Molly got Tom's new address from his flatmate and met him at the door just as he was returning from walking Jonesey. He was pouting, but he soon stopped that when she pushed him into the bedroom to christen the flat with a bout of marathon sex.

It was warm and cozy when she woke to find Tom spooned up against her. She smiled to herself. Tom had been mad at her for leaving, but he told her that he had forgiven her after the third time. She couldn't help feeling a stab of pride that she had actually worn him out this time. They were sleeping on a mattress which was lying on the floor. He hadn't moved his bed over yet.

An hour or so ago, he had gone out of the bedroom to brush his teeth and feed Jonesy. And when he had returned, she had run her hands along his back and kissed him senseless with her eyes closed tight. Now, he was sleeping the sleep of the truly exhausted, while she felt a pleasant warmth inside.

She loved the feeling of someone so tall pressed against her back. It took hardly any imagination at all to believe that it was someone else's arm flopped over her hip. She'd have to find out what kind of shampoo Sherlock used. That would have made the illusion complete.

She felt loose-limbed when she finally got up to take a shower. She had to put her own clothes back on because she hadn't thought to bring any. She found an apple in the kitchen and sat on the only chair in the place to eat it. Jonesy jumped up onto her lap then, and she pet his head just as her phone rang.

"Hello," she said.

"Molly. This is Sherlock."

Molly blushed, "Oh hello, Sherlock. How are you?"

"What? Oh yes, social niceties. I believe 'I am fine' is the appropriate response. But I have called for a purpose. There is to be a party and I would like to know if you will attend."

"Sherlock, are you asking me out?"

"Yes. To a party at Baker Street, tomorrow afternoon. It's John's idea really. A coming out party."

"Coming out!"

"Coming back, that is. I was simply going to have the press conference and be done with the entire being dead thing, but he decided that we should invite people over and have a party. So, are you coming or not? I have to call Lestrade next."

"Yes, certainly. I'll be there."

"Oh, and you can bring...Tim?"

"Tom. I'll do that."

"Good. Goodbye then."

"Goodbye, Sherlock."

A party? Sherlock had invited her to a party. It wasn't like last time when he had looked so disappointed to see her, even after she had spent so much on his gift and that dress. This time he had called her himself and didn't just delegate the task to John or Mrs Hudson. She heard Tom's voice calling for her, and so she went back into the bedroom.

They arrived at the party a little late. The press were already gathering outside.

"Hello everyone, this is Tom. Tom, this is everyone."

She looked around the room to see Inspector Lestrade, Mrs Hudson, John and some other woman that she didn't know. Sherlock was standing by the window. Probably looking out at the journalists. He was so tall and thin, and he smiled when he turned toward her. He looked happy. She was also happy that he was back. He stopped in front of them and gave Tom a look over before shaking his hand, and not one insult slipped out of his lips. Not one! Molly was so proud.

Tom went to sit with Mrs Hudson, and Lestrade stepped up beside her to ask in a low voice.

"Is it serious, You two?"

"Yeah!" she said. "I've moved on." And she had.

Sherlock was... well Sherlock, and she couldn't help but want him whenever he passed by. She had long ago comes to grips with that. But it was too late. Perhaps one day he would realize how right she was for him, but now she had her own life to live. She had found someone else who would give her what she needed, and she was going to have the marriage and the kids and everything that they said she would never get. Her last boyfriend, whose name was best forgotten, had said that she was too odd and too plain for anyone to ever want to sleep with, much less marry. He had called her cold and barren. How many years had she believed that idiot before she had met Sherlock and realized that being different didn't have to mean being loveless.

Everyone was interested in Tom. Mrs Hudson was grilling him on how they had met and what his life was like. Lestrade looked at both of them oddly, while Mary (that's who the other woman was) cooed over her engagement ring.

Apparently, Mary had just got engaged to John, or was about to. There was something strange about that, John getting engaged? Sherlock was always jealous of John spending too much time with anyone but him. Perhaps Sherlock had moved on as well.

When they got home to Tom's flat. He turned to her and asked.

"Did you used to date Sherlock Holmes?"

"Me? Why no. I never dated him."

"It felt like you had. Everyone was looking at me as if I was the new one. They kept staring between me and him as if there was some kind of competition going on. What was between you and Sherlock Holmes... before."

"Oh Tom! Are you jealous?" Molly asked with a sly smile. "Do you want to... I don't know... dominate me? Prove to me that I'm yours?"

Tom looked at her with a shocked expression. "I...uh...no. I... just...hmmm." Then he bowed his head and went to hang up his coat, only then realizing that he hadn't yet put up a hook for it.

"I'm sorry," Molly said. "I didn't mean anything. I was just teasing." She wrapped her arms around him and gave him a hug.

Then she took his coat from his hand and drapped it over the chair. "We're going to have to move some furniture in to this flat soon. My couch would go against that wall. What do you think?"

Tom turned and smiled at her, "You're moving in?"

"Yes!" she said smiling, and he grabbed her around the waist and twirled her around. The dog came out of the kitchen then and began barking and jumping around them happily.