus there's Molly here with me to help me out" Sherlock said with the evident intent of annoying his brother by letting him know that his 'girlfriend' was alone with him at that time of the night, and at the same time seeing Molly's reaction for himself.

But when he turned again Sherlock saw that Molly was gone. Mycroft just told him not to take advantage of Molly's kindness and to keep him informed about the case of the murdered girl. Sherlock closed the call and walked over to the counter where the piece of paper Molly had written on lay. He took it in his hand and read it I'M SORRY ABOUT THE KISS. IT WASN'T FAIR OF ME TO TEASE YOU. IT WILL NOT HAPPEN AGAIN.

Sherlock rushed into the corridor but there was no sign of her. He considered joining her in the locker room but for sure by the time he got there, Molly would probably have already been outside the building.

He picked up his phone and sent her a text, WE NEED TO TALK. TOMORROW AT LUNCH. WAITING FOR YOU IN BAKER STREET. SH

It was several minutes before her reply arrived, THERE IS NOTHING TO TALK ABOUT. I'M YOUR FRIEND AND I SHOULD NOT HAVE KISSED YOU, THAT'S IT. I ALREADY HAVE A LUNCH DATE. SEE YOU AT BART'S IN THE AFTERNOON. I'LL GIVE YOU OTHER AUTOPSY'S RESULTS. MH

Sherlock let out a cry of frustration. Why wasn't it clear to Molly that he too had wanted that kiss, that if Mycroft hadn't interrupted them they would surely go beyond kissing? Wasn't it obvious enough how much he wanted her?

"And how could it be clear to Molly?" John's voice in his head asked him, "Wasn't it you who told her that your declaration of love was made only to save her life? That no matter how deeply you loved her, wasn't a man's love for a woman?" he saw his mind-John shake his head, "How can Molly think you've changed your mind?".

He had been a perfect idiot! His second 'I love you' had fallen out of his lips without even him noticing and he had destroyed the coffin intended for Molly with his bare hands out of anger at having been manipulated by his sister into hurting a woman who had been next to him in all those years without expecting anything from him and that had loved him afar and silently.

Sherlock, always cold and calculating, had suddenly found himself overwhelmed by an infinite number of emotions without knowing what to do with them or how to manage them. And the emotions he felt for Molly had been so intense that it frightened him.

He had seen John's grief over the loss of Mary and Sherlock didn't want to know such grief, and loving Molly openly would surely put her life in danger as it had with Euros. So he made sure that Molly continued to be a part of his life thanks to their friendship but didn't become its hub, its heart.

Sherlock had had thus plenty of time to put his life back in order, which had been totally upset by what happened in Sherrinford and by the revelations of his sister. And despite all the clues of his real feelings for Molly was there in front of him, Sherlock had refused to see them and admit the reality. He had been in love with her, and for a very long time.

In the meantime, however, Molly had agreed to go to Baltimore for three months. And since then she had crept into his head, into his dreams, under his skin. Her absence had become a physical discomfort to which Sherlock found remedy for in meeting her more and more frequently in his mind palace.

The space Molly occupied in Sherlock's mind palace was not confined to a single room, it was more like an apartment with several rooms connected to each other. At first he entered that space for a short time and only once a week, exactly after talking to her on video call.

Then he went to his mind-Molly more often and stayed longer. He always found her waiting for him, welcoming him with her sweet and warm smile. Sometimes wearing only her underwear and one of his shirt, sometimes fully clothed.

During those visits they often made love. He remembered the first time was a passionate and erotic act consumed against the front door because his desire for her was so strong that the bedroom seemed too far away. But most of the time their lovemaking was slower and more intimate, whispering their names like a chant amid rising groans.

Countless times they had just talked hugging and curled up in bed. Or they were both on the sofa, she sitting with a book in one hand and the other intent on stroking his hair as he was lying with his head on her lap lingering in his mind palace.

Other times they stood in the kitchen with Molly wrapped in a white apron with cherry designs in front of the stove and he beside her, ready to taste what she was cooking. Or sitting across from each other with the chessboard between them, with Molly very focused on the best move to make and occasionally looking up at him in an attempt to deduce him.

Sherlock's favourite moments, however, were when they were relaxing in the hot water of the bathtub. The bubble bath's foam covered their naked bodies. Molly's back against his chest and her head resting on his shoulder, their fingers intertwined and their legs tangled.

Sherlock was brought back to reality by the sound of the machine, which had finished analysing the samples. He ran a hand over his face wearily, now he had to concentrate on the case, but the first thing to do in the morning was to talk to John, he needed his advice.

Chapter 6

John walked into his former apartment on Baker Street at exactly ten in the morning. In the main room he found Mycroft standing by the fireplace looking at his brother as if he were waiting for something, and Sherlock sitting in his chair wearing his camel dressing gown over his clothes staring stubbornly into void.

"Oh, finally Dr Watson!" Mycroft sighed, he looked at the two brothers "Whatever it is, keep me out" John warned them heading into the kitchen where Mrs Hudson was making tea as quietly as possible.

"It's just a family lunch, Sherlock" Mycroft reiterated, "The two of us and mum and dad" he added. Sherlock looked at him sideways and asked "If there's something you have to tell me, why don't you just say it?".

Mycroft moved towards the centre of the room "Do as you please. Mum and Dad will be sorry since they wanted to talk to you about Euros", he put his hand into his waistcoat's pocket to check his watch "Anyway, I have to go. I have a lunch date I absolutely cannot miss".

Sherlock jerked his head towards him, suddenly attentive "A lunch date? With the murdered girl's father?" he asked while Mycroft put on his coat, "No, brother mine. At 'Diogenes' with some of the members" he answered giving him a short smile then turned his head towards the kitchen "Goodbye Mrs Hudson…Dr Watson" he said and walked to the door.

"Okay, I'll come to lunch on Sunday" Sherlock said hastily, freezing Mycroft in the doorway, "Very well and…keep me updated" he greeted his brother with a nod and left. As soon as Sherlock heard the door downstairs close, he jumped to his feet and walked over to the window to observe his brother wait for the long black chauffeured car he used to ride.

"What the hell is going on?" John asked sitting down in his chair with a cup of tea in his hand. He looked at the wall behind the sofa, next to the painted smile were hanging papers and photos "Is this about the case that Greg called you last night?" he asked.

Sherlock turned to look at his friend with his hands in his pockets and biting his lower lip "We have to go" he said simply, getting rid of his dressing gown and taking his coat hanging behind the door "Did you come with your car?" he asked him and John nodded.

When he got up, Mrs Hudson came out of the kitchen "Oh, Sherlock! You came back four hours ago! You didn't sleep or eat breakfast!" she complained to him. Sherlock smiled at her adjusting his blue scarf around his neck "Mrs Hudson, you know I don't eat when I'm on a case", he gave her a quick kiss on her forehead and walked towards the stairs followed by John.

At the front door Sherlock stopped to put on his gloves "You have to follow Mycroft" he said to John, "Why?" his friend asked back, "Both Molly and Mycroft have an appointment for lunch. Mycroft's is at 'Diogenes' and being a men only club makes me assume he is meeting with George Sterling who may be hiding something that has to do with his daughter's death" he opened the door and went outside.

"Let me know who he sees and if he really goes to 'Diogenes'" Sherlock added raising a hand to stop a cab, "In that case his lunch would be with Molly. Is that what you believe?" John asked, "Precisely" replied the tall detective opening the cab's door.

"And where are you going?" his short friend pressed, "I will follow Molly" he answered putting a hand on John's shoulder, "I'll explain everything later" he said getting into the cab. John nodded and immediately headed for his car.

The two friends met a couple of hours later in a back street of the 'Diogenes', "So Mycroft's lunch is with Molly" stated John observing the slender figure of the woman standing in front of the secondary entrance of the prestigious men's club, "It seems so" Sherlock muttered, narrowing his eyes on her.

At that moment the door opened and Mycroft stepped out looking cautiously in both directions, then smiled at Molly and kissed her on her cheek. He took another look and placing a hand on the small of her back, he guided her inside.

"What do we do now?" asked John looking his friend in the eye, "We enter through the main entrance and spy on them from the office next to Mycroft's" he said walking towards the opposite side of the road, "Really? But there is no office near…" began him but Sherlock interrupted "As always John, you see but don't observe. Come on" he said with a firm tone.

The valet at the entrance greeted them both and nodded when Sherlock told him he needed to see his brother. Arrived at Mycroft's office, Sherlock stopped near a wall lamp, rotated the light bulb inside it and a sliding door opened in front of them.

Sherlock motioned for John to enter and closed the door from the inside. The room was very small and completely devoid of furniture, except for a medium sized mirror hanging on the wall. Sherlock walked over to it, pressed a small button on either side and Mycroft's office appeared "A monitor" John whispered.

The consulting detective nodded smiling "You can talk in a normal tone, they can't hear us" he said turning his attention to the screen, "But we can hear them" said his friend standing next to him. Sherlock nodded.

Mycroft was half-seated on the front of his desk and Molly was standing in front of him, thus turning her back to John and Sherlock. "You have nothing to apologize for" Mycroft was telling her as he run his hands up and down her arms, "I told you it could happen" he added softly, "It was my fault. I teased him. He…he just gave in" said Molly with a sigh.

