Slight change of plan. I was supposed to be off on a much needed break to a holiday lodge down in Devon but at the last minute it was cancelled. You can imagine how well that has gone down. So now I'm stuck at home, it's too hot and I can't even find a nice pub to go to for a meal as everywhere seems to be fully booked...sigh!

I'm consoling myself with posting this to hopefully cheer you guys up at least. As I said in my previous fic I have two lockdown fics to post; an emotional smut one and a smutty smut one. I decided to go with the emotional smut one first. Anyway I hope you enjoy it.

Chapter 1

Molly seemed to be surrounded by chaos. Controlled chaos, but chaos all the same. Ever since the reports started to come out about a new virus, a new pandemic, the hospital had gone into overdrive setting up new areas, redeploying staff, updating procedure, warning everyone of what was to come and what their role would be. Molly's role as ever would be in the morgue counting the dead...recording their last moments and whatever it was that had killed them.

For a while things continued unchanged...the normal cycle of life and death. If anything it was quieter...the calm before the storm but they knew it was coming. It was sweeping across the world towards them continent by continent, country by country.

When it finally hit it was almost a relief. Now it was here they could go into battle, face the enemy and see who would live or die. Who would win? Molly felt confident in her friends and colleagues at the hospital but it didn't stop the fear.

Again, for Molly, there was a lag...a wait. As people started to come down with the illness life in her morgue carried on unchanged for a while and she started to think that maybe they would escape...that it had run its course and run out of the ability to kill. But then it started, just an extra one or two cases, then four or five and then it was starting to overwhelm them. Even their best laid plans couldn't cope with the amount of people being admitted and the amount of people dying.

Molly's shifts went from eight hours to ten and then quickly to twelve hours on and twelve hours off...if she was lucky. She felt so tired at times that she could barely remember her own name and yet still she thought herself lucky. Her job, difficult though it was, wasn't half as bad as it was for her colleagues upstairs. She would see them on her way out or in the odd moments when she had a break, eyes wide behind their masks, pain and horror etched into their faces but still doggedly determined to keep going, to try to save even just one life to make it all worthwhile.

And then, finally, there was the stillness; the empty streets; being able to hear birdsong during the early morning walk home after a grueling shift. Even though it took her nearly an hour she still liked to walk most days...needing it to decompress. To try to shake off what had been before she went home to what was.

As she made her way up her street she felt that same shiver of anticipation. Her keys feeling heavy in her pocket, reminding her of her current life; two halves that couldn't be more different from each other.

She'd take them out in readiness even though she was still a good way from the front door and her feet would quicken their step to get her there sooner; suddenly wanting to be inside. To be safe and away from the outside world and all its trauma.

She opened the door and quickly made her way up the stairs being mindful not to touch anything if she could help it; knowing that anything she touched she would have to return and disinfect until she finally made it into the flat, creeping in. But first things first, she needed a shower. Needed to wash herself clean but also she desperately wanted to maintain the infection control within her home. She didn't want to be worrying about masks and gloves and bleach where she lived; she had more than enough of that at work.

Quickly she stripped off, bagging her clothes up separately so she could wash them later. Then she stepped under the cleansing water and faced it, feeling the heat washing over her, making her gasp and shudder involuntarily. She washed her skin and her hair until she felt confident that there was no more risk.

Once done she wrapped herself in one of the fluffy bath sheets with her hair up in a smaller one. She was starting to feel sleepy now as the exhaustion started to take her. She just needed to get dry and then she could sleep.

She was yawning as she made her way through to her bedroom. It was almost completely dark; the curtains closed, blocking out the morning sun. She glanced at the clock on the bedside cabinet to see it was just after seven. This felt like the best part of her day; the point at which she could just give in and rest.

She slid naked under the cool, crisp cover and let out a deep sigh.

Sherlock must have heard her or sensed her because he rolled over and wrapped his arm around her waist pulling her to him and she closed her eyes and smiled to herself as she moved closer to him. How had the worse event in recent human history coincided with the best moment in her life?

She thought back to less than two weeks ago...was it really only nine days that she'd been here?

She'd been at home in her own flat when she'd received the call from Sherlock.

'Molly, listen to me, do what I ask and please...please don't question it. Pack up your cat and enough clothes to last you a few weeks. Mycroft is sending round a car, it will be with you within the hour. I'll explain more when I see you.'

Molly had frowned and opened her mouth to speak but he'd already gone. She looked at the phone in shock...almost as if she expected it to give her the answers she needed. Why was she packing up? What was he planning? Why did she have so little time?

