Sherlock woke early the next day. John and Mary had each taken the day off, because they were worried about Molly. As John opened the door Sherlock shushed him and gestured to his bedroom door. "How long are you going to let her sleep Sherlock," John said as he sat at the kitchen table. He watched Sherlock messing around with an eyeball. "As long as she needs I suppose. Mrs. Hudson wants her to stay at Baker Street. At least for now," Sherlock said quietly. "John, what is it?" John shifted nervously and glanced into the living room where Mary was intrigued by many of Sherlock's things. "Best man Sherlock. I want you to be my best man at the wedding," John hurriedly said. Sherlock stared at him in disbelief. Silence encircled the pair for several minutes, "So, I'm your best friend?" John smiled at his friend, "Yes, of course Sherlock." "I didn't even think I would be invited," Sherlock mumbled before looking away from John. "What? What was that?" Before Sherlock could answer, Molly had entered the kitchen with Mary, she was still wearing only his shirt. "Ah, good morning Molly. How did you sleep," Sherlock asked as he made note that the dark circles around her eyes were gone, she smiled a little brighter, and her stance a little more confident. Molly gave him a smile as Mary whispered something in her ear. Molly's jaw dropped as she glanced from Sherlock to Mary.

"Come along Molly," Sherlock shouted at the door of his bedroom. She had been getting ready for nearly 15 minutes now. "Patience Sherlock. She is a woman," Mary said. Sherlock scoffed at her and started pacing. "Do you think she would be good for him," John whispered to Mary as Sherlock started playing his violin. "I think she will be perfect for him. We just need to get him to be less machine and more human sweetheart." John leaned over and kissed Mary on the cheek as Molly walked out. Her face fell slightly, as she glanced at Sherlock to avoid looking at the happy couple, "Are you ready Sherlock?" He spun around and headed out the door without saying a word. As Molly started to follow, John stopped her, "Give me your keys. Sherlock and I can get your things and I'll drive your car back here. Mary would like some time to talk with you." Hesitantly, Molly handed her keys to him and explained each key and what she absolutely needed.

As the boys left, Molly sat in Sherlock's chair across from Mary. "You wanted to talk to me?" Mary smiled at her and rubbed her knee, "Don't give up on him. He does care about you. I know he can be awful, John has told me some of the things he said to you, but John also told me that you were the first person he ever heard Sherlock apologize to. Chin up Molly. John and I are going to bring him round yet." Molly gave her a smile, "I don't think Sherlock is capable of anything more than sort of friends honestly." Mrs. Hudson entered the room followed by Mycroft. "Women in my brother's flat. Never thought I would see the day." He held out his hand to Mary. "You must be Mary. Sherlock told me all about you. Good to see you Molly. Now, where is my brother?" "He's at my flat. Getting some of my things," Molly's voice quivered slightly. She had always been scared of Mycroft. "Ah, well, do tell him I stopped by." Molly could feel Mycroft deducing her, so she decided to have a bit of fun with him. "Of course Mycroft. Sherlock has been absolutely wonderful since he came back. He let me stay here with him last night." Mary, soon caught on to what Molly was doing, "Yes, and the four of us are going out to dinner later. Care to join us Mr. Holmes?" Mycroft stared at Molly. He tried to find a tell that she was being less than honest with him, but it would appear she were telling the truth. He stood closer to her, causing her to look up at him. To his surprise, he smelled his brother's cologne on her skin. "I think I will have to pass on your invitation Mary. Good day." Once they heard the front door close and Mycroft's car start, they erupted into a fit of giggles. "How long until he calls Sherlock do you think," Mary asked as she stood up and headed into the kitchen to make lunch for her friends.

John opened the door to Molly's flat, "Nice place they got. Don't you think Sherlock?" John glanced over at him. "Yes. Too nice. Molly doesn't like flashy things except when she is trying to be noticed." John stared at him puzzled, "How could you possibly know that?" Before he could answer, Sherlock's phone started ringing, "Yes, what is it?" "Is it true that Molly Hooper stayed at Baker Street last night," Mycroft's voice came through the speaker. "She did. Why does that matter?" "No reason, I just saw that her fiancé had been arrested last night, apparently at your flat, and then I arrive there looking for you, and come to find out that you have a dinner date with Mary, Molly, and John tonight. I thought you weren't getting involved brother mine." Sherlock stared at John before turning his attention back to Mycroft, "I don't know anything about dinner Mycroft. Tom, or rather, Theodore, was arrested last night at my flat because I lured him there by using my scarf and Molly. Lestrade arrested him and Molly wasn't murdered. Do you really think I wanted my next case to be one of my—" Sherlock paused before saying, "colleagues." Mycroft was silent for a moment, and only began speaking again when prompted by Sherlock, "Sherlock, those people you associate with are more than colleagues. Sentiment does not give you an advantage." Sherlock could feel himself shaking with anger, "I am busy. Molly needs things from her flat. She would rather wear her clothes than mine. Can't say that I understand why, her choice in jumpers is atrocious sometimes. Good bye Mycroft." He hung up the phone without waiting for a reply from his brother.