"And I can't blame him" Mycroft said lifting her chin, the hint of a smile at the corner of his mouth, "You should blame me, actually" she said lowering her head, "Don't be silly, Molly" Mycroft hugged her tenderly.

That gesture of affection from Mycroft greatly surprised John who instinctively looked at Sherlock. He was motionless and his features betrayed no emotion. John looked back at the monitor and heard Mycroft ask "How long have you been in love with my little brother?" she sighed without answering.

"I suppose, I'm not an expert on the subject, that people remain fond of those they have loved in the past. It takes time to completely forget them", Molly turned away from him and the elder Holmes asked her "What are you going to do?".

The two friends in the adjoining room saw her shaking her head "Nothing. It won't happen again" she shrugged, "Molly, remember what I told you when we were in Baltimore" he whispered in a lecture tone, "And I'll tell you one more time. I. Don't. Believe. It" she stated pointing out every single word.

"I'll be his friend. This is what he wants, this is what he will have" she stated in a firm tone, Mycroft smiled raising his arms in surrender "Okay. We do as you want", Molly thanked him getting closer and laughing she said "You know who's in charge, right Mr Holmes?", an amused smile appeared on Mycroft's face "Absolutely yes, mistress!" he said taking off his jacket.

John turned to hear Sherlock hit the wall with one hand and say through clenched teeth "Damn it! All this is impossible!". He fell silent on hearing Molly say "We don't have much time, Mr Holmes. Take off your waistcoat and shirt" and his gaze focused again on the woman he loved and his brother.

John swallowed hard, wouldn't they have stayed and watched what was about to happen? Mycroft was now shirtless, Molly had folded up his clothes on one of the chairs in front of the desk, "Sit down" she ordered and he went to sit in the comfortable leather chair, turning the back of it to the monitor.

She joined him and knelt in front of him "Are you comfortable, Mr Holmes?" they heard her ask but did not hear Mycroft's reply, "Where did you have it, Mr Holmes?" her voice firm and clear, "In the bottom drawer, on your right" his voice slightly trembling.

They couldn't see what Molly was doing because the view was covered by the desk and the chair's high back, but they clearly heard a drawer open, something plastic being torn and then the rattle of something that sounded like glass, "Now, stay still and don't make a sound, Mr Holmes".

John turned off the monitor and saw Sherlock close his eyes and breathe heavily "John, tell me what to do because this" he pointed to the other room, "I can't stand it" he said in one breath. "First of all, let's get out of here" suggested his good friend and once they got in the car, he said "Something happened between you two last night, am I right?".

Sherlock nodded "We kissed", John interrupted him "And was she the one to start? Because from what she told Mycroft, she thinks she teased you and you as a… man, reciprocated", Sherlock leaned his head against the headrest "The kiss, yes technically started from her. But…" he sighed then glared at John and his cheeks turned slightly red "I touched her first…I gave her a neck massage" he explained.

"Honestly I think Molly is still in love with you, and clearly Mycroft thinks so too, according to what he told her" said John, "So why is he with her?" Sherlock asked puzzled, "Well, he could be so in love with her as to be willing to wait for the day when she won't feel anything for you anymore" replied the doctor parking near Baker Street.

"The point now is…what do you want? Molly? Then fight for her" John turned to look at him, "Let it be clear to you though that Molly is no longer the girl who fell at your feet, Sherlock. You may be disappointed in the end", he nodded walking with his friend at his side towards his flat "I know".

They had just walked up a couple of steps when Sherlock's phone rang. He looked surprised at the caller's name "Hi, Mum? Any trouble in Sherrinford?" he asked with a hint of concern since Friday was the day his parents visited his sister.

"No, darling. Euros is as usual" the woman sighed briefly, "I called you to ask what kind of person your brother's girlfriend is. You know, at Sunday lunch I wouldn't want to come empty-handed" his mother chatted away and Sherlock nearly choked on his own saliva "Mycroft's girlfriend?" he spat out raising his voice as John peeked out of the kitchen.

"Didn't he introduce her to you? Didn't he even tell you he had a girlfriend? Oh!" Sherlock heard his father's voice in the distance tell his mum that maybe now she had spoiled their eldest son's surprise, "Oh, my goodness, husband, I didn't really think about it!". Sherlock rolled his eyes letting himself fall into his armchair "Mum…mum! Was it Mycroft who told you he has a girlfriend?" he asked trying to keep his tone's voice as controlled as possible.

"Well, not really, darling. He told me that on Sunday he has to tell us something important and asked me to bring your grandmother's ring" said Mrs Holmes pausing before adding, "And you know who that ring is for, Sherlock" he sighed deeply, "Yes, Mum. It's the engagement ring grandmother left to me and Mycroft. The first of us to get engaged has the right to give it to his future wife".

"So there's not much to deduce, darling. Okay, come on, I'll find a little present for this mysterious woman. See you on Sunday, Sherlock" and with these words she closed the call. John, leaning on his chair's back, watched his friend pass a hand over his face and say "I only have two days to woo, whatever that means, and win Molly over".

Chapter 7

"Here, Molly" his baritone voice took her by surprise once she reached the landing. Molly turned her head to her left and gaped at him. She expected to see Sherlock absorbed in the Sterling's case, certainly not in the kitchen peeling an apple "Will you give me a hand?" he asked with a smile.

Molly entered looking curiously at the other things on the table "What experiment is this?" she asked as she crossed the threshold "No experiment" he answered opening a drawer from where he took a knife and placed it on the table, "It's our apple pie" he said looking her for a moment in the eye, "If you want an apron you have to go downstairs and ask Mrs Hudson".

Molly shook her head "No need. I'm leaving. You asked me to bring you the autopsy's results. Here you are" she said pulling out a green folder full of papers from her bag "I'll put it in there" she added entering the main room. It was evident from the state of the room that Sherlock was on a case. On the wall hung several photos of the victim's schoolmates, a floor plan of the school building and slips of paper with various notes.

On the desk between the two windows the laptop was opened and turned on, Molly put the folder next to it and went back to the kitchen, "There's a new email from Greg" she told him, "I'll read it later" Sherlock took an apple, smiled and threw it at her "Come on, give me a hand. Or you won't have dessert tonight" he said with a chuckle.

Molly grabbed the fruit by sheer miracle "Are you inviting me to dinner?" she asked tilting her head to one side to observe him better, "If you have no other commitments" Sherlock replied putting the sliced apple slices in a bowl where he had already poured the sugar and the lemon juice.

He nodded to the microwave next to which there where two bags from the takeaway shop down the street "Chicken and mushroom's pie and chips" he said with a wink. Molly bit her bottom lip, undecided about what to do "You never eat when you are on a case" she pointed out, "Why this invitation?" she asked getting on the defensive, "Is there necessarily a reason to want you here with me?" Sherlock asked back, fixing his blue eyes into hers.

"I have changed a bit in the last few months, Molly. I no longer act, or at least not always, to get something in return" he said after a short sigh. Then he walked around the table and approached her "If you are embarrassed about our kiss" he whispered as she blushed.

"I don't blame you for hitting on me…I know I'm cool and sexy!" Sherlock joked, giving her one of his rare sincere smiles. Molly blushed even more if possible and rolled her eyes "Yeah, sure and not at all confident!" Molly stated and gave him a light playful push.

Sherlock snapped a quick kiss on her cheek "Come on!" he urged her returning to take care of the cake's filling. Molly laughed heartily and gave in, shedding her coat, bag and shoes. After placing the apple pie in the oven and the food in the microwave, Molly went to the bathroom. She had to admit that the evening was slipping away well, she felt like they had gone back to the days when Sherlock used her flat as his bolthole. Comfortable with each other. Friends.

When she returned to the kitchen, Molly saw the table had been cleared and that plates, glasses and cutlery had been arranged "There's a bottle of wine in the fridge if you want some" Sherlock's voice came from below and she crouched, "I've already served myself a glass" he said.

Molly raised her eyebrows in surprise that he was sitting on the floor next to the oven with the autopsy report's folder open over his leg "Did you find something useful?" Molly asked pouring herself some wine and sitting down next to him, on the other side of the oven.

Sherlock sipped the content of his glass "No. I'm sure everything revolves around her pregnancy", "Was it her boyfriend?" she asked doubtfully, Sherlock closed the folder and placed it on the floor "Her boyfriend is not the father of the child. Amanda Sterling was having an affair with a man" he said leaning his head against the cabinet.

"An older man? Like a teacher?" Molly sat sideways, "It could be. I have to check Lestrade's email. There are some footage of the Sterlings' house and school" he concluded closing his eyes. Molly sipped the wine and peered through the glass at the cake in the oven. She was used to his sudden silence which could last for hours, but Molly knew that his brilliant mind came at a cost.

She waited patiently for him to come back from his mind palace, taking advantage of that moment to get a better look at him. She found he hadn't changed physically. His body was always slender and athletic, his gaze always piercing and attentive, a few more wrinkles which, however, gave him an even more intriguing air.

But Molly sensed something different in him. She had noticed during the school visit that Sherlock had been less rude, and the way in which he had addressed people, however firm and commanding, was not aimed at showing his prowess.

