Hey, hey. I wasn't sure I'd manage to post this today but I'm glad I have; I didn't want to keep you waiting any longer. I'm a bit excited though and I have to tell you that I've just booked for a photo with Loo Brealey at Sherlocked in Nov. I've never met her before and I can't wait.

Chapter 13

Molly greeted Mycroft and he silently gestured behind him when she asked if he knew where Sherlock was. She walked on and came out into a formal garden filled with colours and scents and standing in the middle with his back to her and his hands in his pockets was Sherlock.

She took a moment to just enjoy the sight of him. His shirt sleeves were rolled up and she could see his slim, muscular arms and that firm backside encased in tight, black trousers. He was like the perfect specimen of manhood to her and even more so after last night and she could feel her body reacting just to the sight of him. She took a deep breath and plastered a smile on her face as she started to make her way over to him.

As soon as he turned though she knew the conversation was not going to go well. He had a determined, cold look on his face that told her more than his words probably would. He thought what they had done was a mistake and he had no intention of doing it again.

'Molly, I'm glad you're here. We need to talk.'

He gestured towards a bench at the side of the garden and they made their way over to it in silence. Molly felt as though she had a dead weight in her stomach. Her head had started pounding again with her hangover and she knew she wasn't ready to hear what he had to say.

He sat down and leant over resting his elbows on his knees, his hands clasped together and his eyes on the ground.

'Molly, I want to apologise for last night. I want you to know that whilst I cannot deny I enjoyed our...err..time together it can't ever happen again. We'd both been drinking and maybe we'd pushed the boundaries too far and...well, I hope we can still be friends because your friendship is one of the most important things in my life.'

She put her hand onto his arm and he sat up and away from her so fast it was as though she'd burnt him. She pulled her hand back and frowned. This was not what she had wanted to hear but she couldn't say it was a surprise.

'I enjoy being your friend too Sherlock but I'm not sure I can keep going with this charade...'

She saw him bite his lip and look away and her heart clenched in pain, she just wanted to be able to kiss him and hold him. She'd tried to tell herself that she could handle this fake relationship but she'd been wrong, she'd been seeing it as real and the pain of losing it…him, was just as real.

'We shouldn't have to be so physical now. I think we've done a good enough job to convince my family. We can just say we've had a bit of a row, I'm sure you can think of something I might have done to irritate you and I'll talk to Mycroft about us leaving first thing tomorrow...maybe even later today.'

She just hung her head and nodded not having anything else she could say. She wanted to stop him, to make him change his mind, to convince him they were made for each other but she knew he wouldn't understand a word she said. Yes, he cared for her in his own way but he didn't love her, he never had.

She watched as he walked away and tried not to cry but she couldn't help the odd tear that traitorously leaked out and slid down her cheek.

She wasn't sure how long she sat there in the hollow peacefulness of the garden but eventually she heard the sounds of people arriving and the garden party getting started and she knew she needed to pull herself together. 'Come on Hooper, you have a job to do, so do it.' It helped that she didn't want Sherlock to know how much she was hurting, she had never been the weepy, clinging sort and she had no intention of starting now. She would hold her head up high and fake the happiness until it came back again.

What did come back however was a flood of memories and feelings when she stepped out onto the lawn and saw her ex-boyfriend and old love looking just as handsome as he always had and the smile that lit up his face when he saw her was a balm for her soul that she hadn't realised that she needed until it was given.

SHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSH

Sherlock walked away from Molly feeling less at ease than he thought he would. He had a heavy feeling in his stomach and a barely controlled anger that he just couldn't seem to shake off. He didn't understand it.

When he had awoken and remembered what had happened the night before he had thought that although they shouldn't have done it, it might work to dispel this obsession that he'd been feeling around her. He thought the sex might "get her out of his system" as he had heard people say. He had done the right thing in talking to her, it was only fair that he made his position clear so why did he feel like he'd done the wrong thing.

This weekend couldn't be over quick enough as far as Sherlock was concerned and he even tracked down Mycroft and asked him to have a car come and pick him up later that same day.

'May I ask why? Serial killer on the loose in London? Crown Jewels stolen again? Because I haven't heard anything to that effect.'

'No particular reason, I just want to get out of here.'

'Don't we all brother mine, don't we all but you know perfectly well we have no choice. Do you honestly think I'd be here if we did? If you're feeling so disgruntled at the moment perhaps it's because you've made some bad choices recently and running away won't solve those...it never does.'