"So, Sherlock. Have you ever had a girlfriend," John casually asked as he packed away Molly's clothes into boxes. He and Sherlock had decided to empty the flat of her things entirely. Occasionally John would send a picture of something to Molly to ask who was the rightful owner of it. "Hmm? No. I always found the idea rather silly. I had offers, yes. No one ever matched intelligence and held my attention long enough," came the reply as he pulled shirts out of the closet. "Irene did," John pointed out as he flipped through a scrapbook Molly had made that covered everything about her working with Sherlock, and the end had a newspaper clipping about his suicide. He quickly hid it in the nearest box. Sherlock would have been cruel to her had he seen it. Sherlock stiffened at the mention of The Woman, "She was also a traitor." John's phone chirped in his pocket.

Work on getting Sherlock to actually see Molly.

3

M

John placed his phone in his pocket after typing out:

Molly Hooper, maid of honor? They would have to work together to help us a lot.

"Sherlock, what about Molly," John asked as they carried the first of the boxes to her car. "What about her," Sherlock questioned. "Well, she likes you, and you can't tell me that you don't like her. She was one of the only people you confided in when you disappeared. You spent an entire day with her once you got back. Clearly she is important to you." Sherlock flushed and stumbled going up the steps, "Molly is a good friend." He worked in silence the rest of the time at Molly's flat.

Once they arrived back at Baker Street, Sherlock found it hard to concentrate. His mind kept wandering to what John had said about him and Molly. He jumped slightly when Molly placed her hand on his shoulder, "Thank you Sherlock. This means a lot to me." He slowly stood up and turned to face her. Slowly, he began deducing her. His mind was foggy, and kept taking him into uncharted feelings that he didn't understand. Before he realized what he was doing, he had laid a hand on her cheek and was drawing circles on it with his thumb. When he finally snapped back, he jerked his hand away. "I am sorry for that Molly," he said before casually walking into his room. Molly looked at Mary who mouthed, "Follow him."

Molly knocked on his door, "Sherlock? Can I come in?" When she didn't get a reply, she almost turned and left, but instead her curiosity won out and she quietly opened his door. He was curled up in bed with his eyes shut. Molly assumed he had retreated to his mind palace. "Sherlock? Can we talk?" She sat on the bed next to him, causing him to jump. "Molly! I was thinking. What are you doing in here?" She took a deep breath and for the first time, she wasn't scared to talk to Sherlock Holmes, "Sherlock," she started, "Mary asked me to be the maid of honor. So I guess we will be doing a lot of work together." She mentally scolded herself for not asking him out right there. He glanced her way, "Congratulations Molly. Are you ready to go back to work? I need the lab and those women in there stare at me too much." She let out a giggle, knowing that half of them wanted to shag him, and the other half couldn't wait to see his body on that slab. "Sure, we can start tomorrow." She closed the door as she left. Sherlock sighed before ruffling his hair and following her out.

The next morning, Molly offered to drive Sherlock to the hospital with her, but he declined, not wanting to cause more rumors to start. He arrived at the lab about thirty minutes behind her, a box filled with different things he planned on examining. Molly had already made his coffee and had it waiting for him once she received a text saying he was on his way. Her hair was parted to the side and she wore a light shade of lipstick, trying to remember all the compliments Sherlock had paid her. He nodded and thank you to her as he sipped on the coffee. A few hours passed with Molly coming into the lab to check on him every so often. Around 1, he was packing up when she came in. Her heart fell slightly; she wasn't ready for him to leave, "I'll see you at home. We can get you situated in John's old room." "Yeah, that would be great. Thank you again Sherlock." She turned to leave when Sherlock grabbed her hand, "Molly, um," he looked into her eyes, very flustered, "It'll just be us tonight, I have a DVD player in my room. Mrs. Hudson said the last tenants left it there, God only knows why I kept it. Would you, like to watch a movie with me? I know you have plenty." He was mentally kicking himself for even taking John's advice. How was he supposed to know what "cuddling" was? Molly could feel the pink rising in her cheeks, "That would be wonderful. I'll pick us up some supper." He leaned in and kissed her cheek, but his lips hovered a moment too long. When he stood back up his cheeks were a shade darker than what they normally were. The rest of the work day passed without much being done, because Molly was thinking of her Sherlock.