"Which Sherlock do you prefer?" he asked breaking the silence and opening his eyes to her, "What?" Molly asked taken aback, aware that he had caught her staring at him, "I told you I've changed" he said without taking his eyes off her, "A little" he added smiling at her, "I still have a hard time showing my feelings to the people I love but slowly I'll learn how to do it" he whispered holding her hand, resting on the floor, in his own.

Sherlock saw her swallow hard and noticed a subtle movement of her index finger as if she wanted to free her hand but she didn't "This is because you are used to not showing what you feel. What your sister did to you when you were little, made you who you are" she lowered her eyes and licked her lips, "But you have always shown people you care, how much you love them".

Sherlock looked at her questioningly and Molly laced her fingers to his "John, for example, but also Mrs Hudson and Greg. You jumped off the roof of Bart's for them" she took a deep breath and he looked down at their hands.

"Shall we talk about Mary? She shot you and yet you defended and protected her. You killed in cold blood for her. Why would you have thrown your life away for them if you didn't love them? This is love, Sherlock, whatever you called it. You have always been capable of love" she gave a long sigh and smiled at him.

His skin nearly burned at her touch and he rub a thumb over her knuckles, thinking "I never showed my feelings to you", she giggled uneasily withdrawing her hand "You saved my life", "It was never really in danger" he objected, "Yes, but you didn't know that. And you did what needed to be done to save me" she looked down at her glass and sipped some wine.

The microwave's ping warned them that the food was ready. Sherlock jumped to his feet and held out his hand to help her up. Molly took it and found herself in his arms. It was hard for Sherlock not to kiss her. He ached for her mouth after experiencing what it could do to his body.

They looked at each other for a moment in the eyes and what he read there gave him further hope. All was not lost but he was not to be hasty "Hungry?" he said moving away from her who nodded as he opened the microwave's door.

After dinner, during which they hadn't talked much, Molly practically had to force him into the main room to deal with the Sterling's case. It took her about half an hour to tidy up, then sliced the apple pie and joined him. She saw him focused on the laptop's screen so she approached the desk on tiptoe.

"The smell is good. Have you tasted it?" he asked out of the blue when she was inches away from him, "Oh, God!" gasped Molly and he turned to look at her amused "You haven't changed in that! You always enjoy giving me…" she stopped, put the dessert plate in his hand, and leaned over the screen, brushed against his arm with her breast, looking at the image.

"I know him!" she exclaimed turning her face to look at Sherlock without realizing that their mouths were practically touching. They both stood still for a time that seemed endless then Molly sharply stood up and said "It's Dr Allen. He's a famous neurosurgeon", Sherlock shook himself from the transitory rapture and got up to go to the coffee table in front of the sofa.

He leafed through the various sheets of paper until he extracted one with a winning smile and read it quickly "Amy Allen, daughter of Dr Mark Allen" he proclaimed, "The two girls are classmates and…best friends", Molly looked again at the image on the laptop "And this explains why Dr Allen is at the Sterlings' house at half past midnight?".

Sherlock flipped through more sheets of paper "Tell me the exact day, Molly", she focused her attention on the strip showing the time and day data "July 16th". After reading he picked up his phone and typed something. Molly looked at him as always fascinated by the speed with which his mind connected events and dates, "Go on with the footage and tell me if you see him again" Sherlock told her.

Within an hour and a half they found evidence that Dr Allen was the man Lizzie Sterling was having an affair with. While Sherlock was talking on the phone with Lestrade explaining what he had discovered, Molly had sat on the sofa and had started scrolling, on another laptop, the photos taken on the murder's evening downloaded from the pupils' phones.

When Sherlock turned to tell her that the bottom of a small lake near the school where the murder's weapon was supposed to have been thrown would be scanned the next day, he found her lying down and asleep.

He squatted beside the sofa and brushed some hair off her face. He watched her silently and smiled to himself vowing that this time he wouldn't waste the opportunity to have Molly by his side.

Surely he would never be a normal boyfriend, plus that term, given the age of both, was not even appropriate. One who came back on time for dinner or who went shopping, or who remembers anniversaries and birthdays, but Molly knew this well. He just had to make her understand how much he loved her. And that his was the love of a man for a woman.

"You won't let her sleep on the sofa, I hope!" at the sound of that voice, Sherlock quickly withdrew the hand that was still holding a lock of her hair, and turned his gaze towards the doorway "Do you have a better idea, Mrs Hudson?" he asked his landlady.

"Of course I have!" said the old lady, "I brought some biscuits for breakfast" she said advancing towards the kitchen showing him the container she was holding. "Well! Are you still there, young man?" she asked in a commanding tone, peeking her head out of the kitchen "Take that poor girl in your arms and take her to your bed" she ordered.

"If I didn't know you well I'd bet, when I walked in, that was just what you were thinking of doing too!" she turned her back to go towards his bedroom, "And, guess what, I would say not to sleep!", Sherlock had to stifle a laugh at that statement. Mrs Hudson was still convinced that there was more than a friendly bond between him and John, and wondered if she would ever change her mind.

In the gentlest way possible he scooped Molly up in his arms, freezing when she sleepily wrapped her arms around his neck and leaned on his chest, murmuring a few words of which he only caught 'Holmes'.

When he entered his bedroom he saw that Mrs Hudson had lowered sheets and duvet at the end of the bed, so that he could lay Molly down and cover her, "You are so cute together!" sighed Mrs Hudson, "Too bad you are who you are, my darling!" she sighed again, this time resignedly, running her hand up and down his arm before leaving.

Chapter 8

Molly woke up and, as usual, rolled over with her eyes closed to enjoy the warmth under the sheets for a few more minutes. The moment she opened her eyes her heart stopped. Sherlock was lying on his stomach, hugging the pillow and sound asleep. He was wearing a t-shirt and…Molly pulled back the sheets, his pyjama bottoms.

She looked down at her body and saw that she was fully clothed. Slowly she remembered lying on the sofa the night before, how did she get there in his bed? And above all, why was he asleep? Sherlock rarely slept when working on a case.

She paused to observe him realizing that her heart had accelerated its beats. Instinctively she raised her hand to move a lock of curls from his forehead but lowered it immediately scolding herself. Sighing, Molly closed her eyes.

She really didn't know what was happening to her. She had barely returned for two days and already the confidence, acquired in the previous months, of being able to pursue a platonic friendship with Sherlock, was waning. Friends, this was what Sherlock wanted them to be and his friend was what she was meant to be.

Molly told herself she had to stop listening to Mycroft's advices. From their first meeting after Sherrinford, he constantly told her to have patience, to let time go by, not be hard on herself and that keeping Sherlock at an arm's length would not help her forget him any faster.

In all those months Mycroft had been supportive and sympathetic but like his brother, he understood little of feelings. Unfortunately they could not be turned on and off as if they were a switch. But she made a commitment to Mycroft and, this time, she wasn't going to back down because of what her heart felt for Sherlock.

Molly opened her eyes again to see Sherlock's face a few inches from hers. She hadn't see him so relaxed and peaceful in a long time. She was pretty sure the last time was when she broke up with Tom and Sherlock practically took possession of her bed. Before Mary shot him, before he had to be operated twice on for that bullet, before he killed Magnussen, before Mary died, before he started using heroin and cocaine again to save John from himself, before Euros…

All the memories crowded into her mind, overlapping and taking turns, like a crazy windmill. And all the strong emotions that went with those memories, became a giant and powerful wave that spread through her body. Suddenly she lost her breath and couldn't stop the tears and sobs.

She covered her mouth so as not to wake him and slipped out of bed. She ran in the main room where she put on her shoes with shaking hands, "I know you're not an experiment. You're my friend. We're friends" Sherlock's words echoed in her brain.

"Please, just say it" she nervously searched for a handkerchief in her purse as other words swirled in her head "I can't. Not to you. Because…because it's true", she wiped her tears and blew her nose "Stop it, Molly! Stop it now!" she scolded herself.

She closed her eyes and began to inhale and exhale slowly to regain control over her nerves. "Molly" Sherlock's voice made her shiver but she didn't turn around. She heard his footsteps approaching "Is everything ok?" in his voice a hint of concern. Molly, still turned away, nodded "I was leaving. I have things to do" she answered taking her phone out of her bag.

Sherlock took more steps, she could feel the warmth of his body on her back "Why don't you look at me?" she thought she caught a hint of sorrow in his voice, "Did I say or do something wrong?" his hands rested on her shoulders, she shook her head negatively "I have to go" she replied blowing her nose, "Thanks for the dinner" without turning she ran down the stairs.

"Molly! Molly" she heard him call several times and heard his hurried footsteps behind her. She had just reached the foyer when she felt an arm wrap around her waist and a hand lean against the door so as not to lose their balance, such was his eagerness to reach her "Wait!", she felt Sherlock's wheezing on her neck "Please, don't go" he pleaded flushing her body with his.

"Let's go back upstairs. Let's have breakfast" his lips hovering over right ear, "Later, calmly, we'll talk about what upset you so much" his voice was low and hoarse. Molly shook her head vigorously, "Nothing upset me. I just have to go" she replied trying to keep her tone as normal as possible.

"Don't lie to me, Molly!" he scolded without letting her go, "Sherlock, please, they're waiting form me" she whispered. Her phone, which he held in her hand, rang. She raised her arm slightly and although was quick to bring it to her chest hiding the screen, Sherlock was able to see the caller, Mr Holmes.

