Better?

"Oh no Sherlock, not again." He actually looked confused and a bit put out after she uttered those first words to him upon opening her door. Molly managed to get another sentence out before he had a chance at a scathing remark. "I just meant you're hurt again. So your nose… You really let him hit you?" She stepped off to the side and let him in before closing the door.

"I think it's rather obvious."

Old Molly would have let that slide completely, maybe sputtered out an, 'Of course, silly me'. New Molly just gritted her teeth and reminded herself that this was Sherlock. When she turned around, he was staring at her intently, like she was some puzzle he quickly had to sort out before they could continue.

"I should not have said that. At least not like that." Molly's eyes widened. Was that a Sherlock style apology? "I'm still amazed that stating facts can be construed as rude." Okay, so it was a Sherlock style half apology, half insult. The bit of irritation he'd waylaid with the first bit came back after the second, essentially cancelling themselves out. Molly took a calming breath before she spoke.

"Why are you here, Sherlock?" He again looked confused, perhaps a bit agitated as well.

"You said that I could after I spoke with John. I have spoken with John. I am here."

"I remember that bit but it doesn't answer my question?" He spun away from her then, examining her flat and all the contents therein. She didn't even want to contemplate what he was deducing from everything he was taking in. Now she wished she'd put on a smart documentary instead of the trash that was currently playing in the background on her telly.

He didn't turn around before he spoke and for once, Molly was glad his visual scrutiny wasn't on her. "You find me attractive, do you not?"

"W-what?" She squeaked out. Suddenly, she felt like old Molly again. He turned then and she just wanted to sink into the wall.

"Attractive. Do you find me physically attractive? Do you imagine yourself in intimate scenarios with me? Beyond what we've already done, would you find the idea of a physical relationship something that might interest you?"

"I-I don't know."

He strode back towards her then and gripped her wrist while staring intently into her eyes.

"Eyes dilated, pulse elevated, respiration rate increasing, adrenaline has dilated the capillaries of your cheeks, neck and…" his eyes traveled lower to where her robe had parted slightly on her chest.

"Stop that," she commanded as she wrenched her wrist from his grasp in order to both remove herself from his currently oppressive touch and so that she could tighten her robe around her. This was a bit too much. She pushed past him so she didn't feel so trapped within her own flat between him and her door. She got about halfway through the room when she whirled around to find Sherlock had turned and was watching her in what she could only describe as a calculating manner. "Why would you want to know all of that?"

"Because I wish to."

"Wish to what?"

"Be in a physical relationship with you."

She just stared at him with her mouth agape, completely stunned of any words. Yes, they'd had sex. Yes, he'd wanted to have sex that last time he'd been here but for some reason, his coming out and saying, rather bluntly, that he wished to have some ongoing… thing, nearly knocked her flat. When she didn't respond right away, he continued, slowly advancing on her as he did.

"I believe I'm correct in assuming that you are indeed attracted to me. I find that I am to you as well. I also believe that you've imagined us in intimate scenarios before. I have found my imagination to be rather creative in that area as well." Still, no coherent thoughts formed in her mind, leaving her a continued mute. "You expressed a deficiency in my form as per our previous encounters. I would like to correct that, improve upon that." She swallowed and he took two more steps, slowly closing the gap between them. She felt exactly like the proverbial deer in headlights as Sherlock continued to bear down on her. "I would like to find out what gives you physical pleasure." Another step. "I would like that very much. So I am once again asking you for your assistance, Molly Hooper."

He stood directly in front of her and his eyes were taking in everything, she could feel it. They darted to every part of her physical form, obviously seeking the non-verbal answer that her continued silence forced him to. Whatever it was he deduced led him to slowly reach up to cup her cheek and Molly found she just couldn't help herself when she closed her eyes and turned into his touch. So maybe she was still very much infatuated with him and just maybe that little speech he'd just given her had made her insides twist and twitch.

