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Description: Sherlock helps Molly overcome her fear.

"They are not that scary."

"Are you kidding?! One move and they can throw you off, stomp on you, bite you, and kill you!"

He rolled his eyes and moved towards the animal in the paddock. "They are gentle creatures with minds of their own, not mindless murders." He explained, reaching out to pet the stallion.

Molly folded her arms across her chest. Ever since she was a young girl, she had a fear of horses. Leave it to Sherlock to discover her fear and push her to overcome that fear.

It wasn't her fault the horse she rode as a child reared up and threw her off, nearly falling on top of her. She had been damaged by that incident, never going near horses again.

Of course, Sherlock learned of the incident and now here she was…in a stable full of them.

He turned and held out his hand to her. "Come here."

She shook her head. "No thanks, I'll stay back here, where it's safe."

He rolled his eyes once more and stepped towards her. "Molly,"

She struggled against him, but it was pointless. He was taller, bigger, and stubborn. She squealed as he pushed her in front of the paddock he had been standing a few seconds before.

"He won't bite."

She scoffed and felt her hand raise to touch the horse's face. She tried to pull it back, but Sherlock held it firmly in his grasp. "Sherlock…"

He hummed, placing her hand on the horse's face, running it smoothly over the fur.

She caressed the face and watched as the stallion seemed to relax under her touch.

"You see, gentle."

She tilted her head back to look into his eyes and hummed. Her eyes searched his and she smiled.

The horse's neigh snapped her out of her daze and she jumped.

"It's alright. He's just hungry."

"How do you know?" She asked, watching the horse carefully.

Sherlock smiled. "Because I raised him, and that's his way of letting me know."

She jerked her head to look at him with a shocked expression on her face. "You raised him?"

He nodded. "Of course, it was an experiment at first, but then I found that I was rather taken with him and he with me." He paused, brushing the horse's mane from his forehead. "His name is Strange if you must know."

She tilted her head to the side. "Strange? You named a horse, Strange?"

He shrugged and motioned to the black animal with silver/white marking on his mane. "He looked strange when he was a colt, and he answered when I called him."

She smiled. "Of course, he did."

He dipped his head. "Horses are a part of my life, Molly, as you are. I've never told anyone."

She inhaled deeply, and studied him, trying to comprehend what he was saying. "Sherlock…"

"I've found a kinship with them and with you, for what it's worth."

Molly remained quiet, as she tried to keep her senses about her. She knew what he was saying and it moved her. "Well, then," She began, moving back to Strange. "I suppose I should overcome my fear, then."

Sherlock looked as if the world had been lifted, and he bowed his head.

She patted Strange's head and glanced over her shoulder. "Don't you think?"

He smirked and moved next to her. "If you're sure,"

She smiled. "Definitely,"

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