Every once in a while I make her smile

He cursed himself a thousand times for letting John and Mary talk him into this.

When John finally made him realize that he was, indeed, helplessly in love with Molly, Mary was, of course, the first one to find out. After five dreadful minutes of dancing around, unnecessary hugging and shrieking out of happiness, it became two against one when it came to admitting his feelings to her.

And now, despite his protests and pathetic tries to convince them he wasn't in love with her at all, he was awkwardly standing in front of the door that lead to the lab. He would see Molly cleaning some tools. While she was leaning over the sink her long hair, pulled up in a pony tail, fell over her shoulder and she was wearing a red blouse, he much gladly noted, under her unbuttoned lab coat.

He nervously loosened his tie that Mary made him wear and then took it off, along with the suit jacket and threw them on a bench next to the door. He felt stupid for even being manipulated in wearing those in the first place.

He sighed once again and straightened his dark purple shirt (what did Mary say about it again? That it made him more attractive? How in the bloody hell can a specific shirt make you more attractive than any other?) and finally opened the door.

"Oh, h-hi, Sherlock," Molly said as she acknowledged his arrival – and stuttered when she acknowledged the dark purple shirt that made her head dizzy. But Sherlock, as observant as he was, didn't notice any of that. He was more distracted by the way her big chocolate brown eyes made his heartbeat quicken and he could almost feel his pupils dilate at the sight of her.

"Hello," he barely managed to say. He was a nervous wreck, for the first time since senior year of high school, and the low cut v-neck of that red shirt, which was lower than he thought, did not help at all.

"What do you need?" she asked politely. Even if she would be ever so speechless because of Sherlock, this question never seemed to be unwelcome with the tall man and she easily got used to asking him that question. "Um, your microscope is currently out of order, but you can use any other one."

"No, I don't need the microscope," Sherlock said and didn't even bother correcting her how the microscope wasn't in fact his, neither did he prefer it, but just got used to the one he was using almost all the time. "I'm just curious about something ... On a personal level."

"What is it?" Molly questioned. It wasn't often that Sherlock was curious about something. He usually had it all figured out.

"What is your blood type?" Sherlock blurted out, not really rethinking how he should work this out. In the end of a silent argument in his own mind, he decided to simply follow his heart, like Mary and John advised him, no matter how ridiculous it was. You can't literally make decisions while listening to your heartbeat, but his mind seemed to be one again blocked, so it was at least worth a shot.

Molly, on the other hand, was surprised with the question, though she didn't know why. She honestly didn't know what to expect him to ask. For Sherlock, a person's blood type seemed to be a personal matter.

"M-my blood type? Wh-why do you want to know that?" she unwillingly stuttered a question, to which she already knew the answer to. He needed a blood sample for an experiment. John maybe didn't have the right type, or he just refused to give his blood to him. So he came to the naive Molly, who would say yes before she even heard the question.

"Well, I'm working on an experiment," said Sherlock and watched how painfully the glee in Molly's eyes faded away, once he approved her suspicions. He could only hope his heart (he thought of that god-forsaken organ as it was the most evil thing in his body right now) had something better planned and let it go on. "I overheard John talking something about Mary filled his stomach with millions of butterflies – ludicrous, really ..."

"You have to tell her how you feel when you're around her," John advised him between the waterfall of other advises Sherlock noted as stupid. "For example, Mary makes me feel like my stomach is occupied with butterflies."

"... And she replied to him that her heart is filled with love she has for him, even when he's not around."

"And tell her how you feel when she isn't," Mary cheerfully supplemented her boyfriend's words. "Take my heart, for example, as it still hold all of my love for John, even if he would be on the other side of the world."

"And then I got to thinking," Sherlock said, while Molly was more and more confused by second, but, by the looks of it, in a more positive way. He started to trust his heart again, as he found her in a little better mood and continued. "My mind has lately been more occupied by you than anything else. In a way, I could possibly say you filled my mind. And by now I started to wonder ..."

He took another deep breath and only when Molly started to blush and as her pupils dilated, he realized he was now slowly walking towards her. In a corner of his mind, a voice that sounded much like Mycroft started to question him, whether this was even a good idea.

"What did you start to wonder?" Molly asked. Her eyes were wide and her pupils dilated, as she stood still, frozen up by his slow movements towards her. Her question encouraged Sherlock to man up, as John would put it, and finish what he started.

"I started to wonder ... What fills your heart?"

Molly smiled as widely as she could, as she heard those four simple words. She didn't let herself have time to rethink them and find a possible, non-romantic logic only Sherlock could attach to them, and just went with it. Her heart, already beating rapidly, started to dance around her chest and her mind became completely blank momentarily, only Sherlock's deep baritone and the most romantic thing he ever said ringing out in it. She was only barely aware of what she was doing – walking towards Sherlock, putting her hands on his cheeks, standing on her tiptoes –, until her lips collided with his.

Instead of the normal butterflies, the said creatures began exploding in her stomach and her heart not only skipped a beat at the gentle, though a passionate contact, but literally stopped for a few seconds.

Sherlock was taken by surprise, when the kiss occurred, but it most certainly wasn't unwelcome, which he proved by kissing back with passionate skills that made Molly moan as she felt him returning the kiss.

His mind, for the first time since he realized he could store many informations in it, erased every data saved in it. It was just Molly Hooper, Molly Hooper, Molly Hooper ...

His heart, however, was more than just preoccupied. It started beating faster than ever and the overload of the rushing blood in his brain made him dizzy and his knees became so weak he had to push Molly against the closest counter in the heat of their kiss, so they wouldn't fall over.

They finally broke away from the most magical twenty-eight seconds of their life, gasping for much needed oxygen, though they felt like they didn't need now want it moments before breaking apart.

"That was a nice turn of events," Sherlock commented with a breathless voice and the happiest smile. His eyes were still fixed on Moll's and she could see how his pupils were dilated just as much as hers probably were. "This is probably the best experiment result I've ever gotten."

"Well," Molly said with a low, strangely seductive voice, not sure whether she really just became this confident, or whether it was just the adrenalin talking, "maybe you could come by my flat after I finish my shift and you could get an even better one."

Her eyes sparkled with mischief as she watched with satisfaction how Sherlock's pupils almost swallowed his beautiful irises.

"I'd be most happy to," he said. Knowing this was his cue for letting go, he finally stepped away, making both of them feel cold without the direct presence of the other. After pressing one more peck on her lips (for the road, he thought to himself), he whispered: "See you tonight."

He started walking to the exit, when he heard Molly's voice once again.

"Oh, and Sherlock?" He turned around, gladly taking in her beautiful figure and blushed face.

"It's B+," she bit her lower lip as she smiled again. "And you."

(A/N: here it is – finally! Sorry for the delay, but I was a bit preoccupied by my current personal writting project (yes, I'm writing a book, if you're wondering) and you can't imagine my furry, when, in the middle of rewriting this chapter (I had it in a notebook) and writing my first chapter, my dad so nicely confiscated my computer for a few days -.- but, enough of my nagging, let's be glad for the main fact of this chapter, and that is that Molly and Sherlock got together! The last line Molly said might have been a bit cheesy, but that is exactly how I imagined it :P)