A/N: Thank you so much for all the follows, favourites and reviews! I can't believe that this has had over 4000 views! The prompt is 'Wearing Each Others' Clothes'. Please read and leave me a review to let me know what you think :)


Molly was sitting outside Lestrade's office, waiting for Sherlock to finish impressing everyone with how he had deduced the identity of the serial killer who had just been arrested. It wasn't that she minded waiting for him, or even that the impromptu chase after the killer had interrupted their date. It was the fact that coming to Scotland Yard inevitably meant facing the sneers of Sally Donovan, who had not changed her ways like Anderson had.

Circling like a shark that had smelt fresh blood, Donovan approached, closing in on Molly. "Still hanging around with the Freak?" she said, smirking as Molly flushed bright red. "I'll take that as a yes. I wouldn't worry though, won't be long before he gets bored."

"Please leave me alone," Molly pleaded, not meeting Donovan's eyes, praying that Sherlock would appear to save her, as she tended to avoid insulting Molly in front of him. "Why? Scared I'm right? Or maybe you're just as much of a freak as he is." She paused for a moment, seeming to consider what other cruel taunt would hurt the most. Then, very deliberately, she said, "I heard that you weren't one of Moriarty's targets. Guess you weren't important enough to matter."

At this, Molly bit back a sob, and stood up, walking away as quickly as possible. "Hit a nerve, did I?" Donovan called out after her, and upon receiving no reply, went back to what she was doing. It was another ten minutes before the door of Lestrade's office opened. Sherlock, John and Lestrade stepped out, and Sherlock turned to where Molly had been sat.

When he couldn't find her, he scanned the room, and spotted a smug looking Donovan by the water cooler. "Donovan..." he growled under his breath, his eyes narrowing. When she saw them staring at her, Donovan crossed the room, grinning. "What did you do to Molly?" Sherlock said, radiating anger.

"I just pointed out some facts that she didn't seem to like," she replied, before returning to her desk, impervious to Sherlock's glare.

"I'm going after Molly, it must have been bad, she normally doesn't react to Donovan," Sherlock said to the others, flicking his coat collar up before striding out of the room, his coat swirling behind him. "I really wouldn't want to be Donovan right now," John muttered to Lestrade as Sherlock left, looking concerned.

A few streets away, Molly was already soaked through to her skin in the pouring rain, shivering as she headed towards her destination, feeling anxious and upset, cursing Donovan and her own stupid doubts as she walked. "What if she's right?" said the little voice in the back of her mind. "What is this is all some sort of experiment?"

"Shut up!" Molly yelled out loud, to the bewilderment of an elderly couple who were passing her. "I'm so sorry, I didn't mean you!" Molly said, as they began to argue with her, before continuing on her way.

Meanwhile, Sherlock was tearing through the rain, with a clear idea of where Molly was headed. Whenever she got upset, she would visit her father's grave, so she had probably gone there now, a place about thirty minutes from Scotland Yard. Normally, he would have let her go, as she seemed to want time alone. However, the rain was falling heavily, and the wind was howling, whilst Molly only had a cardigan and a scarf with her. If he didn't find her soon, she'd make herself ill from the cold and wet weather.

It took Molly a further ten minutes to reach the graveyard, by which point she was almost numb from the cold, and her shivering had become out of control. Curling up next to the marble gravestone, she gradually regained some calm, slowing the tears and her breathing. Suddenly, she felt an arm wrap around her shoulders, and she looked up to find Sherlock crouching next to her, an expression of concern on his face.

"Molly?" he said hesitantly, unsure of how to deal with the crying woman. She didn't respond, refusing to meet his eyes, making herself seem as small as possible. Realising that she wasn't ready to explain exactly what had happened at Scotland Yard, or leave, he slowly removed his Belstaff and draped it around her petite frame, allowing the rain to soak his satin shirt.

Molly made a weak attempt to protest, but Sherlock refused to take it back. Five more minutes passed, and then Molly got to her feet, still shivering despite the coat. "Let's go home, you m-must be free-freezing," she said to Sherlock, her teeth chattering. Feeling guilty about having taken his coat, she took off the pink fluffy scarf that she was wearing, and tied it around Sherlock's neck. Hiding his inner disgust at the offending item, Sherlock gave Molly's shoulders a quick squeeze, then attempted to hail a cab.

Luck didn't seem to be on their side, with Sherlock grumbling about "of all the times" and "how many of them owe me a favour?" as multiple cabs passed them by without stopping, one even splashing them as it drove through a puddle. Eventually, they gave up, trekking across London, the rain continuing to pour.

It took them almost an hour to arrive at 221B, by which point their lips had turned blue, and their hair was dripping wet. Mrs Hudson opened the door to them, and immediately told them to go and take a hot shower, whilst she prepared hot drinks for them both, although she couldn't help but giggle at the pink thing that adorned Sherlock's neck.

Once they had both showered, they changed into warm pyjamas and slippers, and huddled together on the sofa, covered by blankets brought up by Mrs Hudson. Sherlock let Molly finish drinking her hot chocolate before speaking. "Molly, now that we are both dry and you have calmed down, could you tell me what exactly Donovan said that upset you so much?"

Molly took a deep breath before answering. "It's going to sound really silly and petty, but she said that, well, that I didn't matter enough to you for Moriarty to threaten me." Having said it out loud, it sounded even more stupid, she thought, preparing for the worst. Instead, Sherlock's looked surprised, as if he hadn't even considered the possibility that Molly might have thought she wasn't important to him. He spoke in a rush, keen to allay her fears. "Molly Hooper, don't ever let anyone tell you that you aren't important to me. You are. I love you Molly, and just because Moriarty couldn't see that doesn't mean it isn't true. So if she ever says anything like that again, I will personally see to it that she loses her job, as she is clearly incompetent at deducing anything. And – Molly, what's wrong? What did I say?" Sherlock paused in the middle of his speech, realising that she was no longer listening properly.

"You said that you loved me," Molly said, looking stunned.

"Of course, I thought that was obvious. I understand if you don't feel the same w – " Sherlock replied, seeming worried that he had done something wrong.

Molly interrupted him before he could continue. "Sherlock, I love you too." A grin spread across his face.

Suddenly, a squeak was heard through the door, sounding suspiciously like Mrs Hudson, who had apparently been eavesdropping the entire time. Winking at Molly, Sherlock innocently called out, "Mrs Hudson?" after which footsteps could be heard hurrying down the stairs.

"Sherlock, don't tease," Molly scolded him, or at least began to, as he suddenly pressed his lips to hers, making it quite impossible for her to continue.