So here in the UK we're starting to get hints of Spring in the air, one of my favourite times of year, even if it does give me hay fever. Hope you guys are all enjoying your weekend wherever you are on this amazing planet of ours.

Chapter 11

By the time Sherlock dragged himself into Molly's front room an hour later, wrapped in one of her sheets, she was surrounded by heaps of books that she was busily sorting into different piles.

He looked around grumpily, 'what on earth are you doing?'

Molly looked up, noticing him for the first time, 'oh, morning, I'm deciding which books to take with me to your place and which to give to charity.'

'You are not taking these books to my place!'

'What, why not? Have you changed your mind?'

He knelt down on the floor in front of her and wrapped her up with him in his sheet, 'you have got to start being more confident about us Molly Hooper. I only meant you're not taking them to my place, you're taking them to our place. Honestly, I thought I was supposed to be the reluctant partner in this relationship.'

He pulled her too him and as her hands splayed on his chest she realised that he was naked underneath the sheet. 'Mmmmmm, you're all warm.'

He smirked down at her, 'I'm not just warm, I believe I'm hot,' and with that he kissed her pushing her backwards onto the floor sliding his hands up her sides underneath her pyjamas.

Molly kissed him back enthusiastically her own hands busily exploring his body. She moaned into his mouth as he palmed her breast, 'so can I expect this kind of greeting every morning when I move in, coz if so I might have to move in today.'

He smiled as he kissed his way down her neck, 'I wish you would, I already hate you not being in my bed.' He pushed her top up and sucked her nipple into his mouth using his tongue and his teeth to stimulate her until she was pushing herself against his erection for friction. She had never been with a guy who turned her on so completely and seemed to know exactly what to do to arouse her.

Within seconds he had removed her clothes and was pushing himself inside her. He set a slow pace that drove her mad, bringing her to the brink of her orgasm more than once before slowing and teasing her away from the edge. In the end she pushed him over onto his back frowning down at his smiles and she set her own pace, relishing the feel of him both inside her and underneath her. Within seconds she was crying out his name and she swore at him to come himself. It worked and she felt his release as he gripped her hips so tight she felt sure she'd bruise, not that she cared.

They ended up lying tangled in a bed-sheet on scattered piles of books trying to catch their breath.

Sherlock was the first to talk, 'I have no idea why I waited so long to do this Molly. You have to understand in the past sex was not intimate, just a physical release. I...I never realised that with the right person there would be such an emotional release as well...I can't describe it, I just know I don't want it...us to stop.'

'I'm just glad you finally realised, now come on there's work to be done if I'm moving in with you.'

MHMHMHMHMHMHMHMH

A couple of days later as John helped Molly carry an empty chest of drawers up the stairs of Baker St. she realised that Sherlock wasn't much of a do'er when it came to domestic stuff.

'So, where exactly has he buggered off to?' Huffed John as he took most of the weight of the furniture as Molly guided it round the bend of the stairs.

'I don't know, he said something vague about seeing Lestrade about the case and I haven't seen him since.'

'I hope you know what you're letting yourself in for Molly. You need to start as you mean to go on or he'll have you acting like an in-built slave, God knows that's what I was sometimes...well, most of the time if I'm honest.'

'I know you're right John, but I also know what he's like. I'm going to play it by ear and see if we can't find some compromises.'

'Well good luck with that one. Now where do you want this?'

'I suppose in Sherlock's...our bedroom. Wow, this is going to take some getting used to.'

'To be honest, you're not the only one getting used to it, I thought the grumpy, old git would die alone but you've proved me wrong. Mary seems to be the only one not fazed she's just amazed it took him so long and says I should have done more to get him to see how perfect you were for him.'

'That reminds me, I will call in soon and see how her and Elizabeth are getting on. I could do with a girly natter.'

They'd finally positioned the chest of drawers against the only blank wall in Sherlock's room. Molly frowned at the difference it made in the room. All his bedroom furniture was dark wood and expensive looking whilst hers was light wood and cheap looking. She hoped it wasn't a metaphor for their relationship.