She spun and shoved him "Leave me alone, Sherlock!" she said, brushing back some tears that threatened to fall. Sherlock was taken aback by the force of her push and crashed into the wall as she opened the door and ran out.

He decided to do as she had asked but he had no intention of dropping what had happened. Because something had happened to make her cry and run away. He went back to his flat to take a shower and a cup of tea, then waited for John to arrive, after taking Rosie to day-care. Together they headed to where the murder's weapon fishing out operations would take place.

It was late afternoon when Molly entered the lab to print the results of some analyses and add them to the papers of an autopsy, made the previous afternoon, of an elderly gentleman. Sherlock and Anderson were analysing the weapon with which Lizzie Sterling had been killed.

Their eyes met and she greeted him with a short nod. He saw no sign of her discomfort in the morning. Sherlock watched carefully as she picked up the papers from the printer, put her signature on the bottom of each one and put them in a folder. His eyes followed her to the door where she met John who was returning with two cup of coffee. He narrowed his eyes at them and tried to catch their conversation.

"Are you ok? Sherlock told me you practically ran away in tears this morning" the blond doctor asked her, "He's worried about hurting you without realizing it" John lowered his voice, "You know, as much as he's changed, sometime he's still the old Sherlock" he confided giving her a wink.

She giggled "Everything is ok, John. Some sad memories" she replied with a sigh, "I'd like to be with Rosie. Can I take her to the playground next week?" John nodded "She'll be happy too", Molly smiled and hugged him fondly and then hastily left the lab.

An hour later Sherlock knocked on Molly's office door. He knew she had offered to replace the night shift colleague who had a family emergency for a couple of hours. Sherlock got no answer but decide to go inside and wait for her. The light was on in the room, so she would be back shortly. The computer turned on and several papers scattered on her desk showed she was putting paper data into files.

Sherlock placed his coat and scarf on the back of the chair opposite her desk and sat down. He immediately noticed Molly's phone under a stack of papers. He looked around cautiously trying to overcome the temptation to examine it.

He tried to distract himself from that thought. He got up, paced the room, opened the door and looked down the hall, sat down again but his gaze always fell on Molly's phone. Sherlock picked it up and turned it on, entered her date of birth as a pin but the words 'wrong code' appeared. Then he tried his own date of birth, again 'wrong code'.

Sherlock turned off the phone to turn it back on after a few seconds and try again without risking blocking it. He tried with several dates but none unlocked the screen. He was both irritated and pleased with Molly's intelligence. He was sure the code was a date because Molly had told him long ago that it was the easiest thing for her to remember.

But what date could she have chosen? It was supposed to be an important day for her but one that no one else connected to her. Sherlock's heart sank, "Oh, Molly!" he whispered under his breath, typing in the date of his fake death.

The screen unlocked and the image Molly had hidden from him two days previously, appeared before his eyes. It was a tattoo. He narrowed his eyes, enlarging slightly the image…yes, it was definitely skin under the black ink.

The tattoo featured a cursive uppercase M of the gigi font (M). Nothing strange then. But…on closer inspection it was a strange M. In the right part of the letter he clearly recognized its pointed apex and its rounded final. But on the left side, where the apex should have been, there was an eyelet and its final was intertwined with another curved sign.

Sherlock traced that part of the letter with his finger and as he went through it he realized he was tracing the curved line of the letter S (S). Oh, God! Somewhere on her body were the intertwined initials of their names. A radiant smile formed on his face and his heart leapt for joy. That tattoo meant that Molly still felt something for him. Even though she had done it in the days of her crush on him, it was still there. And not having deleted it, having it as a main image on her phone's screen gave Sherlock an extra boost.

Where Molly had had the audacity to get tattooed? Not on her shoulders, or neck or upper back because he would have noticed it while giving her the massage. It was not easy to understand since the image was very close up and there were therefore no clues about the body's parts adjacent her tattoo. His curiosity was definitely aroused.

Sherlock also wondered what his brother thought about it. Was Mycroft really so in love with Molly that he could bear to run his fingers where she had tattooed the initial of her name looped to that of another man?

In the distance he heard Molly's footsteps approaching and hastened to put her phone where he had found it. Nonchalantly he leaned his back to the chair and crossed his legs waiting for her to step into the office.

Chapter 9

Sherlock saw the door open and Molly enter with her back to the desk. That she was listening to music was evident not only from the cord of the headphones ending in the pocket of her coat, but above all because she was humming "Anywhere I would've followed you…".

She placed the water's bottle she had in her hand on the shelf of the filing cabinet right next to the door, "Say something I'm giving up on you…". In her other hand she had a folder which she quickly placed in one of the drawers, "And I will swallow my pride…". Sherlock got up and walked over to her, "You're the one that I love", Molly took her bottle back and spun "And I'm saying goodbye", she jumped back to find him only inches away.

The plastic bottle fell to the floor "For God's sake, Sherlock!" she gasped pulling off her headphones, "What do you need?" Molly asked as he giggled and leaned over to pick up the water's bottle, "Who are you saying goodbye to, Molly?" he asked back looking her straight in the eyes, "It's song's lyrics" she mumbled, "Mmm. You are hiding something from me" he simply told her when he was back in front of her handing her the water.

She blushed violently, "What?" she grabbed the bottle and walked to her desk, "What are you bubbling about? What are you doing here? John is looking for you. They found images from one of the school cameras you wanted to see" Molly flashed quickly avoiding his gaze, "Is something wrong, Molly? You seem nervous and out of sorts from this morning" as he spoke to her, Sherlock had approached.

"Everything is ok" she glanced quickly at the clock on the wall. "Molly" he began with the tone of someone who is about to lecture but she held up a hand to interrupt him, "Forgive me, but I don't have time to chat. As you can see" she said sitting down and moving her hand over the sheets of papers scattered "I have work to finish", she glanced at the clock again and then at him "Ah! I forgot the Lizzie Sterling autopsy's folder at your apartment. Can you get it back?".

Sherlock went around the desk and took his coat from the chair, put his hand in a pocket and took out a small bunch of keys and handed it to her "You can go and get it yourself " he said. Molly took it looking at him and before she could ask, he said "I'll use John's". Without taking his eyes off her, Sherlock slipped on his Belstaff and wrapped his scarf around his neck.

They both heard footsteps in the corridor and the voices of Greg and John. He leaned over her resting an arm on her desk, "What are you hiding me, Molly?" he whispered in a low voice, "I hate not knowing and I hate even more I can't deduce you" Sherlock admitted. The corners of Molly's mouth twitched into a faint satisfied smile and he, without thinking twice, captured her lips in a kiss.

Surprised, she put a hand on his chest but didn't push him away and let his lips suck and nibble on her lower one. John knocking on the door calling his name and the ringing of her phone forced Sherlock to part with her.

"I'm coming John!" he yelled, but stood still and shifted his gaze from her mouth to her eyes and back to her mouth, "Go away" she said firmly even though she was panting, pushing him with her hand and looking at her phone from time to time.

Sherlock stood up and Molly quickly reached for her mobile phone "Hello?" she answered, "Yes, it's me" she looked Sherlock in the eye and motioned him to leave, "Hold on a minute, please" she added to whoever was on the other end of the phone, "So, what? I told you to go away, Sherlock" and poking his chest with her index finger she forced him to back up to the door.

He smiled in amusement and when he put his hand on the knob he said to her "We're not done. We need to talk", Molly rolled her eyes frustrated and shoved him to let him out but Sherlock leaned over and his lips pressed under her left ear, at first nipping gently with his teeth and then sucking on a dark spot.

"Oh, God!" she exclaimed dumbfounded bringing her hand where Sherlock had left his love bite, "What the hell is wrong with you? Are you crazy?" she shook her head in reproach going back to her desk, "Forgive me for keep you waiting". Sherlock waited for her to turn around before leaving, but she didn't. The last thing he heard before the door closed was Molly asking her interlocutor if the weather was nice in Baltimore.

It was just past midnight when Molly crossed the threshold of 221b Baker Street. The flat was dark, barely illuminated by street lights. She was relieved Sherlock wasn't in because she didn't feel like seeing him. She was angry. Mostly with herself. First of all for letting herself go in the lab two nights earlier. But she was even angrier for letting Sherlock kiss her and leave a love bite under her ear just two hours earlier.

As she entered, she paused for a moment to accustom her eyes to the semi-darkness. Then she walked over to the desk where she herself had placed Lizzie Sterling's autopsy folder. It wasn't there. She should have asked Sherlock where he had put it before showing up there.

Looking for it in that mess of papers would take who knows how long and the taxi was waiting for her. And above all Molly didn't want to risk Sherlock coming back when she was still there.

His behaviour had been positively out of character of him since their kiss in the lab. Could it have awakened his sleeping libido? It could be an explanation of the way he held her hand, how his arms held her to keep her from going, his kiss and love bite. Molly took a deep breath and quickly glanced around the main room. Nothing.

She had to get those thoughts out of her mind. Hadn't Sherlock been clear? She was a friend to him. She wasn't pretty enough, intelligent enough, interesting enough for him to see her as a woman to love emotionally and physically.

She went into the kitchen where everything was unusually tidy and clean. So why that seduction game in her office? What was the point to prove? What did Sherlock do when he didn't understand something? Experiments. Oh God! Was that what he was doing? Was he testing his libido with her? Molly shook her head. No, Sherlock wouldn't go that far. Or yes?