Just before Molly's work day ended, Sherlock sent her a text, You always counted. SH

"Mrs. Hudson! Mrs. Hudson," Sherlock shouted from the top of the stairs. "What is it dear," she asked suspiciously. She had taken on an even bigger mother role for Sherlock since his return. "I need, something," he said confusion spilling from every part of him. "Is it about Molly," she gave him a knowing smile. "Yes! We are having dinner tonight here, and watching a film. I want it to be special, but I don't know how." Mrs. Hudson clapped her hands together, "I'll go pick you up some wine and some flowers. Be back in a jiffy." He watched her as she hurried out the door. When he re-entered the flat he began slapping himself in the face. "Pull. Yourself. Together," he told himself with each smack. He only stopped his mental abuse when he heard Mrs. Hudson arrive back at the flat.

"Here you are dear. I picked up some candles too," she told him as she started cleaning up the clutter. "Candles? Why candles? Are we planning on having a power outage again," he asked picking up the box of candles suspiciously, noting that they were rather expensive if that was to be their use. Mrs. Hudson laughed, "No silly, put those in your room and light them before you watch the film, she will love it." Sherlock rolled his eyes before carrying the candles and wine to the bedroom. Molly arrived shortly after Mrs. Hudson had returned downstairs. "Evening Molly. I trust work was well," Sherlock stated as he took her coat, practicing the motions and words Mary had told him to use around Molly. "Yeah, it was great. I brought noodles. I know that's your favorite." She held up the take-out boxes. He gave her a genuine and rare affectionate smile before helping her serve out the food. "Pick a movie, and I'll go get the telly ready." He grabbed both plates and carried them into the bedroom. Once he closed the door with his foot, he set the plates on the trays he had borrowed from Mrs. Hudson, poured the wine, and lit the candles. He had just finished when Molly walked in.

Her hand flew to cover her mouth as she looked around his room, "What is all this?" He embraced her tightly, "Just my way of saying thank you Molly Hooper. Now, what are we watching?" He wrinkled his nose when Molly held up "Leap Year." "Sorry, I love romantic comedies," she said as she blushed. Without responding, Sherlock took it from her and put it in the DVD player. For the first thirty minutes of the film, they sat in silence. Sherlock had already figured out the ending, but for Molly's sake, he remained quiet, just as John had said to. Without realizing what he was doing, Sherlock wrapped an arm around Molly's shoulders. He was just about to apologize and pull away, but Molly curled up next to him and laid her head on his chest. He looked at her puzzled and thought about text John to ask what he should do, but his phone was in the pocket nearest Molly. Sighing he adjusted himself to be more comfortable.

At the end of the film, he switched the telly off with the controller, "Molly, that was…interesting." He waited for a reply. When none came, he shifted himself so he could see her face: she was asleep. He checked her breathing and pulse and decided that she had been sleeping for about 20 minutes. Sherlock began trying to figure out the best way to get out from underneath her, but found none. She had not only been laying on his chest, but wrapped her right arm around his middle and intertwined her legs with his. Grumbling quietly Sherlock slowly moved into a position where he was able to be comfortable enough to fall asleep and began to drift off.

The next morning was a Saturday, and John popped in unexpectedly. When he didn't find Sherlock asleep on the couch or Molly up making breakfast, he decided to check the bedrooms. He became worried when he didn't find Molly in his former room, but was somewhat relieved to find Sherlock in his proper bed for once. He stepped in to wake Sherlock, but when he got closer, he realized that Molly was lying next to him, and they had obviously been there awhile, since they were both in yesterday's clothes. John snapped a photo of the "couple" with his mobile and sent it to Mary. As he turned to leave, he heard Sherlock moving about. Quietly, he rushed to Sherlock's side of the bed and motioned for him to be quiet. Sherlock stared at Molly wide-eyed before shooing John out of the room. "Molly, time to get up," he mumbled into her ear. Her eyes fluttered open and she sat straight up. "Oh Sherlock I'm so sorry," she said as she raced out of the room nearly knocking John over. Sherlock sat up and stretched. He followed Molly out and grabbed her shoulders, "It is fine Molly, I promise." He wouldn't admit it, but that was the best sleep he had had in a long while.

XXX

So some Sherlock/Molly fluff, just because I was so eager to write it. If they have an actual relationship, it won't begin for a few chapters yet. Thank you thank you thank you THANK YOU for the review and all the followers! I had 12 in the first 24 hours! I know, this is a few days late, but I had to rewatch a few episodes to get a feel for Molly's character, and I couldn't seem to write Mycroft the right way, but I am mostly satisfied. Cookies for everyone!