She didn't open her eyes again until his hand slid back into her hair and urged her head back. She saw him looking down at her, his gaze had that same calculating coolness to it, not the raw lust she'd seen the times before. This was the Sherlock of the lab, the one who asked for Petri dishes and demanded the use of her microscopes. This was not the spontaneous man that had been in her home before. Her mental comparison stopped the moment his lips touched hers, chastely at first, just a simple press of lips but the moment he stepped in to press his body flush with hers, he deepened it. She couldn't help but pull away when his tongue slipped into her mouth. It had the same clumsy feel to it that she'd felt with her first kisses.

"Not so much tongue," she said immediately. He just nodded and pulled her back, barely tapping against her own this time. She found herself smiling and the expression must have registered to him because it was his turn to pull back slightly.

"Better?"

"Much."

"Good." And he was back again. This went on for several, long, amazing minutes but the moment he started to part her robe, Molly finally remembered herself and remembered that she couldn't just let him waltz in here, say a few well chosen words and get her on her back again.

"Sherlock, wait." And she stepped away, re-securing her robe about her. This earned her an annoyed groan from the detective.

"What is the problem, Molly?" She'd be lying if she didn't find the rough quality of his already deep timbered voice devastatingly erotic but she squeezed her fists together as she tried to keep her wits about her.

"It can't be like the last times."

"I said I can improve my form."

"That's not what I meant." She didn't think she could feel anymore flushed but the candid way he kept speaking about what was going on between them kept making her feel hotter and hotter with each word he spoke. "I mean you can't just leave."

"I left before because staying too long could have placed you in danger."

"Okay, that's fine but you can't do that again."

"So you would wish me to stay the night?"

"That's usually how it works." He seemed to ponder this for a moment.

"Done." Then he advanced upon her again but she just danced away. "Molly." The way he said her name sounded like a warning. This was not a man who was used to not getting what he wanted and she didn't know if she should be flattered that she was 'what he wanted' or if she should feel intimidated by it.

"I just…" but she sputtered out. What did she feel the need to say? Maybe it was his cold approach that had her on edge, that made her feel more like one of his experiments than it made her feel like a desirable woman. What did she want from him? A declaration of love? Even she wasn't that much of a romantic to think that would ever happen. Knowing that he cared for her, even just a little might be nice but she wasn't going to hold her breath for anything even that grand. So, what? "This isn't just a one off or anything like that?"

He smiled then but it didn't look like relief but rather the kind of smile you see when someone has won a game of some sort. "No, not a one off." He took a tentative step towards her and she didn't retreat again. So she was going to let this happen again. Why did she feel like she was missing something, something that could potentially make her feel very foolish in the future?

He tilted her head up with both hands this time and began to kiss her again. God, he was a fast learner. She moaned when he released her lips to instead attack her neck.

"Good?"

"God yes." She was so focused on what his questing mouth was doing to her neck and now earlobe, that she didn't even notice when he finally succeeded in parting the robe she'd been so diligent in keeping closed since he arrived. It wasn't until it was slipping off her shoulders that reality slapped her in the face once more. This was the most exposed she'd ever been. She caught the sleeves in her hands just before the entire thing hit the floor. When she felt him pull back enough to look at her while simultaneously trying to tug it off her, she practically shouted, "Dinner might be nice."

"Now?" He sounded breathless and she squeaked again when he used his considerably greater strength to yank her garment free from her clutches.

"Well, n-not right now but maybe next time."

"Hn," he replied entirely non-committaly. She didn't have time to think it over when his large hands suddenly covered her breasts.

"I'm always wrong about something."

"What?" she practically moaned out.

"They are definitely not too small."

"Oh. Oh! Gently." She said and immediately his kneading lessened in strength. "But that's very nice." She complimented when he lightly took her nipples between his thumbs and forefingers and just barely pinched them.

"Curious." No chance to question that odd word because before she had a chance, he'd leaned down and taken one taunt nipple into his mouth and applied suction as he flicked his tongue against it. She just moaned loudly. He released her with a pop.