She felt like she was losing control of herself and her life and absolutely couldn't allow him once again to be the hub around which she revolved. That night's call from Baltimore and lunch with the Holmes' at Mycroft's the next day would make things right. Molly had to hold out one more day and then, at a safe distance, she would really be just a friend to Sherlock.

But now she had to get out of there as fast as she could. The folder wasn't even there. All that remained was Sherlock's bedroom. The door was open and she took small steps in, holding her breath as if he might be inside.

His bed was still unmade from that morning, his nightwear leaning messily on the chair next to the wardrobe. And then she saw the folder hovering on the nightstand. She walked around the bed and took it, checked all the sheets of paper were there and shoved it into her bag.

Molly noticed Sherlock's presence from the shadow of his figure projected on the floor of the room, "Hi, Molly". She looked up "The…folder…was here" she stammered embarrassed to explain her presence in his bedroom, "I know" he replied in a lower voice than usual, taking a few steps towards her.

Sherlock wore neither coat nor scarf, even the jacket was gone, "Any news on the case?" she asked out of pure courtesy, "Just closed" he affirmed getting closer, "Good…I'd say" Molly looked at the floor and licked her lips upset at the atmosphere she felt there was in the room.

He touched lightly with his thumb the mark he had left previously and she gasped at the feel of his finger on her skin, "I have to go. The taxi is waiting for me" Molly whispered slipping away from his touch and walking towards the door, "I sent him away" he said calmly.

Molly clenched her jaw "What?", she felt anger build up inside her, "Why?" she asked without turning around, "Because we need to talk", she stared wryly at him over her shoulder "Oh, really? I had no idea", a bitter laugh left her mouth "Is it always up to you, right?".

Sherlock was taken by surprise because she was rarely fierce, at least with him. He didn't understand why but she felt hurt, hurt by him. Sherlock knew it from how Molly ran away that morning without even looking at his face, from how she avoided him at Bart's and from how she talked to him in her office.

But too many times Molly had put up with his bad moods and tantrums. Now it was his turn to listen to her. Sherlock slipped his hands in the pockets of his trousers and watched her turn. Her eyes blazed with anger and her cheeks had turned lightly red as her lips quivered.

"You decide when I am useful to you and when not. You decide when we need to talk. You decide we are just friends" her words were sharp, "You decide to mark me as yours. But I'm not, Sherlock" she bit her lower lip, "You know what? I don't want to guess what's on your mind. I'm not an experiment! Keep me out of your tests!" Molly lifted her chin as if she wanted to challenge him "I'm not available".

She took a deep breath and looked into his blue eyes "If you want to understand what it's like to sleep with someone you should call your ex-girlfriend" she spat out. Molly was in hysterics running a hand through her hair, "No, even better. Call your undead friend, Irene Adler. You saved her from certain death, right? She owes you a favour. And who better than a dominatrix can reveal bed-pleasures to you?".

Sherlock hadn't move and hadn't bat an eye, "Isn't that what she constantly asks of you in her texts?" she asked haughtily with a few tears in her lashes as she breathed deeply to calm herself.

Sherlock took a few steps towards her "Just stop" she warned him and he froze with his eyes locked into hers, "Leave me alone, Sherlock" she commanded not letting his gaze intimidated her.

"I can't", Sherlock reached for her and caught her hands in his "I can't, Molly" then he cupped her jaw to press a soft kiss to her lips.

Chapter 10

"I can't stand him touching you, kissing you…I go crazy when I think about it" he had stepped behind her and Molly could feel his warm breath on her right cheek.

What the hell was going on here? She swallowed the gulp in her throat "Wha…what are you talk…." Sherlock looped his arms around her as if to make her one with his body. When he ground his hips into her backside she flinched. His desire blatant. "What are you doing?" she squawked, her throat dry and her heart pounding.

"Do I really have to explain it to you, Molly?" his voice was so deep and hoarse, it caused shivers down her spine, "You're not an experiment…never were" she heard him inhale her hair's scent "And I'm not interested in Janine or Irene Adler. I never was and never will be", Sherlock would have liked to add that she was the only one had ever counted, the only one who ruled his mind and his heart.

It was understandable Molly was, at least, confused. Never, not even once, had he shown her he was attracted to her. Indeed he had often made belittling comments about her lips, her breasts and weight. And his repetitive refrain, "I'm your friend…that's it" increased her confusion because since she returned, his behaviour and his body's reaction to her presence, was certainly not that of a friend.

Sherlock's fingers traced the hollow of her neck, "Stop it" she commanded with a trembling voice shutting her eyes. She felt his smile on her cheek as he settled his open hand on her throat and lightly brushing her skin with his fingers, "Stop it" she commanded again breathing heavily.

He turned her around without releasing his embrace, and Molly put her hands on his chest as if to push him away "Stop. It. Now" she commanded once more, punctuating every word without looking him in the eye.

His lips were against hers, light and teasing "Tell me to stop, one more time", his kiss became more demanding. Molly grabbed the collar of his shirt holding it tight, fighting the urge to reciprocate "Stop…it" her words were muffled, "Mm. I can't…and you…you don't want me to" and he sneaked his tongue into her mouth, hungry and eager. Molly moaned loudly and clung greedily on his lips.

The blood was running so fast through her veins that her mind had clouded over. Her anger had turned to arousal and although she realized it was a madness she would surely regret the next day, she didn't have the strength to walk away. Molly didn't even realize Sherlock had gotten rid of her bag and coat. The bedroom's door had been closed.

Maybe Sherlock was right, they should have talked. Talk about what? About how did they come to undressing each other? Sherlock had pulled her yellow jumper off her head and she was unbuttoning his black shirt, leaving a wet kiss on his skin each open button.

His hands were in her hair, stroking and tugging, and soft sounds of appreciation came out of his mouth. When Molly's mouth reached his navel, Sherlock moved her head and claimed her for a searing kiss.

At the same time he slipped his trousers and pants down his legs in one go. While unclasped Molly's bra he looked at her intently. Her cheeks were flushed, her lips swollen and red, and her pupils so dilated that the brown irises no longer visible. Sherlock was sure his face mirrored hers.

He sent a groan as soon as her breasts were against his chest and her hands caressed his hips and his nest of curls. Every touch, every kiss Molly placed on him made his whole body and soul turn on. Oh, God how much he loved her! It wasn't his fantasy. Sherlock wasn't in his mind palace. It was all real. Molly was really there with him, in his arms.

He captured her nipple in his mouth as releasing the button and zip of Molly's trousers. She put her hands through his hair, intertwining her fingers in his curls and arching her back to put her breasts even further into his mouth. Sherlock slipped his hands over her butt cupping it and then slid her trousers and knickers in one go down to her ankles.

It was when he crouched down to help her to step out of her clothes that he saw it. The small tattoo was drawn where the inner part of her left thigh join the rest of her body. Sherlock traced its outline with his finger looking up at Molly whose eyes were watching him intently.

It was obvious from the concentration of his gaze that he figured out what the tattoo represented, "And now?" she wondered, silently preying Sherlock wouldn't ask her for an explanation. He didn't. He just smiled at her and brought his lips to it at first simply brushing it, then placing a wet, open-mouthed kiss on it, and then sucking and nibbling.

Molly threw her head back moaning loudly and tugging his hair. He pulled her legs around his waist and lifted her up. Holding her up with one hand behind her nape and the other at the small of her back, Sherlock gently laid her down on the bed.

He positioned himself between her legs, softly brushed her hair away from her face and pressed his mouth on hers. As the kiss gradually became deeper and more passionate, Sherlock thought he could spend his entire life just kissing her. Molly wrapped her arms around his shoulders, tighten him closer to her, savouring the sweetness and sensuality of that kiss.

She let out a muffled moan when Sherlock kissed his way down her body. Maybe he hadn't had much experience but he certainly wasn't a virgin. He knew very well where to put his hands and how to use his mouth and tongue. Molly bit her lower lip hard when she felt she was close to coming undone.

"Molly" whispered Sherlock stopping his ministration, she objected pulling at his hair and scratching her nails over his scalp "This tattoo…is it us?", she raised her hips against his mouth, her need for release impelling "Hush, Sherlock. Don't stop…keep on".

He smiled against her inner thigh "Are you sure? Minutes ago you told me to stop" and kissed her tattoo, "I never thought you were the tattoo type" he touched it lightly making her shiver, "I find it…intriguing" he looked up at her, "Drawn in this particular area…" she saw him lift up on his crossed arms, "Tell me, Molly, did you want me to see it?" a naughty smile on his face.

"Oh, God!" Molly exclaimed stunned Sherlock had chosen that moment to have a chat. She tugged his hair and cupped Sherlock's jaw bringing his face close to hers then settled an open hand on his throat tightening lightly to get his attention, "You talk too much!" she stated and staring deeply into his eyes with a sudden move made him roll over and lie down on his back, straddling his lap.

Sherlock put his hands on her hips and sat and moved to push himself in a sitting position. Molly took him in his hand, stroking gently. He hissed, straightening his back and tightened his grip on her hips.