He cocked his head towards the guests starting to collect glasses of wine and greet their host.

'Talking of which here comes Ms Hooper now and I don't think that smile on her face is for you.'

Sherlock turned his head to see Molly, his Molly, making her way over to a tall, slim blond guy about their age. He was already holding his arms open in greeting and the way they embraced and then kissed each other's cheek told Sherlock far more than he wanted to know about their previous relationship. The feeling of unutterable jealousy that rose up in him at that moment was a feeling he had only ever experienced once before and that was when he had realised that Molly had not been dating "Jim from IT" but Moriarty.

It was thick in his throat, a bilious, sickly feeling which almost overwhelmed him. He didn't even answer Mycroft who was making some droll comment, he just found himself striding over the grass to join them both and break up whatever happy reunion they had been planning on. After all, he told himself, it wouldn't help his cause if Molly looked too cosy with someone else.

As he drew closer his mind went into overdrive as he deduced every possibly thing he could about this guy. There must be something negative, some reason for Molly to not be with him...but he came up blank. He was a doctor, so that maybe explained them knowing each other, divorced, no kids, a dog lover with a German shepherd. He wasn't a smoker, wasn't an alcoholic, wasn't a drug addict or a gambler.

'...so good to see you, honestly Molly you look gorgeous and you haven't changed a bit.'

He could see Molly blushing and looking down before putting her hand on his chest and looking up at him, her eyes dilating. She bit her lip and smiled. 'David, you always were a charmer. So, what are you up to now? Still in MSF?'

'No, I did my last turn 12 months ago and then left. I'm a GP now just outside London. I thought it was time I settled down, found a girl and had kids. How about you, are you single?'

Just at the point that Molly was about to answer in the affirmative Sherlock drew up beside them and wrapped his arm around Molly's waist pulling her to him.

'There you are, I've been looking for you everywhere.' As she turned to look at him he bent and kissed her and it was very obvious from the kiss just what kind of relationship he and Molly were in.

David immediately fell back a step and his face dropped ever so slightly and Sherlock couldn't help the feeling of smugness that washed over him.

'Oh, of course, my mother said something about you seeing one of the Holmes brothers. Which one are you then? I hear there's a famous one who faked his own death.'

Molly giggled. 'Yes, this is him. Sherlock, this is David Lowell an old friend of mine. David... Sherlock Holmes, Consulting Detective and professional death faker.'

The two men shook hands in the way that men do when they are weighing up the competition.

'Molly...old friend, really? Is that what I'm demoted to now? Molly was my first love Mr Holmes and I don't think you ever forget your first do you?'

He and Molly shared a smile and Sherlock felt his anger bubbling back up again. 'Well, if she'd been that special you should never have let her go. I know I won't.'

He felt Molly stiffen a little, still in his grasp, but he couldn't seem to stop himself. 'I have no doubt that Molly's first love won't be her last.'

Molly downed her wine and handed Sherlock her glass. 'Sherlock, be a dear and go get me another wine.'

He narrowed his eyes as he looked at her, knowing she was giving him the brush off and getting rid of him but there was no polite way to refuse. He took the glass and muttered an 'of course' before turning to try and spot one of the circling waiters with trays. For once there were none around and by the time he found one and turned back to where Molly and David had been they were gone.

'Fuck!'

His outburst caused a couple of people near him to look around and frown and his mood just worsened when his aunt appeared at his side. 'Language Sherlock, remember who you are and where you are. We have an image to uphold.'

He wanted to tell her to fuck their image but that would just get him into worse trouble, no doubt with his parents brought in as well.

'Something upsetting you dear?' She asked as she followed his gaze around the lawn. 'You look like you've lost something.'

'David Lowell and his family, who are they and how do we know them?'

His aunt shrugged. 'We don't really, more of a friend of a friend. I invited them as a favour to Sylvia Musgrave as they were staying with her this weekend. Why is there a problem?'

'No, no problem. Anyway, I have to go...' he gestured around them, '...mingle, network, whatever the term is...'

As he walked away he downed Molly's wine in one trying to ignore his aunt as she shouted after him. 'If you've lost something perhaps you should make an effort to find it before it's lost for good.'

Do we believe the aunt that it's all just a coincidence…don't we know that the universe is rarely that lazy? So, Sherlock is jealous and Molly is missing….I expect you'll want me to be back soon with the next chapter…am I right?