"That was good as well?" She nodded, not trusting her voice to cooperate with her at the moment and the moaning continued when his other hand slipped between her legs and tentatively prodded between her lips. Suddenly he pulled away. "I need to see what I'm doing," he stated plainly enough but left her feeling off balance. He grabbed her wrist and pulled her along behind him. He might be learning what she liked but he didn't seem to think dragging her around her flat was a problem at all. If she hadn't been in some lust filled daze, she might have said so. Instead, she just let herself be led into her bedroom. He stopped next to her bed and let go of her hand. She stood there dumbly for a moment while he started on the task of unbuttoning his shirt. He stopped when he looked up to find her staring blankly at him.

"Well, lie down." When she didn't move right away or respond, he sighed and moved to kiss her again. Was he using those to distract her? She let him take her lips and her mouth again but he moment she felt him pushing her back, she sidestepped him. Did he just growl? It was just a groan of irritation but it almost sounded like a growl, comically so. He turned to face her again, about to say something as well, when she reached out and started unbuttoning his shirt, picking up where he'd left off. She didn't look up, too focused on her task, too worried that he'd stop her so she missed how his look of irritation melted from his features and was replaced by first surprise and then the look she'd seen the few times before. He stood perfectly still for her. That look was still there when she finished with the last button and let her fingertip travel up his stomach to his chest before running them to his shoulders, pushing the material off as she went.

That's when she looked up at him and saw how dark his eyes had become and when she noticed this was affecting him as well. Feeling particularly emboldened by his sudden change away from a purely clinical feeing partner, she let her fingers retrace their path back down to his pants. She maintained eyecontact as she easily manipulated the belt buckle open along with the button of his fly and then the zipper. Feeling like some fantasy temptress and very unlike herself, she oh so slowly lowered the zip before hooking her fingers into the waist of both the slacks and the boxers he wore beneath. It was his hissed intake of air that finally chased her eyes away from his. She saw his pants pool at his feet and saw that he was definitely interested in continuing.

"Lie down, Molly" When she didn't move right away, he followed it up with an almost desperate sounding, "Please." It seemed that clinical; 'Molly, I need your lab for the next five hours' Sherlock was no longer in the room. She almost felt guilty for how much better that made her feel, almost. She finally did as he asked and the moment she did, she wished the lights were turned off. She didn't have much time to worry about overexposure because he crawled over her as soon as he'd wrestled his shoes and socks off his feet.

He looked down between them and almost whispered his next words. "I wanted to," he hastily spread her legs with one of his own and one of his hands, "experiment more but I don't think I can right now." The confession made her smile. She reached up and touched his cheek, having the immediate effect of bringing his line of sight back to hers.

"Next time maybe." That's when something extraordinary happened; he smiled at her. Never once in all the times she'd known him had he genuinely smiled at her. It made him look infinitely younger, almost boyish. She snaked her other hand between their bodies, took hold of him (his gasp was immensely endearing) and guided him to her. He tried to push inside her immediately but Molly held him off for a moment, keeping a hold of him and running the tip of him up and down her slick heat a few times, partly to tease but mostly to coat him as much as possible to ease his entry.

"Go slowly at first," she said once she'd lined him up and released him. He just gave a quick jerk of his head to show he understood. Then, inch-by-inch, he pressed inside. His whole body seemed to be shaking with the effort and Molly marveled at how he seemed to be actually trying to hold back because of what she'd said. Her hand stayed between them though. She'd be damned if she was going to have sex with Sherlock a third time and not get her milk and cookies too. As he started to move within her, she took care of attending the little bundle just above the space he was filling so nicely.

She saw him look down between them, lifting his chest up a little bit for a better view. "Bloody brilliant," he said when he saw what she was doing. That's when he sped up. The two of them panted and moaned as they moved together. Molly continuously ran her free hand through his hair, down his neck and onto his back where she enjoyed feeling the play of his muscles clench and relax over and over again before backtracking once more. For his part, Sherlock absently massaged her hip with one hand, held himself up with the other and kept his head either tucked into her shoulder or stared down at the joining of their bodies.