She switched on the news on the small TV in her bedroom hoping it might give her some clues, even as she pulled down her suitcase and started to empty out her drawers of the things she might need. She'd learnt from experience to do as Sherlock asked even if it seemed odd and counter-intuitive. After everything they'd all gone through the previous year with his sister, Molly knew he would have her best interests at heart. He'd proved his friendship in that phone call even if it hadn't ended up how Molly had hoped it would. He'd sounded so sincere when he'd told her he loved her that she'd almost convinced herself it was true but if it was he'd never acted on it.

The news, as ever, was just wall to wall coverage of the current health crises...questions about whether the government was doing enough...or maybe doing too much...none of the experts seeming able to agree with each other. It was just endless speculation and Molly turned it off in frustration.

Just as he had promised under an hour later, just as she was persuading a reluctant Toby to get into his cat carrier, there was a knock at the door.

Molly checked the peep hole and saw a man she didn't recognise, dressed in a black suit.

She called through the door, feeling suddenly nervous. 'Who is it?'

'I've been sent by Mr Holmes. He said to say...' there was a pause and Molly could see him glancing down at something but she couldn't see what..her vision was too restricted. '...umm...Vatican cameos?'

He sounded uncertain about the last two words but Molly felt herself sag with relief. That was the phrase that Sherlock had told her he would use to prove any message or messenger was truly from himself.

She opened the door and stepped back, thinking as she always had to now of appropriate social distancing.

'I've been sent to collect you and your things?'

She nodded and led him through to the front room indicating towards the two bags with her clothes in. As he picked them up she did a final check of her flat making sure plugs were switched off and no lights were left on.

'Do you know where I'm going? Or why?'

The guy shrugged. 'Sorry, I'm not sure if I'm supposed to tell you. It's not far though. As for the why? Well...that's above my pay grade.'

Molly picked up her handbag and Toby's carrier and she followed him out of the door and down to the car.

Fifteen minutes later and they pulled up outside Baker St and Molly felt even more confused. She'd expected to be taken to a safe house or some government facility rather than Sherlock's home. And they weren't alone.

Sherlock was currently taking a delivery of food, carrying the last couple of bags up the stairs even as Molly was left on the doorstep along with her cases.

'I'd best not bring them in. Less we spread this virus the better eh Miss? Good luck to you.'

Molly nodded and thanked him and decided to at least get all of her things inside the front door whilst she waited for Sherlock.

She glanced at the cafe seeing how quiet it was. People just weren't eating out like they had done previously. No one wanted to take the risk of picking up or spreading the infection.

Just then Sherlock came back down the stairs and relieved her of her suitcases.

'Good, I'm glad you followed my instructions. Let's get you upstairs...bring the cat...Toby isn't it?'

She smiled and nodded. 'Yes, but Sherlock what am I doing here?'

'I would have thought that was obvious, you're moving in.'

He dropped the bags on the floor in his front room and turned to face her.

'Moving in? With you? But why?'

He took Toby's carrier off her and placed it onto the floor before hunching down and flicking the catches. Molly wasn't surprised though when her cat didn't come out. Whilst he was always reluctant to go in he was even more reluctant to come out in an environment that didn't smell like home.

She saw Sherlock frown and crouch down a bit further to peer inside as though checking there was actually a cat in there. After spotting him he shrugged and stood back up.

'Coffee?'

'Sherlock, why am I here?'

'Oh, did I not tell you that already?'

He made his way through to the kitchen and she followed him in feeling increasingly exasperated.

'No, no you didn't.'

'I just heard from Mycroft that the government is announcing a lock down. We're all to isolate in our own home and only mix with those people we live with. The only time we'll be allowed out is for essential work, like yourself, and food, medical supplies.'

'Oh.'

Molly sat down on one of the kitchen chairs. 'I'd suspected they might do something like this but it's still a shock. Even so, why bring me here? I'd have been fine at home.'

'Would you? What if you fell ill? You'd be all on your own with no one to look out for you. Plus I need more than Mrs Hudson for company.'

'What about John?'

'He's moving in with his sister so she can look after Rosie whilst he works in A&E at her local hospital in Hammersmith.'

'So...you really want me here? This could be for weeks Sherlock?'

He turned and looked her in the eye. 'Yes, I really do.'

'Right, OK then. I suppose I'm up in John's old room then?'

She stood and started to make her way back towards her bags.

'If you like, that or you can be in my room, you'll probably end up there anyway.'

Of all the things that Sherlock had ever said to her this was the one that genuinely floored her the most.

'What?'

He finally finished the coffees and carried hers over to her.

'You heard me Molly. Given how we feel about each other, and given that we are now going to be sharing a flat don't you think it's inevitable that you'll end up in my bed...or I in yours. I can assure you that mine is far more comfortable that the one upstairs so why wait?'

For once I decided to not have Sherlock beating around the bush and not being honest...instead he's probably completely blindsided her. Let me know if you like that tactic.