"Condom?" she asked and he pointed his eyes to the bedside table. She reached out with her free hand but he grabbed her wrist and brought her hand to his chest, "Wait, Molly". She froze feeling the accelerated beating of his heart under her hand, he took her other hand and brought it to his mouth to kiss her palm.

Sherlock sighed looking her straight in the eye, placed a hand on the small of her back bringing her closer to him so her breasts touched his chest and his hard-on pressed against her core, "I…I missed you" his other hand cupped her cheek, "I really missed you" his voice hoarse and quivering.

Was his huskiness revealing emotion, feeling? She narrowed her eyes on him. His features were soft and his expression sincere and vulnerable. Yet she couldn't help but thinking of how many times he had enchanted her with his words. And now, what was he trying to tell her?

Suddenly Molly was seized with anger. Obvious! Sherlock was looking for the right words to make it clear they were engaging in a one-off, without hurting her. He was looking for her consent, he wanted to be sure it was clear to her that after that night, they would be the same as always, just friends. She didn't want to hear his arguments. Her decision had been made. She also needed that night with him, and from tomorrow…it would all be over.

"Stop talking" Molly said and before he could say anything, she placed her hand firmly on his nape and her tongue, parting his lips, slipped into his mouth. After a few seconds of hesitation, Sherlock returned her kiss with equal enthusiasm, crashing her body on his and sliding his hand into her centre.

Molly clung to him, kissing every inch of his face, as he worked her with his thumb. When she felt the urge to move her hips in search of more friction, then reached onto the night table and opened the drawer feeling around until her fingers closed on a foil.

He went to take the condom from her but she held it out of his reach, "I don't think I'm ready yet" he said nibbling her ear and then kissing the black mark under it left previously, "I'll handle that" she said cupping his cheeks with her hands and staring into his smouldering eyes. Molly boldly captured his lips and demanded to enter his mouth with her tongue and Sherlock let her dominate the kiss, enchanted by her assertiveness.

A hoarse moan escaped him as she passionately sucked his tongue and after giving him a mischievous smile, Molly went down on him. When Sherlock moaned her name, she rip open the foil and rolled the condom on him. Gently she positioned him at her wet entrance and he pushed into her.

Molly closed her eyes starting slowly rocking forward and backward. Sherlock hid his face in the hollow of her neck, in her hair, alternating kisses and nibbling on her shoulder. Molly's ride pace was slow and Sherlock tugged lightly her hair to throw her head back and be able to kiss her neck.

As he watched her, enchanted by her expression of pure bliss, he felt an intense sensation of wholeness. Without realizing it he began to whisper her name like a chant, his breath becoming harsher "Don't leave me anymore" he begged, leaving devastating kisses on her jugular, "I need you" he pulled her hips down to meet his upward thrusts, "I want you. All of you".

What did he mean? Why was he looking at her as if she was his whole world? Sherlock's words upset her so much she sped up her pace, helplessly lost. He cupped his hands on her jaw making her to look at him "It was always you and me, Molly", the fingers of his right hand slid over her tattoo "You always knew" he gasped.

"Stupid me" his mouth was on hers, swallowing her moans and holding her close. Molly searched his face for any sign of a lie but saw only vulnerability in his eyes and emotion in his voice. But what she saw could not be true. "Molly, slow down" he softly murmured as she lost her rhythm, "Please, Sherlock, stop talking" her words were muffled by her erratic breathing.

Suddenly, Sherlock rolled over laying Molly on her back and braced his arms on the mattress "I want to see you" he said leaning forward to kiss her slowly and fully as kept their pace. It didn't took long for her to come undone with a low cry of his name and Sherlock followed her just a few more thrusts.

He got up to dispose of the condom and then returned to her who, in the meantime, had curled up on herself with her back to him. He covered both of them, looped an arm on her waist and pulled her towards him in the middle of the bed. Without saying a word Sherlock tangled his legs with Molly's, pushed her hair back and covered her neck and shoulder with many little kisses until they both fell asleep.

Chapter 11

Sherlock woke up in an empty bed. Rubbing his eyes he looked at the watch he still had on his wrist. Half past seven in the morning. He sighed thinking he had slept for five and a half hours straight. Sherlock pulled himself up on his elbows and listened intently. No noise, no sound in the flat. Where was Molly?

As soon as he got to the chair where his pyjama bottoms and t-shirt were resting, he noticed that her clothes were no longer on the floor. He put on the two garments and opened the room's door. Molly's coat and bag weren't even on the corridor's floor.

A strange sense of emptiness pervaded him as he cautiously checked to see if she was in the bathroom. Sherlock shuffled into the kitchen and then into the main room. Molly was gone, she had slipped away in the middle of the night. Without a word, without a note.

He took his phone from the inside pocket of his jacket hanging from the back of a chair and his fingers quickly wrote a text

WHERE ARE YOU? SOMETHING WRONG? - SH

He waited a few minutes and then went to take a shower and get dressed. When he returned to the main room his phone issued a text alert. Anxious Sherlock took it in his hand but left it irritably on the desk as soon as he saw that it was from Mycroft which reminded him of lunch with their parents.

He sat down at the kitchen table where Mrs Hudson had left a tray with tea and biscuits. After half an hour still no answer. Maybe she was sleeping. Sherlock got up and picked up his violin starting scraping the bow on the strings. Mrs Hudson went up to collect the tray and asked him if there was anything wrong seeing the discordant sounds coming out from his instrument. He glared at her and she went back downstairs without a word.

WHY DID YOU LEAVE? MOLLY PLEASE CALL ME OR TEXT ME – SH

A minute later he heard the chirp of a text alarm

WHAT DO YOU WANT, SHERLOCK? - MH

I HAVE TO SEE YOU, MOLLY. WE NEED TO TALK – SH

NO. THERE IS NOTHING TO TALK ABOUT – MH

I BELIEVE WE SHOULD TALK ABOUT TONIGHT – SH

TONIGHT DIDN'T MEAN NOTHING, SHERLOCK – MH

He stared at the screen for a few minutes in shock. Didn't it mean nothing? Molly was lying. Why?

I'M ON MY WAY – SH

I'M NOT IN. GOT A LUNCH DATE. THINK YOU ALSO GOT ONE – MH

Lunch at Mycroft! The announcement to be made! Sherlock had to hurry, had to get to his brother's house and talk to Molly before it was too late. He put on his jacket and Belstaff, grabbed his scarf and wrapped it around his neck as he rushed down the stairs. It was Sunday morning and finding a cab running around the semi-empty streets of London was not easy.

When Philip, his brother's hired help, accompanied him to the living room, Sherlock stood in the doorway, drinking in every detail. His parents were sitting on the sofa, Mycroft was standing by the large fireplace and Molly was beside him. She wore simple black trousers and a white blouse, her hair was tied up but some was free to frame her face.

"Oh, Sherlock, finally!" exclaimed his mother rising to her feet, imitated by his father. It was not his habit to be hugged and kissed by his parents, especially in front of other people, but after Sherrinford many things had changed. As soon as he was freed from his parents' displays of affection, Sherlock turned to his brother waving his head and then looked Molly straight in the eye.

"Well" said Mrs Holmes, "Mycroft, I think it's time to tell why you invited us today" she added taking a few steps towards her son, "Yes, sure. I think you'd better sit down" he replied giving a quick glance at Molly before walking over to the chair next to the sofa.

Everyone sat down except Molly and Sherlock. He didn't take his eyes off her as she slowly moved to the chair where Mycroft was sitting "I called you here because Molly and I have to tell you something" he said looking up at her and taking her hand. Sherlock's gaze on their joined hands was fiery.

"First of all I wanted to tell her something", Mycroft smiled "You are a wonderful woman. Strong, self-willed but also sweet and patient" he stopped to put his lips on the back of her hand, "I'm lucky to have you by my side in the last few months and…", Sherlock's powerful baritone voice interrupted him "Did you tell him?" his eyes lock to hers.

He had taken two steps forward and was now exactly in front of Molly, "Sherlock, please. Mycroft has something important to tell" she said raising her head and holding his gaze, "Molly, did you tell him?" he insisted repeating his question.

She barely swallowed and warned him in a low voice "Sherlock, don't dare". He turned to look at his brother "Did your fiancé tell you that we made love last night?" he heard his parents make sounds of surprise behind him and saw Molly's eyes fill with tears and anger, "William Sherlock Scott Holmes you have no rights…" she freed her hand from Mycroft's and raised it to slap him.

Unlike in the past, Sherlock grabbed her hand in mid-air "I won't repeat the mistake I made when you were engaged to Tom. Not this time, Molly. I won't let you officially get engaged to my brother" he said firmly, his face a few inches from hers "Sherlock, you don't know what you're talking about" Mycroft broke in seraphic, looking up at his younger brother with a broad smile.

Sherlock watched him in amazement at his attitude, "Oh, I know perfectly well what I'm talking about, brother mine!" he hissed letting go of Molly's hand, "I saw you two" he stated putting his hands in his trousers' pockets and taking two steps back.

Mycroft's smile widened even more as he crossed his legs and intertwining the fingers of his hands, resting them on his lap "You saw us! See what exactly?" he asked him. Sherlock turned his eyes to Molly who was drying some tears "At the airport. I was hiding in the crowd and saw you were in each other's arms" he sighed briefly, "I missed you and wanted to see you as soon as possible" he spoke to her if no one else was present.