She thanked John for his help and started to unpack her suitcases of clothes. At least before he'd left Sherlock had made some room for her in his wardrobe and one of the bedside cabinets so she had a reasonable amount of space.

She'd only brought the basics so far, she'd have to make a decision about some of the larger items of furniture eventually but she still had over a month left on her lease so she didn't need to do everything straight away. She could decide whether to store or sell in a couple of weeks. There wasn't much she was desperate to keep as it was mostly cheap Ikea stuff, no keepsakes.

When she'd finished in the bedroom she made her way through to the kitchen and sighed in despair, what on earth was she going to do here? She knew Sherlock loved his experiments and she absolutely didn't want to stop him doing anything he loved but likewise she quite enjoyed cooking and, honestly, she preferred her food not to have to share fridge space with body parts.

She'd have to give it some thought. The living room was a bit better. When John moved out his departure had left a couple of shelves of free space on the bookshelves. She spent an hour putting her medical journals in here before moving upstairs to put her trashy novels on the bookcase in John's old room. Perfect. It was as she was up there and she looked around the space that she had an idea...it might just work. She'd have to sort it out in a couple of days though, she didn't have time today.

She went back downstairs and texted Sherlock.

It's OK the move has been done. Safe for you to come home now. Bring food. Mx

She smiled wondering whether he'd deny avoiding helping. The ping on her phone gave her her answer.

Good. Will be back in half an hour with Chinese. SH

So no denial then. Well, he's never anything but honest. She smiled to herself again and decided to see if Mrs Hudson were free for a cuppa and a chat.

SHSHSHSHSHSHSHSH

When Sherlock arrived back it was to an empty flat though he quickly realised that Molly must be downstairs. He nodded approvingly at the books that had now appeared in his bookshelves. He'd enjoy browsing through some of those.

It wasn't such a good sight in his bedroom though. He winced at the cheap monstrosity that had appeared from Molly's bedroom. He definitely wanted Molly here but he wasn't so sure about her furniture. It would have to go, but he supposed he'd have to put up with it for now.

He threw himself down on the settee and texted downstairs to Mrs Hudson for her to let Molly know he was back. He couldn't be bothered going down, he'd only get dragged into some interminable conversation. It would be quite good having Molly here to pick up the slack with Mrs Hudson.

By the time Molly arrived back he was 'fast asleep' in his mind palace, a bag of Chinese on the kitchen table waiting to be unpacked. Molly sighed, but moved to get some plates.

A few minutes later she put the food onto the coffee table and nudged Sherlock to move his legs. He yawned as he sat upright but leant forward to kiss her on the cheek.

'So, how did the move go? I take it Toby is now in residence.' He looked around him as though Toby would jump out any second.

'Yes, he's hiding out upstairs at the moment, he doesn't like change...so you two should get along perfectly.' She smiled looking at Sherlock out of the corner of her eye. He huffed in response.

'So, how's the case going? What more do you know?'

'His name was Father Cassidy, he'd been based at St Clement's for over ten years. Aged 63, he went into the priesthood at 18 working as a local parish priest all his life though in different locations across London. So far, so nothing. I keep coming back to the fact that this crime was unexpected and unplanned. It looks as though he were strangled with his own rosary, which is still missing. Something happened in that confessional which triggered the crime. But what? There's just not enough information.'

'Have you deduced anything about the killer from the footprint you found?'

'Not much, no. Definitely male, probably about six feet tall. Works and lives in the local area from the residue found in the footprint, maybe not a regular church goer, but Catholic background. As I said in the church he didn't know the layout. Office worker probably which doesn't help as the local area has hundreds of offices.' He pushed his plate away and rubbed his hand over his face. 'You get some sleep Molly, I'll stay out here. I need to catalogue my thoughts, see what links I can find.'

Molly reached out her hand to his face turning it to face her. She kissed him softly on the lips, her eyes closing momentarily, 'OK but don't think you can desert our bed every night Mister Holmes.' With that she picked up the plates and left him to it.

I'm challenging myself a bit with this story. I've never written established Sherlolly so I want to explore the reality of living with Sherlock Holmes, I suspect it would not be all plain sailing! What do you think?