Hi guys, here's the next chapter! Not convinced its my strongest one, but it's a good filler for what I have planned. Thanks again to the new follows and reviews, it really is lovely.

"I'd be lying if I said I thought you'd never give me a ring, Molly." Sat across the dimly lit table beyond her third glass of Merlot, looking desperately at her eyes, was Greg Lestrade.

It'd been two days since she text Sherlock, calling him a selfish bastard, and she was yet to get a reply. She knew they were still on a case, up in Glasgow, as a matter of fact, because Mary had called her last night asking if she wanted to meet up for drinks.

"Sorry Mary.. I've sort of got a date."

"What! Molly tell, tell, tell! Now!" Mary had practically screamed down the receiver.

Now here she was, feeling a headache come on from the wine, dressed in her classic black dress she wore to that Christmas party last year, sat trying to feel some sort of spark between her and the detective. Nada. She couldn't get him out of her mind. How could she? She found her mind wandering off thinking about his glorious hands, and how they moved across every inch of her body. How his mouth, his peachy lips traced every curve of her neck, her breasts..

"Molly?" Lestrades voice pulled her kicking and screaming from her thoughts. Realising she'd become quite hot under the collar, her hand made to way to touch her lips, she quickly decided to shake herself out of it, before Greg got ideas.

"Sorry, sorry. Miles away.." She cleared her coat and accidentally met Lestrades eyes;

"Erm, work, it getting..heavy. Can't keep my mind off it!" She laughed nervously, pleading that he'd accept the lie.

Clearly, he didn't. Running his hand across his shaven chin, he started, with a gentle smile on his face.

"Molly.. He won't love you back. He never will. Any chance you may think you've got with him.. You don't. Please don't think i'm being cruel, or insensitive, but, Molls.." He took her hands which now rested on the table before him.

"It's never gonna happen."

His words resonated with her, hitting home hard. What if all this.. That she had with Sherlock, the past few weeks, the 'I love you's", the cuddles.. What if it was just.. An experiment? She felt a wave of nausea come over her. Sensing this, Lestrade left her hands and waved the waitress over for the bill.

They stood at the cloakroom having paid, and Lestrade was busy giving the tickets I the attendant for their coats. Molly, still feeling morbid and somewhat sick, stood looking aimlessly out of the large window of the restaurant that opened onto Covent Garden. Not really focusing on anything, Molly's attention was all of a sudden brought to the figure of a tall man, looking in, directly at her. His was tall and slim, a long black goat and a blue scarf. A head of dark, luxurious curls. Meeting his blue eyes momentarily, Molly froze. They stood staring at each other. As she raised her hand, she felt her coat being placed over her shoulders. He has a good knack at pulling my attention astray. Molly thought, breaking the gaze from her lover and turned to face Greg.

"What you looking at Molls?" He said, smiling and fixing her collar.

"Oh I thought I saw er, Mary, outside. It wasn't." She added chirping somewhat.
Turning back to the window, Sherlock was gone.

As they left the restaurant, Greg being the perfect gentlemen and opening the doors for her, Molly slipped her hand into her coat pocket and slipped our her phone. Making sure Lestrade didn't notice, she opened the message waiting for her

I'm waiting in your flat. Do hurry up. -SH

Molly didn't know how to feel. Excited? Yes, most certainly. But the feeling of angry was still there. He still left her for a case and didn't tell her. They didn't part amicably either. Walking to the taxi bank, the phone buzzed again.

You look beautiful tonight -SH

Damn him, she thought. She turned towards Lestrade, putting on a brave face.

"Greg, it's been a lovely evening. Thankyou so much, it's always great to hang out with such a good friend." She dropped the 'F' bomb. His face responded accordingly.

"I'm really tired and I have an early start. Thankyou thought." She kissed his cheek to. E on the safe side, and got into the taxi rowing him an empathetic smile.

"See you, Molls."

She was stood outside her own flat door, hand resting on the handle. She had no idea what was about to happen. Standing there for minutes, she was about to open the door before it was thrust open before her. Ahead of her stood Sherlock Holmes, dressed in his typical well fitting suit, with a crisp white shirt, unbuttoned to the nape. They stood looking at each other, Molly furiously gazing at him through her eyelashes. His mouth began to open to speak, but she stopped it.

"Don't. Don't say a word." She said it with a bit more venom than she expected. None the less, she threw herself at him, throwing her arms round his neck and jumping into his waiting arms. Her legs wrapped around his waist and he held her steady with one hand, whilst shutting the door with the other.

Their lips were ferocious against each other, hungry and desperate for the few days they'd missed each other. Molly made quick work of discarding her coat and his own suit jacket.

Breathlessly, he carried her to the bedroom, whilst skilfully unzipping her dress and pulling the spaghetti straps from her shoulders. Their lips never parted until they fell on the bed and a deep chuckle escaped both their throats. Looking into each others eyes for the first time since they met at the door, nothing was funny anymore.

The rest of their clothes left their bodies in a haze, before Molly knew it, they were lying naked and panting on her bed. But, something had changed. They held each other as their heartbeats rested back to normal. They dipped under the duvet, Sherlock immediately enveloped Molly in his arms into a comfortable spooning position. His lips brushed her ear as he whispered;

"Molly, why were you with Lestrade?" He was kissing her neck and pressing himself into her, it was very distracting.

"Because I was trying to get your attention." Her body moved against his as she replied.

"Consider my attention gained Miss Hooper."

"You left me Sherlock. You left for a case and didn't even so much as text me for days." He stopped his kisses and her eyes open. He was silenced, so Molly continued.

"I was so worried Sherlock.. I thought.." Tears were welling in her eyes, she hurried her head in she pillow so he couldn't see her. He hugged her tighter to his body, soothing her and caressing her hair.

"Molly please.. Love please, don't cry." He tried to calm her but the tears were flowing fast now.

"Explain yourself then Sherlock please! For the love of God.. Explain.." Chocking back her sobs, Molly couldn't help the shocks rock her body.

"Molly I've told you before this sort of thing is new to me.. I don't really know how to behave myself. I didn't see the texts from you until the next morning, we were busy with the case and I got carried away.. Molly forgive me, I know now. I know what to do."

Molly's sobs subsided, she felt like she heard genuine sorrow in his voice. He had changed these past few weeks, and grown up somewhat. Maybe she was giving him too hard of a time.

"You'd better make it up to me Mr Holmes. I'm expecting great things from you." She said, the tears on her face now dry and the kissing on her neck resuming. Sighing with satisfaction, and the anxiety now leaving her conscience, Molly fell asleep to Sherlock's breath in her neck.

Morning came around and they had appropriately reaffirmed their relationship for at least two hours. Leaving their post coital bliss, Molly hopped into the shower just before there was a knock at the door.

A musical, whimsical knock, slight pressure on the knuckles. Sherlock began deducing immediately. Debating getting up to answer it, but curiosity getting the better of him, Sherlock pulled the warm bed sheet around his waist and moved towards the door. Molly must have slowed my brain, he thought. He knew exactly who was at the other side of the door, yet he neglected to listen to his mind and answered it anyway.

"Mol-" John's voice trailed off as his wide eyes looked Sherlock up and down, a million questions attempted to come out of his mouth at once.

"Ah, John. I think you'd better come in."