A.N: Hello my dear Sherlolly friends.

Yes this is the last chapter and I just wanted to thank you all for sticking with me and these 17 chapters. I hope you enjoyed reading as much as I enjoyed writing it.

For those reading my Mollcroft story I have been a bit delayed but I swear I will update soon.

Thanks again to Georgia, Beta genius.

Steffy2106

Chapter 17:

When Molly was taken out of the MRI she couldn't help but be disappointed when she saw that Sherlock wasn't there waiting for her. She sighed, shaking her head. He probably had better things to do than to sit and wait for her. She knew that Sherlock's attention span was similar to that of a hyperactive five-year-old's, but she was still annoyed by it.

"He didn't want to leave you."

Molly turned her head to see Greg standing by the door.

"Hi!" She said, happy to have at least someone here.

Lestrade walked beside her cart as they wheeled her to a room.

"This story caused quite a commotion and the Prime Minister wanted to see him now." Lestrade chuckled. "The only way for him to agree to go was for me to swear to stay here with you and call him if anything happened."

"Oh…" Molly felt her cheeks heat up with pleasure. "It's ok, you can leave. I'll be fine."

Lestrade snorted. "No offence, but I'd rather stay. Sherlock said and I'm quoting 'leave her side and I swear I will spend the rest of my life making sure you regret it,' so you know what? I'd rather not be on Sherlock Holmes' bad side if you don't mind."

"He is a bit over protective." She admitted.

"Yeah, it takes him a while for him to care but once he does… I wouldn't want to be in the shoes of the person that would hurt you."

"Could you please make sure she stays awake until we get the full result of her MRI?" asked the nurse after settling Molly in a room.

"You can count on me." Lestrade replied, sitting on the chair by the bed.

"He's dead." Molly stated once the nurse exited the room.

Lestrade looked at her quizzically. "Who?"

"The man who kidnapped me, he's dead. Mycroft killed him."

Lestrade sighed. "I know, but I don't believe Mycroft Holmes will be in any official reports."

"Do you know who this man is?"

Lestrade shook his head. "No, believe me a whole SWAT team, gun shots and everything happening in one of London's most visited place was enough to create a commotion, all I did was damage control until I was ordered to send Sherlock to the station right away."

"Oh okay…"

"But you shouldn't feel anything for that man, you know. Whatever his justification was, he was a murderer and he took you as bait."

Molly nodded; she didn't know how much she could tell him, or what would actually make the 'official' report.

She was relieved when the doctor came to tell her there was no lesion and she was now allowed to sleep. The moment she closed her eyes, she realized how exhausted she was. Maybe it was the pressure coming down.

When Molly opened her eyes again, the sun was coming up and Sherlock was sitting on the chair besides her, reading what seemed like a cheap and extremely cheesy romance novel based on the half-naked models on the cover.

"Hi." Molly croaked.

Sherlock looked up from his book and put it binder down on the table. "Molly, I am sorry I had to leave you, apparently my infatuation for you is not enough to refuse the orders from the PM. Not going could have cost Gavin his career and I know you would have been quite upset with me if it happened."

Molly reached for the glass beside her bed and drank some water. "Who?"

"Lestrade." Sherlock replied standing up and coming to stand beside her.

Molly gave him a small smile. "Greg."

"What?"

"His name is Greg."

Sherlock furrowed his eyebrows with confusion. "Are you sure?" He asked, idly stroking her hair.

Molly enjoyed his touch even if she was sure it was not a conscious. "Yes I'm sure. How come you never remember his first name? You're supposed to have this eidetic memory."

"The brain is like a hard drive, Molly and you need to get rid to all unnecessary information in order to have space. Lestrade's first name is not relevant."

Molly sighed. "So how did it go?"

Sherlock shrugged retreating back to his chair. "Pretty much how I expected it to go."

Molly was enjoying his touch but tried her best not to show it. "What do you mean?" She asked pulling her bed up.

"Well, the man who had you, is name was Hans Richburg. The official report will mention that this man acted on his own accord and that he killed the woman because he was in love with her. He staged the priest's suicide because he misunderstood their friendship for some love story. It will also be written that this man had a long history of behavioral issues and delusional personality and it was when he felt a threat coming from me that he kidnapped you with the intent to kill us both; only to be killed by a police officer who heard commotion coming from the church."

"Wow… that's creative." Molly said shaking her head.

"Yes it is, it is a record I believe, every single word of this report is fake."

"And you're going to just let it be?" Molly asked suspiciously.

Sherlock nodded once.

"Why?"

"Because I need to keep you safe and I realized that, no matter how much I deny it, my actions will always directly or indirectly affect the people I care about. Never tell him I said it, but Mycroft was right- the Illumiti are just too big to fall and I can't risk your life or John's in trying to fight them. It's seems to be a Don Quixote battle."

Molly nodded, feeling guilty somehow… it was her fault if Sherlock was backing up.

"Do not trouble yourself, Molly, I'd much rather have you safe and sound than trying to take down this stupid secret society." Sherlock added as if he could read her mind. "I wouldn't be mad you know, if you decided to back out."

"Back out of what?" She asked, confused.

"This relationship. I will never be able to promise you safety. I will try my best to keep you safe but as regretful as I am to admit it, I am only human."

"I don't want to back out, I think being in a relationship or just being a friend won't change any potential threat to my safety and as long as the second date is better than the first one… I think we're good." She said with a small smile.

"Better than you being kidnapped and threatened by a German killer? I think I can try, but no promises though."

Molly sobered up as images from last night flashed in her mind. "Never do that again, though."

