Hey guys, thanks for being so patient and I'm sorry I made you wait. And thank you as well for the reactions to the previous chapter – I'm so glad you all enjoyed it.

Chapter 16

A day later and the news channels were reporting the explosion, and the sad news that one person, still unnamed, had been killed. It would be enough. Sherlock knew that David would have seen that John was the only person affected by the blast, and it wasn't uncommon for people to succumb to unknown internal injuries, even though they'd been walking around for a short while after an accident.

Greg had also arranged a safe house for John to stay in, and his sister and Rosie had travelled up to stay with him.

Sherlock, Greg and John had discussed and planned out different iterations of what might happen. When Harry and Rosie arrived just after six that evening the group broke up and John asked Sherlock if he could call round at Baker St the next day, so long as he disguised himself and came in through Mrs Hudson's flat. After a few moments thought, Sherlock agreed.

'Shouldn't be an issue. If he is watching my place it will only be the main entrance, we'd notice if he tried anything at the back. Just stay away from the windows.'

As Sherlock made his way back to Baker St, he found himself hoping that Molly would still be there; he rather suspected she wouldn't. A quick text confirmed his conclusion, but he didn't hesitate to agree when she asked if she should come over. He needed to talk to her about moving in for the next couple of days, he wanted her close. Better that she was targeted alongside him, than for David to decide to target her alone…and maybe that meant it was time to tell John about his relationship.

He hated to keep things from his best friend nowadays, not least because he had a tedious tendency to bring up the whole fake death thing. Maybe tomorrow would be the right time…he couldn't wait to see his face though, it would almost be worth recording.

Sherlock chuckled to himself in the back of the cab as he added a text telling Molly to bring enough clothes for a couple of days.

MHMHMHMHMHMHMHMHMHMH

Molly was still at work when Sherlock's texts came through and she smiled happily to herself. It was almost her last day at work and three days until Christmas and now Sherlock, for whatever reason, wanted her to come and stay with him, possibly up to and including the day itself…it really was Christmas!

She knew the reason he was asking was probably connected to the case, but she really didn't care. She was still in those early days of a new relationship where all she wanted was to spend time with him, and given she'd never actually expected to ever be in this situation with Sherlock, she was just happy to go with it and enjoy the feeling.

Things at work were quiet, and Mike was in a festive, generous mood himself, so she ended up being able to leave work at seven in the evening rather than nine. It meant she was able to get to Baker St just after eight, with enough clothes to last her until Christmas. Toby was happily ensconced in her neighbour, Mrs Dashwood's flat, where he usually spent any holidays anyway, and so Molly was free to enjoy herself.

It was Mrs Hudson who let her in, with a wink and a knowing smile, both of which had Molly blushing all over again. She had Molly promising to join her in her flat for a quick drink and a mince pie at some point during her stay, then she left her to make her way upstairs.

As she did she could hear Sherlock playing his violin. She loved hearing him play, even though it had been a rare occurrence in the past. In fact, she could count the number of times on one hand. She still remembered watching him, as he'd played the music for John and Mary's first dance at their wedding. She had simply been enchanted by it. So much so, that she had almost completely forgotten about Tom, until he'd angrily nudged her and asked her whether she was actually going to watch the happy couple, rather than the best man. She'd like to say that that was the beginning of the end of their relationship, but if she was honest the beginning happened the moment Sherlock returned from the dead. Poor Tom.

As she made her way into his flat he turned and smiled, and as the music morphed into "We wish you a Merry Christmas" she grinned back at him in return.

She dumped her bag on the coffee table, and when she wandered into the kitchen she was happy to see a bottle of red wine, open, and airing on the kitchen side along with two glasses. She quickly poured two more than healthy servings, and then carried both glasses back into the front room. She placed Sherlock's glass by his chair, and then curled up in John's chair, sipping on her wine, as she listened to Sherlock still playing. This time the music was something new to her, and she wondered if it was one of his own compositions. It was so beautiful and uplifting that it brought tears to her eyes.

As it drew to a close he smiled, before carefully placing his violin and bow in its case.

'You liked it then.'

'That last piece? Yes, I loved it. I take it, it's one of yours.'

He nodded as he came and joined her, picking up his wine. 'I've been writing it over the last three weeks. You inspire me.'

Her eyes widened. 'Me?'

At that he chuckled. 'Yes you. Why is that so shocking? I've embarked on a new phase in my life, starting a romantic relationship with a woman I…like, surely it's no surprise that it's inspired me to compose.'

'Well, I love it Sherlock. I've always loved hearing you play.'

He inclined his head and took another sip of his wine.