"And then here, in this house", she sniffed and lowered her head as Mycroft said "You misunderstood, Sherlock". He shook his head and laughed bitterly "Did I also misunderstand what I saw at the Diogenes from the secret room?", livid Sherlock held his brother's gaze "Who is in charge Mr Holmes? You, mistress" he hissed repeating what he heard.

Mycroft widened his eyes and suddenly burst into a big laugh "You may not have thought that Molly and I entertained in bdsm's encounters!". More sounds of surprise from Mr and Mrs Holmes, and a muffled "What?" from Molly swinging her gaze between the two brothers, "Did you spy on us?" she asked shocked, covering her red cheeks with her hands.

"What else could I do?" Sherlock replied, "I can no longer deduce you!" he exclaimed spreading his arms in defeat. "This is all very funny, Sherlock" said Mycroft who was struggling to stop laughing, "Where's the fun?" Molly asked angrily, "Forgive me, my dear" murmured Mycroft, composing himself "But my little brother is so blinded by jealousy that he doesn't see the real facts".

Sherlock crossed his arms over his chest and rolled his eyes, "And what are the real facts? Let's hear" he said encouraging his brother with his hand to give an explanation. Mycroft sighed deeply and took Molly's hand in his again "The real facts are that after fixing things with Euros, I was diagnosed with a form of leukaemia" he held up a hand to interrupt his parents' words of protest.

"I learned that an experimental cure was being developed at John Hopkins in Baltimore. I called Molly" Mycroft paused for a moment tilting his head, "You trusted her five years ago for your fake suicide. I thought I could trust her too to handle this situation" he cleared his throat, "I stated my problem to her and asked if she was willing to help me deal with this. Thank God, she said yes" he smiled softly at her.

"She needed to get away from here for a while" his eyes still on his brother "I organized her departure so that she could work in their Pathology Department and at the same time oversee my response to treatment. The first six injections I had to do in Baltimore. Every two weeks I flew to the United States. When Molly called me a week ago to tell me the results of the tests were good and I could have both the last two injections, which were no longer twice weekly but daily, and the follow up tests here, we decided it was time for her to go back to London too".

Mycroft sat better in the chair looking at his parents, "Molly spoke to the referral physician in Baltimore last night, who said the leukaemia is receding", Mr and Mrs Holmes let out a sigh of relief as Mycroft stood up facing Sherlock.

"Molly and I have never been engaged. We don't have a love affair" he told him, "At the airport you saw us hugging because I felt weak" amused he raised his eyebrow "And I may have emphasized the hug because I knew you were in the crowd".

"I don't know what you see here at home, but there was nothing. And if you think we had an intercourse at Diogenes, then you must have left before you see Molly giving me the injection", Mycroft put his hands in his pockets giggling "And if you're referring to the language we used" he said before his brother could speak "I'm terrified of needle, unlike you, so we invented this 'mistress and submissive' game to soothe my anxiety".

Sherlock looked from Mycroft to Molly who hadn't move "Why then did you ask Mum to bring you Grandma's ring?", Mycroft took a few steps back smiling at his mother then turned his gaze back to Sherlock, "For Lady Smallwood" he looked at Molly asking "Is Alicia coming?", she nodded "She should be here in half an hour". Mycroft looked back at his younger brother "I couldn't propose to her until I was sure I was on the mend" he explained.

"I know you're in love with Molly" he continued, "You always been" he smiled at Sherlock and then turned to Molly, "I told her too. But she doesn't believe me", he walked over to her saying "But I guess what happened tonight changes things, right?".

"No" stated Molly blushing again, "No?" the two brothers asked in unison looking at her, "No" she confirmed firmly crossing her arms, "Molly" again the Holmes brothers in unison. "Stop it, you two!" chimed in Mrs Holmes rising and placing herself between her sons and Molly, "Mickey, you stay out of it!" she warned pointing her index finger at him, "This is about Sherlock and Molly…can I call you Molly, right my dear?" she nodded clasping her hands in front of her.

The woman looked at them both with her piercing blue eyes, then turned to her son "Are you in love with her?" she asked curtly, "Mum! Please!" Sherlock exclaimed rolling his eyes. A smile escaped Molly as she saw his reaction in front of his mother, "I take it for a yes" said Mrs Holmes hastily and then turned to her, "And you, my dear, are you in love with my son?". She couldn't believe she was standing in front of Sherlock's mother and talking to her about her feelings for him!

"Mrs Holmes" began to say Molly swallowing embarrassed, "Oh, my darling! I know very well he is an unbearable arrogant" the woman interrupted with a short laugh, "I also know you have always been by Sherlock's side" she took Molly's hands in hers, "And you never abandoned him" Mrs Holmes stopped to look her in the eyes, "So yes, I think you really love him".

Molly glanced over Mrs Holmes' shoulders and saw Sherlock was watching her intently. She opened her mouth to answer but Mrs Holmes squeezed her hands tightly "Listen, you two" she said to both of them, "It's hard to find love nowadays. Finding someone who loves you anyway. And above all that keeps on loving you, even seeing your worst. The part of yourself that scares you" she took a quick and knowing look at her son, "So please, talk to each other and don't throw away what you feel for each other".

Mrs Holmes gave Molly a warm smile and bent down to whisper in her ear, "My dear, whatever doubts you have, let your heart guide you. And rest assured he loves you". She straightened up, "Well, I'd say that the three of us better go to the dining room for lunch" she said pointing to her husband and Mycroft, "While you two" she turned to Sherlock "Go away from here and have a long chat or whatever else you need to understand that you truly love each other" Mrs Holmes said with a wink at both of them.

Molly and Sherlock looked at each other, both blushing. Mr Holmes approached Molly and taking her by surprise, hugged her tenderly "Thank you dear, for taking care of both of my sons" he said and her eyes watered moved by his gesture. "Come on, husband, you make her cry!" she scolded him good-naturedly, "Mycroft, come on! Let's go to the other room!" she said pushing her husband and her eldest son towards the door.

Molly followed the trio with her eyes then biting her lower lip, looked up at Sherlock "If you still want to talk, we can go to my flat", he ventured a few steps in her direction "Why not Baker Street?" a corner of his mouth in a smirk, "Because if I don't like what you have to say, I can throw you out" she replied with a shrug.

His smile widened as he clasped his hands at the small of her back and tugged her close to him. Her heart beat rapidly and as her eyes met his, thousands crazed butterflies seemed to fly into her stomach.

Sherlock bowed his head, his mouth close to hers, but Molly put a hand on his lips "Permission not granted" she whispered trying to control her breathing, "Okay, it seems right to me" he whispered back moving his mouth to her ear, "Let's go to your flat and talk" he stated, "But let's hurry up because I'm dying to make you mine and to be yours" his voice was low and husky and when Sherlock nibbled her lobe, Molly moaned as she tightened his jacket's collar.

As Sherlock frantically put on his coat and scarf, Molly did the same taking her time. She had promised Mrs Holmes she would talk to him, and as much Molly was attracted to him at that moment and wanted him, talking was what she intended to do.

Philip announced that the car was ready and at their disposal. Sherlock took her hand and dragged her out of the house and impatiently pushed her into the car. He gave the driver Molly's address asked him to raise the darkened partition glass.

Chapter 12

Once safe from prying eyes and ears, he turned to her and said "My mother and my brother are right", "About what?" she asked pretending not to understand what he meant, "I…I love you, Molly" he whispered barely stammering. She would have liked to believe him unconditionally with all of herself, but Sherlock's behaviour towards her was comparable to a roller coaster and this time Molly didn't have the strength to face a swoop.

She scanned his face for something to reveal he was sincere. His changing eyes glowed with a particular light she had rarely seen in him, his lips were slightly parted, his hand cupped her cheek and his thumb caressed the shell of her ear, "Molly" her name softly murmured as he leaned toward her, narrowing his eyes "Am I granted permission now?".

She put her hand on his wrist and pulled back shaking her head in denial, finding hard to resist the thought of his mouth on hers. "You are not going to make it easy for me, are you?" he said with a sketchy smile, "Why should I?" she moved away from him a few inches crossing her arms across her chest, "You can't just tell me 'I love you' and think I believe you because you are Sherlock Holmes and I have always trusted you".

Molly clenched her jaw, "You have established we can only be friends. It was you who said, five months ago, you didn't feel and couldn't feel anything but friendship for me. Am I wrong?", he shook his head looking down, "So you lied to me" she stated simply looking out the window. She took a deep breath and looked back at him "I am a little confused…Did you lie to me five months ago or are you doing it now?".

Sherlock swallowed the lump in his throat as he looked up at Molly, bashfully tugging some hair behind her ear "I never lied to you, Molly" he said in a quivering voice, "What I told you after Sherrinford was what I believe to be the truth" he continued to play with her hair.

"I was a coward, I know. I was so terrified of losing you that I chose to impose my terms on you to make sure you stay in my life" he took her hand and kissed the tip of each of her single fingers, "I didn't pause for even a moment to think about the emotions that rained down on me that day. I was too scared of them, so I focused on the rest", Sherlock brought her hand to his cheek, leaning into it.