"Do what?"

"Stand in between me and bullets, I couldn't bear the idea of you dying while saving me."

"That's preposterous; you were in danger because of me!"

"It doesn't matter."

"And do you believe the situation changes anything? Don't be stupid Molly, I will always stand between you and danger for as long as I live. It doesn't matter if I am or not the reason of such danger, it is not an option or a choice. If it came to a choice between your life and mine I will sacrifice mine every time."

Molly didn't think Sherlock even understood the force of his words, he was not saying that to be romantic or anything like that, he was just saying something that for him was a fact and it gave his words so much more impact. "Is it your way of saying you love me?" She asked, voice full of emotion.

"Those are only words, Molly. If you want to hear them I could tell you because of course I do, I do love you I mean, but these words… they don't mean anything. Not anymore. Everybody loves everything and everybody… People meet and after two days they say "I love you" all over, everybody loving everybody, how precious … These words, they don't mean anything, not anymore… Actions are what matter."

"And being on the verge of taking a bullet for me is clear enough."

Sherlock smiled. "And you sticking with me through thick and thin, believing in me when everybody else doubted is what matters. Now just sleep a bit more Molly, I will take you home in the morning. "

"You just want to finish your book, don't you?" Molly said teasingly, already bringing her bed down. She was still tired and she knew a couple more hours wouldn't hurt, especially knowing that Sherlock was beside her.

"Of course! I need to know if the fair Tiffany will admit to the prince she is impregnated with their love child after he sent her off to marry the evil Olivia. This book is so bad it is actually good and I believe I learned some tricks from Prince Gregory on how to please a woman; we will just need to test the theory."

Molly turned her head sharply, wide eyed. Did Sherlock actually said what she heard or was it just her imagination? But Sherlock was already reading again.

Molly closed her eyes, flushing a little as images of what the chapter might be saying flashed in her mind. She smiled. It would be the first time she was actually pleased with Sherlock's experimental side.

SMSMSMSMSMSMSMSMSMSMSMSMSMSMSMSMSMS

"I was thinking about going to pick up John and Mary today, do you want to join me?" asked Sherlock, setting the fish and chips down on Molly's desk.

She had been out of the hospital for 4 days now and Sherlock had been coming with lunch every day for her. He was playing domestic and Molly had to admit she was enjoying every minute of it.

"Are you sure?"

"I asked didn't I?"

"Okay then, it will be my pleasure. "

Sherlock nodded. "Very well then, I shall come pick you up in John's car at 4:00pm."

The traffic on the way to the airport was horrendous and they made it to the gate with only minutes to spare.

"I sure hope they're tanned," said Molly, standing slightly behind Sherlock so as not to stand in the way of the people starting to exit the gate. She let her eyes wander to the people reuniting, parents with children, friends with friends, lovers with lovers. She smiled with a heavy heart. She felt the same every time she went to an airport.

"I fixed it," she heard Sherlock say, before he intertwined his fingers with hers and pulled her to his side.

She looked up to see the rather tanned Watsons. Mary had a wide grin on her face as John was looking from Sherlock to Molly with incredulity written all over his face.

"Hi!" Molly said, as Sherlock squeezed her hand.

"Hi there," Mary said, pulling Molly into a hug even if Sherlock didn't let go of her hand.

"So you two…" John trailed off.

"Yep." Sherlock replied popping the 'p'

"Is it legit?" He asked to Molly.

Molly blushed furiously, remembering the night she had spent with Sherlock the day she had been released from the hospital. Sherlock might have been a virgin but he was a quick learner. Molly reminded herself to send an email to the author of the cheesy romance novel; Prince Gregory had definitely given Sherlock an edge.

"Based on the woman's blush I would say it's more than legit. Pay up, husband," said Mary extending her hand toward John.

"Unbelievable," John grumbled, taking a twenty out of his wallet and giving it to his wife.

"Did you bet on us?" Asked Sherlock, visibly displeased as they started off in the direction of the luggage area.

"No, not on you two. John bet that when we got back the situation would be even more screwed up and that you had messed up even worse than before. I, on the other hand, bet you would stop being stupid and realize that Molly was more important to you than what you believe."

Sherlock look down at Molly and their intertwined hands. "I guess you were right, Mary."

She smiled smugly. "I know."

"Anyways Sherlock, we have something else to tell you," said John, as they stopped to wait for the suitcases.

"The pregnancy? It took you long enough. But I suppose that congratulations are in order."

"I… what? Yeah? How did you know?" asked John, as Molly let a little squeal of delight and pulled Mary into a hug.

"John, John, John… I figured it out the day of your wedding, but I was just waiting to see how long it would take you to notice. I mean, it's not like you're a doctor or anything…. Oh wait…" Sherlock's eyes shone with mischief; it was his way to get back to John for betting on his stupidity.

"Sherlock, be nice" Molly chastised him without looking up.

Sherlock sighed, leaning down to kiss the tip of her nose to which John made a gagging sound. Sherlock rolled his eyes. "Grow up John; you're going to be a father! And how did I figure it out? Pretty easy deduction, the changing of taste preferences when you tried the wine at the wedding, your constant hunger, the mood swings… Quite obvious really."

"Quite obvious indeed…" John whispered.

"Oh leave it be John, don't beat yourself up for not seeing it. I am the detective, remember?" Sherlock let go of Molly's hand to wrap his arm around her shoulders. "Now would you like to know how Molly and I almost got killed on our first date?"

Molly rolled her eyes. She was sure that dating Sherlock Holmes was going to be one hell of a ride.

The End