It only took a few minutes before Molly was on the verge. The combination of his penetration and her manipulation did the trick nicely. "I'm so close," she moaned into his ear.

"Close. To. What?" Each word was accentuated by a thrust of his hips. She almost laughed at the question but didn't really have the concentration to devote to it at that moment. She only managed a couple words.

"Coming." When she wasn't sure if he knew what she meant, she went for broke. "Orgasm." His very long, low groan told her that he finally understood and it was that groan that sent her over the edge. Her whole body seized. Her head lifted from the pillow, her toes curled, she might have scratched his back and her whole world pulsed in white-hot pleasure. She distantly thought that she might have heard her name chanted a few times during her bit of bliss but couldn't be sure.

When her vision and consciousness came fully back to reality, she found Sherlock collapsed on top of her, breathing heavily, almost gasping but otherwise unmoving. She enjoyed the weight of him for a little while, too absorbed in the afterglow to find it uncomfortable in the least. He was the first to move, lifting himself back onto his elbows. His brow was drawn together as he looked down at her. She reached up and traced his cheekbones. He looked a bit uncomfortable so she pulled her hand away and decided to give him an out.

"I need to use the loo." He looked relieved to have a reason to move away from her. He nodded once and gingerly pulled his softening length from her before rolling off of her and onto his back. She cupped herself to hopefully avoid having to send her comforter to the cleaners, they really should have pulled it back but it hadn't been high on her list of priorities this evening. She trotted to the bathroom, took care of herself and then headed back to the bedroom, grabbing her bathrobe on the way. When she got back, he was still there. She couldn't help but be a bit surprised. He'd put his boxers back on, pulled down the covers and was partially lying under them. She slipped in beside him and they spent the next few minutes in complete and total, very awkward silence.

"Are you tired?" Molly finally asked.

"Not particularly."

"Crap telly?"

"God yes." He had his trousers and shirt back on and was out the bedroom door before Molly had a chance to put her robe back on.

"Well, at least he didn't leave." She sighed before heading to the kitchen for a glass of wine she desperately needed. He declined a glass for himself and by the time she sat next to him on the couch, he was already yelling at the people on the screen. They watched it in companionable silence until Sherlock abruptly turned to her.

"Better?" His face denoted nothing but strict seriousness. Molly finished her last sip before she answered.

"Much." It was almost comical to see the degree to which is entire body relaxed.

"Good." He looked back to the telly for a moment before turning to her again. "The times before you didn't…"

She shook her head.

"Right." He looked at his hands, seemingly finding his nails quite interesting. "If you hadn't touched yourself, you wouldn't have?"

She shrugged but then said, "Probably not." He pursed his lips for a moment before unexpectedly sliding to his knees onto the floor and settling himself in front of her.

"Spread your legs and show me."

Yet again, Molly wanted to smack herself for being surprised by anything his did. She gulped and wondered just what the hell she'd gotten herself into with this odd man. What she needed, however, was another glass of wine.

AN: Yup, I ended it there. Bwahahaha. This was a fun but challenging chapter to write. It's tough to write awkwardness so the last 10th of this chapter took almost as long as the first 9/10ths. Lot's of rewriting and scene changing. Also, I really wanted to write another smutastic chapter and getting Molly to agree without her being TO wishy washy took some figuring. Hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it!

Anatomydoc: Yes, yes he is. He'll try to rationalize everything. Anything irrational is going to be difficult for him to swallow, lol. I'm glad you've enjoyed it thus far!

MorbidbyDefault: That was my favorite bit when I wrote it. I could just picture it happening so clearly. Glad you liked it too! I kinda sorta went that direction but with a bit more buildup, lol. Thanks.

Mizjoely: I finally got back to this story. I've been busy with some non fanfic writing but needed a break to cleanse the palette so to speak. I'm so pleased that you'd all the reunion bits. I enjoyed doing John's because I've never read one from his POV before (I'm pretty much strictly in the Sherlolly fics so that might be why). I hope the aftermath of the door opening met with expectations.