"I had to help Mycroft manage my parents who were convinced Euros was dead. Euros herself had to be 'fixed' in the best possible way. The remains of my friend Victor had to be recovered and returned to his family. My flat needed to be refurbished. All things that required me to be the usual me, cold and clear headed" he placed a tender kiss on the inside of her wrist.

"Are you telling me that after you fixed everything you needed to fix, something changed?" Molly asked running her thumb along his lower lip. Sherlock nodded and gave her a look so intense, it took her breath away "You left" he murmured without taking his eyes off her, "You have no idea what these months without you have been like" he added nibbling gently her thumb's fingertip.

Molly let out a long sigh "Then tell me, Sherlock" she murmured as she cupped his jaw and rested her forehead against his "Tell me how you felt" she closed her eyes and the smell of his aftershave spread into her nostrils.

The car stopped and the driver knocking on the glass warned them that they had arrived, "We can't end this conversation here" Molly gave him a peck on his cheek and added "Let's go up to my flat", she smiled at him and then opened the door. She got out of the car and walked towards the building's door. After taking a few steps she realized Sherlock was not behind her and so turned away. She saw him standing on the kerb with one hand in the inside pocket of his Belstaff and the other on the open car's door.

"Alone" Sherlock said pulling out a pack of cigarettes and lighting one, "What?" she asked retracing her steps until standing in front of him, "I felt alone" he repeated blowing out a long plume of smoke, "I missed you. Your smile, your dimples. Our long silences, our laughter, our water battles. I didn't think it was possible, Molly, but without you, my life in those three months seemed empty", she placed her fingers on his taking hold of the cigarette and took a drag.

Sherlock watched in surprise as she inhaled deeply and then blew out the smoke but said nothing about it picking up the line of his discussion "I needed you. The way you hold my hand when we happen to fall asleep together or your look when I act like a complete ass" he walked away from the car closing the door, "In recent months I have slept in your bed several times just to sense your smell" he said as the car drove away, "And you were always with me. In my dreams, in my mind palace" he took back his worn out cigarette and threw it away.

Molly met his gaze and her heart stopped. Sherlock was looking at her exactly as he had looked at her the night he went to ask her to help him 'not to die'. It had been the night her crush turned into love because the man hiding under the cold detective had shown himself to her, with his weaknesses and fears. It had been 'their' night, in which both of them had been fully themselves and in which she had felt Sherlock valued her as a very special person.

She saw a mixture of emotions in his blue-green eyes, "Maybe nothing I've said can persuade you that I truly love you" he said with a sigh, "Too many times I told you everything and its opposite. Too many times I have kept you on the edge of my life for fear you would be hurt for your bond to me" his gaze showed how sincere and vulnerable he was and Mrs Holmes' words echoed in Molly's head "Let your heart guide you" so, suddenly, Molly knew what she had to do.

She took a step forward and grabbed his coat's collar with both her hands. Sherlock tensed for a moment taken aback by her gesture and gave her a questioning look, "Well then, you'll have to do more than just tell me I love you" she looked first at his eyes then at his lips, "Permission granted" she said drawing him towards her, "What?" he asked, a corner of his mouth folded into a smile, "I told you 'permission granted'" she replied tugging him again, "Do you kiss me now or are you going to discuss why I changed my mind?".

Sherlock raised an eyebrow as if he was thinking about it. She rolled her eyes and suddenly pressed her mouth to his, seizing his lower lip. His arms were immediately around her waist flushing her body with his. When the tip of her tongue slipped between his parted lips, Sherlock let out a groan.

They separated only when it was necessary to breath "Do you realize we are making out in the middle of the street like two secondary-school students?" he asked smiling happily and leaning his forehead against hers, "I never made out in the street when I was in secondary-school!" she giggled wrapping her arms around his neck and asked "Shall we go up?", he nodded and leaned over to kiss her again.

Holding hands they reached the building's door that Sherlock opened with his own key. Molly called the lift and once inside he stepped behind her and put his arms around her waist, moving her hair with his nose he started to pepper her neck with kisses.

"Is Mycroft really healing?" he asked holding her tight to him, she nodded back too engrossed in his kisses to speak. The lift stopped at the her flat's floor with a slight jolt. Sherlock chivalrously held the door open for her and hand in hand they walked to her flat down the hall.

"Did you really think your brother and I were having an affair?" Molly asked him crossing the threshold, "I told you I can hardly deduce you" he replied closing the door behind them, "What was I supposed to think seeing you so intimate? Not to mention your language!".

Molly put her coat and bag on the sofa then turned to look at him with a sly smile "Is that how you imagine me in your mind palace? As a dominatrix?" she asked as he hung his Belstaff on the rack, "Not at all" Sherlock looked at her intrigued by how slowly she was approaching him with an amused and seductive smile on her lips.

"How am I then in your mind palace?" she leaned her bum against the back of the sofa and peered at him, "You are yourself. It is our relationship that is different" he confided in a whisper cupping her jaw with his hands, "And what kind of relationship do we have?" she asked undoing his jacket's button.

"Well, we're co-workers and…" while he was talking she threw him a quick glance and started undoing the buttons of his shirt, "Friends, of course" he added swallowing and following her hands with his eyes, "Partners" he carried on tangling his hands in her hair, "Lovers" he punctuate that word, leaning his head slightly towards her.

Molly's eyes snapped quickly to meet his, her hands motionless on the bare skin of his torso, "Lovers? Really?" her voice's tone showed surprise, Sherlock hummed in approval gently massaging her scalp, "You are surprised" he said with a childish grin. She shrugged "Well, I didn't think you thought of me that way" she answered as her hands started brushing on his chest causing an intake of breath from him.

"Well, it all started a week after you left. Remember the first time we saw each other on Skype?" as he spoke he tugged at the front of her blouse fumbling with the buttons until her breast was exposed to him, "That evening I lingered in my mind palace and found myself in your flat, and that was the first time we made…" he broke off, giving her an implicit look, "And where did we make…?" she asked blushing.

Sherlock smiled and nodded to the front door, "Oh!" she whispered feeling her cheeks burn, "I told myself over and over that it wasn't real, that it couldn't be what I wanted" he admitted with a sigh, "But I found myself thinking of you in my arms, naked or not, more and more often, until I had to admit that yes, I wanted you. I want you, Molly, in my bed as well as in my life because only with you next to me I feel complete".

She had remained silent aware that for Sherlock to confess his feelings had not been easy, "A penny for your thoughts" she heard him to say her as his right hand slipped under her blouse and tentatively unclasped her bra, "I love you, Sherlock" a broad smile lit up his face "I know" he whispered softly, "Three days ago I thought you gave up on me, but then yesterday night I saw your tattoo…" his beautiful eyes, bright and moved, rested on her lips for a few moments before bringing their lips together in a sensual kiss.

Molly threw back her head and Sherlock took advantage to kiss her neck "When did you do it?" he asked sliding the blouse off her shoulders and doing the same with her bra, "When you were operated on the second time after Mary shot you" she replied by taking off his shirt and undoing the button and zip of his trousers.

Sherlock cupped her jaw with his hands and looking deeply into her honey-coloured eyes asked her if she was sure she would share her life with him "You know I have a lot of enemies and my cases aren't always straightforward…", "Hush!" Molly interrupted placing her index finger on his lips, "Nothing scares me if you are with me. And, if anything ever happens to me, I know you will do everything to protect and save me" she whispered as she looped her arms around his neck capturing his lips in a kiss full of love and arousal.

"I'm more worried about not being able to live up to the Molly of your mind palace" she said with a cheeky smile sliding a finger along Sherlock's torso until it stops at the waist of his trousers, "Don't be. Tonight you proved to me that you are even better" his voice's tone was now low and hoarse, "Let's go to your bedroom" he suggested ghosting his fingers on her rib cage.

"Why not here? Why don't we test the door?" Molly asked in a quivering voice in response to his shivering touch, he shook his head biting his lower lip "I don't want to have sex with you, not today at least. Today I want to make love to you" and so saying he lifted her off the floor and walked towards the bedroom. On instinct she interlaced her legs around his waist and smiling happily she hid her face in the hollow of his neck.

And he really made love to her. Gently, slowly and passionately as their pace increased as their pleasure grow. This time they came together, a perfect whole of body and soul. Sherlock's head rested above Molly's breasts as his index finger brushed her tattoo "I like it" he said looking up as she lazily ran her hand through his dark curls. He slid his body over hers and whispered "The two of us linked together forever". Molly smiled at him wrapping her arms around his shoulders "Do you know who else told me you were in love with me?", he shook his head frowning "Rosie", "Rosie?" he repeated surprised.

Molly stroked his face "The other night, when I took her to sleep after dinner", she raised herself slightly to fire him a loud kiss "Rosie told me her dad said uncle Sherl loved auntie Molly", his cheeks flushed "She heard me and John talking before you arrived" he stated as he repeatedly ran his hand through her hair.

"I didn't think she had picked up on the conversation! She's really her mother's daughter!", Molly nodded and frowned a little at Mary's memory "Mary also always told me that you, without realizing it, loved me", Sherlock brushed some hair from her forehead and sincerely looked into her eyes "I love you".

The look she gave him was pure bliss and he felt just as happy to finally have her in his arms. Now together they would face all the challenges that would be presented to them. "Kiss me, my love" she ordered, "As commanded, my love!" he replied pressing his mouth against hers.

The game was on and he was on fire!