Summary:

Sherlock meets up with Molly, who is back at work. He goes to lunch with her and they discuss where they stand in terms of having a real relationship.

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Sherlock saunters into the morgue as Molly is working on a body. He waits until she has placed the saw down on the table and then hugs her from behind. She jumps a bit and looks up at him.

"Sherlock! I'm working."

"Yes, precisely why I waited until you were no longer holding a saw to surprise you. I don't need to lose a limb."

Molly scoffs but gently leans back on him. "We still haven't finished our conversation from the other night", she muses.

"I know. But as long as your nausea is under control, and you've probably been standing for a while, would you like to grab lunch?"

"Sherlock, I'm in the middle of an autopsy."

He glances down at the open corpse on the table and scrunches his nose. "Right, yes. Well, how about I wait in your office for you to finish?"

"That would be fine, but don't fiddle with all my things."

He pouts. "That's what I do Molly, I fiddle. I'm not a patient man, so do with that what you will", he smirks and goes into her office, closing the door.

Rolling her eyes, she works on the man until the autopsy is finished. She washes her hands and cleans up before going into her office to meet Sherlock.

He has his legs up on her desk and is fiddling with her Rubik's Cube (which ironically, she had added to her desk trinkets, knowing he likes to fiddle when he's bored).

"Woah, firstly, legs off my desk, Mister.", she gently pushes them off. "Secondly, put my cube back and get up. I need to take my lab coat off."

He raises an eyebrow in surprise, but does as she says, quietly enjoying when she's a bit demanding, she could be so more often, and he'd be thrilled.

"What?"

"Nothing."

"Sherlock, you're giving me a look."

"This is my face."

"No, it's your face when you're giving me a knowing look without me knowing what it is I should know. Out with it."

Sherlock smiles softly and shrugs. "I like when you're a bit more demanding. Of your space, and yourself. It's refreshing to see that side of you."

Molly chuckles a bit. "The more this baby grows the shorter my fuse will be, so you'll be getting plenty of it and wishing for my calmness back before you know it."

"I suppose we shall see about that."

"Oh, we will."

Molly slips her lab coat off and drapes it over the back of her office chair, grabbing her wallet. "Well then. Lunch?"

"Lunch", he smiles as she locks up and they walk to the elevator.

Once in the elevator, Sherlock slips his hand into hers, and she looks up at him a bit surprised.

"What?"

"I thought you despised PDA. I can actually site a few sentences from you explicitly stating how much you despise PDA."

He shrugs and blushes a bit, looking at her. "Yes, but the point is a bit moot. You're obviously pregnant and I'm sure some people have assumed it's mine by how much I stop by now, so hand-holding isn't the most amount of intimacy we have shared."

Molly giggles a bit. "I guess you're right, it's just odd that you want other people to see that..."

"It's a bit nerve-wracking on some level, but I'm not ashamed of you or our child, Molly. You have to know that. I'm not. I told you that I wasn't going anywhere. I want to be around to raise our child, and I want to be around to...", he trails off as they step off the elevator hand in hand, people looking at them funny, or with faces of shock.

Molly can tell he's feeling scrutinized and it's a bit uncomfortable for him, but he keeps his hold, even as his palm gets slightly sweaty. "Sherlock you can let go if you're uncomfortable."

"I'm not going to. I'm making my point. I want to be with you Molly, and I told you once that I hoped you'd be very happy. I meant that. I know you like nice gestures and I'll prove myself to you if it's the last thing I do. I want to be around to be with you. I know even a year ago I wasn't the type of man that this would be possible for. I never would have entertained a relationship. Mere months ago I was still denying it to John. But bit by bit I realized that you are always the person who helps me, completes me, and puts me in my place. Always."

He finally drops her hand as they get in line for food. Molly grabs a grilled cheese, tomato soup, and a bag of crisps. Sherlock follows suit with the same, grabbing them both some flavored water.

As they sit, he looks her in the eyes. "You've always been the person I could go to, even when the entire world had turned against me. Even when I deserved the entire world to turn against me. When I was the worst of the worst of gits. But you didn't. You never turned me away. Got angry? Yes, as you should've. Put me in my place with a verbal or physical slap? Yes, as you should've. But not once did you turn your back on me. Not once, Molly. I can't say the same for the rest of our friends, not even John. Even when my sister forced me to try and demolish your heart, as it did mine to do so, you still let me into your home and allowed me to explain."

Molly tears up, her emotional side taking ahold of her as he speaks, absently playing with his lean fingers as he talks.

"And...Molly, when-...when we fell into bed together it wasn't weird, it wasn't taboo, it wasn't something horrifying. It was simply Sherlock and Molly. It was just making love. It was like a normal progression of our journey, and it made /me/ feel normal. You make me feel like the type of man who could one day deserve the love you've been dishing out to me all these years, even on my worst days. So please, Molly, please...believe me when I say I will prove myself. For both you and our daughter. You both deserve a man who can be what you need me to be, and I will try my best to be all those things for you and for her", he finishes, taking a bite of his grilled cheese, then opening both of their bottles and crisps for her.

Molly stares at him in shock, tears dripping down her cheeks. Sherlock furrows his brow and quickly swallows his bite. "Molly? What did I do wrong? What did I say wrong?", he says quickly, panicking.

She beams and begins to chuckle through a sob. "Nothing, Sherlock. You didn't do anything wrong. Everything you said was perfect. But I don't need /you/ to be perfect. I just need you to want me and her. I need you to keep yourself sober and let me love you as you are. You're not a freak, you're incredible. The way your mind works is amazing, and your heart, I think, has finally caught up as well. I believe you."

Sherlock can feel himself beginning to tear up and he sniffs, blinking them back quickly as Molly squeezes his hand. "I love you, Sherlock Holmes."

Catching her gaze again, he squeezes her hand back. "And I love you, Molly Hooper. I'm not going to waste any more time denying myself you."

"I'm not what most men would call beautiful, I-I know I have many flaws. Personality-wise, and...looks-wise."

"Shhh", he places a finger to her lips. "We are both extraordinarily odd. That's why we fit so well together. I'm okay with being weird. And I love that you are adorably morbid. We are a good match. All those things I had ever said about you in the past were said out of jealousy, because you weren't mine and I couldn't and wouldn't have you because of my mentality back then. You /are/ beautiful Molly. Your looks, your personality, and your mind."

"Thank you, Sherlock. You have no idea how much that means to me to hear that from you and to see in your gorgeous eyes that you mean it. Molly blushes deeply and kisses his hand before starting to eat her lunch hungrily as her stomach growls.

Sherlock chuckles softly. "Alright, now that that conversation is settled, feed our daughter, she's starving, Mumma."

Molly giggles and rubs a hand over her belly. "I've got you covered, baby girl. Gee, you have one protective daddy already."

Sherlock and Molly exchange a giddy look as they eat, both parties relieved to have solidified what their relationship will be going forward.