But maybe from the madness something beautiful will grow...
Now that they knew that the virus worked, Sherlock and Molly with the aid of John and Billy set to work producing it in large quantities.
Then in pairs they would set off to different parts of the city, releasing the virus on any unsuspecting Martian they came across, letting the wind take it further a field.
Proof that they were indeed winning the war against their invaders came when communications were re-established and electricity and gas were restored.
From that point on other countries around the world that had been likewise affected were now able to combat the effects that had brought them to their knees.
Life could finally go back to the way it had before…
221B BAKER STREET - TWO MONTHS LATER
Molly rushed up the stairs of Baker Street to Sherlock's flat.
She was a little out of breath, having rushed over when she'd received a text from Sherlock.
Come to Baker St. Urgent.
SH
She hadn't heard from the Consulting Detective for several days, which wasn't surprising given all the work that needed to be done around London and its surrounding suburbs.
Clearing up the considerable damage the city had endured required all hands on deck, though some like Mycroft preferred to take on a supervisory role only.
Debris from damaged and destroyed buildings littered the streets. There were few roads that were useable as many had suffered varying degrees of damage and were in desperate need of repair.
Damaged building and bridges had to be assessed for their structural integrity to determine whether they should be demolished immediately or if they could be saved.
And then there were the bodies…
She had lost count how many she had dealt with over the last couple of months.
So it had been with some relief that she'd received Sherlock's text. She was eager to discover what he'd been up to.
When she entered his flat she had to rub her eyes to make certain she wasn't seeing things.
The flat was immaculate. And not just tidy, but pristine.
Of the tenant however there was no sign.
"Sherlock," she called.
"In here," came the response from down the hall.
When Molly entered his bedroom she came upon another remarkable sight. Sherlock Holmes was changing the sheets on his bed, himself.
"Do stop staring Molly. I am fully capable of performing such a menial task."
Sherlock's words snapped her out of her stupor.
"Sorry," she mumbled, embarrassed and uncomfortable. Suddenly all she could think was 'I'm in Sherlock's bedroom, with Sherlock…' Realising where her wayward thoughts were headed Molly angrily reminded herself that any change of feeling for her that Sherlock had alluded to in The Diogenes Club were motivated more by their precarious situation than by any…
"Wrong," Sherlock stated emphatically, now standing in her personal space as he looked intently down at her.
Taken aback by his adamant tone and the realisation of how close he was caused Molly to stumble over her words as she desperately attempted to clarify their situation. "Wh… what do you me wrong? Wr… wrong about…"
Sherlock clarified his meaning by leaning down to place a passionate kiss upon her quivering lips, leaving her in no doubt of exactly how he felt.
That was all it took to ignite the flame of long repressed feelings. Clothes were hurriedly dispensed with, both eager to taste and feel, as lips and hands covered what naked flesh they could reach. All the while they moved towards the bed, finally tumbling back upon it with its fresh new sheets.
Sherlock made his way slowly down Molly's body leaving a trail of wet, sensuous kisses over her neck, breasts and belly, until he reached his destination at the apex of her thighs. He flicked her glistening folds with his tongue, savouring her musky flavour and the desperate moans she gave as his tempo increased, causing her to raise her hips and grind her exposed sex against his talented tongue in an ever-increasing rhythm.
Molly could feel the telltale signs of her approaching orgasm, but she wanted Sherlock inside her their first time together. So grasping his damp curls she gave a sharp tug, pulling his head up with one hand, while crooking a finger with the other to indicate where she wanted him.
It was a request Sherlock willingly complied with. Rising over her, he pressed his engorged cock against her opening and slowly entered her. Both sighed at the exquisite sensation of finally being joined together in such an intimate way. Then Sherlock began to move, each thrust of his hips penetrating deeper. His rhythm increased as he staked his claim on her. Molly was his, and his alone.
He thrust again and again and again. The power in his surging body causing Molly to arch her body up to meet his. She sobbed for release, yet prayed that it would never end. The very next moment she let out an exhalant shout as her climax overwhelmed her. Three short hard thrusts later saw Sherlock following her into oblivion as he roared his release, before collapsing on top of her.
They stayed as they were for several minutes, both breathing heavily. Eventually it penetrated Sherlock's brain that he was probably crushing Molly, so he manoeuvred their bodies so that they now lay on their sides.
Sated for now, they lay snuggled together among tangled sheet.
Molly shivered as she felt Sherlock's fingers gently glide up and down her sweat-slicked body. In retaliation she reached up into his unruly curls, scraping her short nails over his scalp and was rewarded with a pleading moan for more.
But when he rolled her under him, she playfully noted. "You should take Billy under your wing. I'm certain he'd be a great asset to you."
Sherlock frowned, confused by why she would want to talk about Wiggins at a time like this. And then he noted the teasing glint in her eyes.
"You just want to keep him around because he's… fond of you."
"Jealous?"
"Not in the least," he denied haughtily. "I just don't intend to adopt him"
"Oh I don't know…" Molly began, halting when Sherlock began pressing a series of increasingly passionate kisses to her lips, and down to the upper swell of her breasts.
"Molly," Sherlock growled warningly, "I'd much prefer focussing my intentions on you and what I want to do to you…"
As his kisses became passionate nips and licks as his teeth and tongue swiped over her sensitive skin. Molly was more than happy to comply with her detective's wishes, turning her full attention back to driving him as crazy as he was making her.
Because finally being able to freely show her love for Sherlock, and knowing he returned that sentiment was the most precious gift, and the only one she intended to focus on for the foreseeable future.
