Author Note: Thanks to everyone who is following and have posted reviews. If you haven't already, please R&R but please be gentle.

I am honestly in love with this chapter... I hope you guys love it too and don't throw too many tomatoes at me because of it.

Enjoy...

Disclaimer: Please know that I don't own these characters. The world of Sherlock Holmes belongs to Moffat, Gatiss, BBC and, of course, Sir A. C. Doyle.

After John went back to bed, Sherlock decided it would be best for him to scope out the Flower market. He had never been to this particular market before though he had walked by it many times on his walks throughout the city. Because of Molly's knowledge of this world of horticulture, flower shops, distributors, etc., he invited her along on this little adventure – as he called it. Molly was a little nervous about going out to some place where there would be so many people especially after her near panic attack the day before but with Sherlock by her side she felt she could pretty much handle anything, especially something so fun as the flower market. She, of course, had been many times and had even made friends with some of the vendors who had stalls there.

When they arrived at the market, Sherlock strode down the middle aisle searching for the café where he was to meet Joe in the morning. It didn't take long to find it and when he turned to comment as such to Molly, he saw she wasn't there. In a moment of panic for his lost companion, he looked back down the aisle and saw her in deep conversation with a man – a flower shop owner about five years her senior, hard worker, loved his job but not his business partner, left handed, dog-owner, and an ex-skier. Sherlock tugged his eyebrows together and thought about dragging Molly back to the task at hand but then the bloke said something to her and something he hadn't heard in awhile – Molly's laugh – spread down the row. She really seemed to be in her element and with her people here, he mused. He tilted his head at her - observing her for a moment - and decided it was best to leave her be while he did his work. He set about putting together a plan for tomorrow's meeting without a second thought of the brunette's absence from his side.

ooOOooOOoo

Molly laughed again and looked around to try and spot Sherlock. She knew she had lost him a while ago and she still couldn't see him again from where she stood. That quickly pulled her out of her conversation with her friend – Ryan. She looked at the clock that stood on the wall down the aisle above where Sherlock should have been and realized she had been talking to the flower shop owner for over 20 minutes.

'Oh my, look at the time. I better go see where my friend has gotten to.' She said as she leaned over and gave Ryan a hug 'It was so good to see you.'

'You too!' Ryan countered ' Be sure to stop by this week so I can set you up with that bouquet you said you needed.'

'Absolutely!' she smiled 'Bye!'

She turned down the aisle and walked to the café. There she saw Sherlock at a table in the corner looking completely bored and obviously waiting for her. But he had been nice enough to grab two cups of tea, which sat in front of him.

'Why didn't you come and get me?' Molly asked as she sat beside him.

'You looked like you were catching up with an old friend. I had no need to intervene. Besides I needed time to work out my plan for tomorrow so it worked out for both of us.'

'Oh – well… I'm glad it wasn't any trouble…'

'Not in the least.'

Molly and Sherlock sat amiably for a while finishing their tea and they started a rather strange game. Sherlock would point to a flower or a plant and Molly would tell him what it was. He was most fascinated with the flowers that had medicinal purposes – 'You never know when this might actually be useful.' He had told her 'definitely not something to delete.' This made Molly giggle – not just the thought of Sherlock running through a garden trying to find just the right flower but of him actually learning something from her and cataloging things that she told him.

As they got up to leave, Sherlock said 'Oh, I almost forgot…' He reached to the chair opposite of Molly's and came back with the most beautiful crimson rose. 'For you.'

'Sherlock – it's so beautiful. But what's it for?'

'What do mean? It's a flower. It's for… well.. decoration.'

' No, silly. I mean why did you get it for me?'

'It reminded me of you so I picked it up. Not only is it a rose – your self-proclaimed favorite, but it is also the exact shade of your lipstick.'

'My lipstick? I'm not wearing lipstick…' she said - her fingers going to her lips.

'You do do sometimes and when you do it's this color.'

Molly gaped at him for a moment as it dawned on her that he did notice… he did see her… even still after all he had seen of her after the attack… of her unending tears…he still remembered moments like when she would put lipstick on just for him. A tear escaped down her cheek.

Sherlock stepped towards her and put his hand up to cup her face – she could feel it tremor slightly in uncertainty – and wiped the offending tear away with his thumb. He left his hand resting there as he finished (and at that moment it felt like the most natural thing in the world for them both).

'I thought it would make you happy – make you smile – not make you cry. I must not have chosen the appropriate one.' He said quietly – his brows knitted together over his eyes which shone with worry and almost what seemed to be vulnerability.

She turned her head, closing her eyes in the process and kissed him palm 'No – this one … this one is perfect. You were perfect.'

Sherlock felt overcome with something he couldn't quite pinpoint and almost on complete instinct leaned in and pressed his lips to hers. He leaned back for a second trying to register her reaction. Her eyes opened filled with surprise but also of want and desire. She closed them again as he pressed his lips to hers a second time but this time with more force than before. With this kiss, she leaned into him. Her arms snaked around his neck and her hands slid into the back of his hair as he tilted his head for a better angle and better access. His tongue pressed the seam of her mouth and tickled her bottom lip until she let him in to explore. Her knees were like jelly and she swayed ever so slightly until his arm went around her waist pulling her close to his taut chest. She felt herself melt into his arms and a small groan escaped her as their lips wrestled and the fervor rose. Her mind was completely devoid of thought until suddenly one word popped into her head.