She asked him about the case then, and he filled her in on all the details of his plan. The fact that John was still alive and happily pretending to be dead; that they'd found the flat that David had been using to spy on John, and finally his plan to use himself as bait. It was that last part which had Molly frowning and sitting up.

'What? He's coming after you now?'

'Well, that is the logical conclusion. He's killed Clara, made an attempt on your life, and now he thinks he's killed John. I don't want him coming for you, at least, not on your own. Logic dictates that I am the final victim. Nothing will happen tonight though.'

He took a sip of his drink and then continued. 'I rather suspect he'll use the same tactics as he did with Clara, and we will probably receive last minute tickets to some event. I'm even predicting it will be the Drury Lane, Theatre Royal's current production of Algonah given one of it's songs is Smart, Little Drummer Boy.'

He looked at her expectantly, but when she shook her head looking slightly confused, he rolled his eyes and continued.

'Drummer boy, twelve drummers drumming, a reference to the song.'

'Oh, OK. And will we get to go on this free night out?'

At that he smiled. 'We will. He'll probably have someone he knows checking that we're there so he knows he's free to break in here. Lestrade and his men will be waiting for him.'

'So, nothing else for us to do until then?'

At that he smirked. 'Well, I wouldn't say nothing…'

At the look on his face, Molly felt a warmth spreading through her body, a fire of desire starting to be lit.

She returned his smile and took another sip of the wine, it really was delicious and she suspected, rather expensive.

'What did you have in mind for us then?'

'Well, I rather thought it was what you had in mind for me.'

At that she frowned, feeling bemused again.

He put his glass down and leant towards her and she could see how dilated his eyes were as they caught and held her own.

'The handcuffs Molly…in the bedroom…'

At that she let out a gasp of shock, and her hand shot up to cover part of her face, knowing she was blushing.

'Oh…that was Mrs Hudson. She said they were yours, and she was just returning them.'

'And yet you didn't move them out of sight Molly. Which meant you wanted me to see them, which means you were considering using them. So, just one question; do you want me to use them on you or you to use them on me?'

Molly knew her face must be flaming by now. She doubted she'd ever blushed so much in her life but she made a point of holding his gaze.

'I want to use them on you.'

She saw his eyes narrow almost imperceptibly, and for a moment she wondered if he'd say no, but then he nodded his head and stood, holding out his hand to her.

'No time like the present then Molly. Shall we…?'

She took a deep draft of her wine for Dutch courage, and then she put her hand in his and let him pull her to her feet.

She really wasn't sure how to feel about the turn of events. That image she'd had of Sherlock handcuffed and naked on the bed had just been a fleeting fantasy. Was she really ready to make it a reality? Was he? He'd only lost his virginity a few hours ago, and now she was going to go a bit BDSM on him…

'Stop it!'

He spoke as he opened his bedroom door, and it shocked her, pulling her from her inner monologue.

'Sorry, stop what?'

He turned to her as he pushed the door shut behind them, pulling her closer so her spare hand landed on his chest.

'Stop worrying Molly, if I didn't want to do this I'd say. Instead I'm rather intrigued. I've only ever been handcuffed for miserable and/or painful reasons in the past. I'd quite like to temper those memories with some…umm…' he raised an eyebrow and smirked again. '…more compelling memories.'

At that he closed the distance between them and kissed her, and most of Molly's fears and nerves fell away as his mouth moved with her own. This was them, together, and strangely they just worked. When she was with him like this she felt a confidence that she hadn't ever felt before. She'd always wondered if he'd make her nervous or uncertain, but he didn't, he managed, wordlessly, implicitly, to empower her. Being wanted by him, sexually, romantically, was better than she would ever have imagined.

She let her tongue push into his mouth, sliding against his, tasting him and she moaned. As she did she felt his hands tighten on her waist, pulling her against his burgeoning erection. At the same time, they seemed to move away pulling and tugging at each other's clothes until finally they were both completely naked.

Molly kissed him once more, feeling his hands slide down over her backside.

'God, Molly, I was a naive fool. I had no idea how good this could be. I feel like I could spend days, weeks, months in your arms and never tire of it.'

Her lips crooked up into a smile, as his tongue left a trail of wetness down her throat, and she let her hands thread into his hair.

'Good, I'm glad, because I could spend years doing this.'

They kissed again and then Molly pushed lightly on his chest.

He broke away and looked at her quizzically.

'On the bed Mr Holmes. I have plans for you.'

Oh ho, do we think those plans will include Sherlock getting red marks on his wrist that may or may not be spotted by his friend? Never again will I write a start to a story that has to play out later on because it was not easy bringing that about. Anyway, are you looking forward to the next chapter? xxx