'John.' She whispered. 'No, Sherlock. No… I can't do this.' She said pushing back away from the detective 'I can't do this to him. God… I love you … I've always loved you but I'm in love with him… and I think he might just love me too. I can't pass that up like this. I know you… you are new to all of this but this.' She motioned between the two of them 'will break… will break his heart ' her voiced cracked 'and mine too.'

She looked desperately to him for some sort of response but he stood there over her like a statue – arms still at her waist - without an iota of understanding rolling across his eyes. 'I just… I can't…I just can't do this…. I've got to go.' She said rushing away from him dropping her rose in the process and leaving Sherlock standing there alone and stunned.

ooOOooOOoo

John came down the stairs buttoning up his shirt.

'Hey you guys ready for dinner?' he asked as he walked into the living room. There he only found Sherlock – who was spread out on the sofa with a red rose across his chest and his hands steepled together under his chin.

'Where's Molly?'

'Well, John, we were at the flower market and we, well, we…' His eyebrows knit together as trying to figure out what the appropriate thing in this type of social situation it would be to say ' had an argument of sorts and Molly ran off.'

'And you didn't follow her?'

'Trust me, John. She didn't want me to follow her.'

'Why wouldn't she then? What did you do or say to her to make her run off like that?'

'I think she needed some time and space to… sort some things out. That's all.' Sherlock said as he turned on to his side away from John taking the rose in his hands.

'Hmph' John grunted knowing that was for all intents and purposes the end of the conversation and all he was going to get out of Sherlock on the matter. He walked to the kitchen to make some tea and texted Molly.

Just woke up and Sherlock said you had left. You OK? – JW

John waited but no response.

Molly, I don't know what he said to you . It's obvious he upset you. But, please at least let me know you're okay.. – JW

Yes – I'm ok. Just need some time – MH

Ok. But if you need anything let me know… and if you went home, get that lock fixed! - JW

ooOOooOOoo

Molly had struggled just sending John that small seven word text. How was she supposed to ever face him again. She paced in her living room as she struggled over what to do.

She mulled the two men over in her mind. Ending up in the middle somewhere with the thought - But it wasn't like no one knew about her feelings for Sherlock – to her chagrin of course… and HE had kissed her and was so God damned romantic in a Sherlockian non-senseical kind of way – 'because it reminded me of you.' God, she still melted just thinking of that rose. Would John ever give her flowers based on her lipstick color? Probably not but he would still give her flowers and spoil her with love and feelings and things Molly wasn't sure if Sherlock would even know about let alone do. Sherlock was … well… Sherlock. If you enter into any type of relationship with him you kind of know what you are getting … but she loved that genius even though she could live without those rough edges he had… but John didn't have rough edges… all he wanted was for her to be happy and loved and safe.

She sighed – she really had no idea what to do. Three weeks ago she didn't have this problem.

She looked over to the door and sighed again. Of course John would ask about the lock. She had rushed home after the kiss at the flower market. She had needed time alone to think… to figure out what to do… not just with the fact that apparently both John and Sherlock had feelings for her but also struggling with the fact that though she felt completely safe and in fact in love with both of these men – what did that mean… was she even ready for something like that? She couldn't go out of the house without a panic attack – was she ready for something like this… she just needed time to figure all of this out. So, of course, when she made it back to her flat, her door was still not fixed. Why would anything go right that day... She went in and called the landlord only to find out he wasn't coming until much later that afternoon. Molly shook her head – well... nothing she can do now except wait. She fed and petted Toby and the grey cat and went into her bedroom closing the door behind her. She unceremoniously flopped herself onto the bed on her back and pulled her pillow over her head with a groan – seeking shelter from the outside world and where fate seemed to have taken her.

Just then she heard the bedroom door creak open.

'Back so soon, poppet? I thought you would have been out with Lover-Boy for at least another hour.'

Molly whipped her head up to see Jim leaning against the door jamb. She gasped and scrambled back towards the headboard. Once there she saw it – a gun hanging loosely in his hand.

'John won't be happy to hear that you've been so naughty' his voice sing songed as glee spread across his face. 'that's why it's going to be sooo fun to tell him.' He grinned down at her – scratching the side of his head with the barrel of his gun.

'What are you talking about? What do you want?' She yelped as he approached her bed.

'Oh, Molly. Sweet Molly. I just like to keep an eye on my toys and it looks like somebody's been playing with this one.' Jim said as he bent down and stoked her cheek only to slap it afterwards. She cried out as he reached his hand back to run her ponytail over his palm and grabbed it at the crown and pulled her head back.

'Did you forget who you belong to, Mollykins? Did you forget that you were mine?'

Molly trembled as tears rolled down her cheeks

'Jim – We broke up. I'm not yours anymore.'

'You'll always be mine, Molly.'

'If I was yours then how could you have allowed… how could you have allowed those men to … to have ... have raped me?'

'Who? Mick and Joe. Oh, Honey – I know… I know.' He patted her head in mock sympathy and sincerity 'Don't you worry. Daddy is taking care of them just like I'm going to take care of your new boyfriends.'

'No!' Molly sobbed.

'Now, come on, whore' Jim jerked her up off the bed, his arm around her throat and dragged her to the door 'We have a date with destiny and we've only so much time to get ready.'