We're nearly at the end now, just one more chapter after this one. Glad you all enjoyed the Christmas fluff last time round now on with the angst.

Chapter 7

Molly had enjoyed her Christmas at her mother's house a lot more than she had ever expected too. Her mum was so impressed with Sherlock and his decision to visit them and introduce himself. The fact that he was gorgeous, famous and immaculately well behaved meant he had outshone Tom in every capacity and he was all her mum could talk about.

Christmas Day passed off without a hitch but when Molly hadn't heard from either Sherlock or John by the end of Boxing Day she started to get worried. She didn't like to harass them and was conscious that they might be busy with the case and she knew Sherlock hated distractions, but there had been no response to any of her texts, not even from John.

The morning of her return to London things got worse. The news headlines were announcing the death of Charles Magnusson following an incident at his house on Christmas Day. Molly's stomach had twisted with nerves when she had heard this. She knew he was the man Sherlock had been trying to bring down and she had an awful feeling that Sherlock and John were caught up in all this.

Sherlock...please let me know that you are OK. Mx

John...are you and Sherlock OK? Please let me know. Mx

Mary...do you know if John and Sherlock are OK? Please let me know if you hear from them. Mx

She spent a fretful few hours on the train checking her phone for missed messages every five minutes or so.

As she pulled the door of her flat opened to find no Sherlock, no land line message and still no text messages she tried ringing Greg Lestrade to see if he knew anything.

'Hi Greg, hope you had a good Christmas. Sorry to bother you but I was just wondering if you had heard from Sherlock or John recently.'

'Hey Molls, well it was a good Christmas until I got called away from my wife to deal with the Magnusson murder.'

'Were either Sherlock or John there?'

'No, should they have been? MI6 were all over the place by the time we got there. I'm sure they know more about the murder than they're letting on. Could do with Sherlock actually, we're a bit stumped. Man had a lot of enemies in high places, kind of people who can make someone go away without it being traced back to them if you know what I mean.'

'Oh, OK. If you hear from either of them can you let me know, or better still get them to ring me.'

'Will do Molls. Have a Happy New Year.'

'Yes, Happy New Year to you too.'

She had one more avenue she could take but she was reluctant to follow it. She waited another couple of hours until she could stand it no longer.

Mycroft, I'm sorry to bother you. I can't get hold of Sherlock. Do you know whether he is OK? Molly

It only took ten minutes before the reply hit her phone.

Doctor Hooper. My brother is physically well but unfortunately finds himself in a good deal of trouble. He will be leaving the country tomorrow and is unlikely to return. Mycroft

Molly's hands trembled as she read and reread the message. Tears sprang into her eyes, 'oh Sherlock, what have you done?'

Mycroft, is there nothing you can do to help him...please? Molly

There are limits to even my power Dr Hooper and my brother has gone beyond them. Mycroft

Are you able to get a message to him? Molly

I am.

Tell him..tell him I love him. Molly

Molly had tears streaming down her face as she hit send. This couldn't be happening. She couldn't lose him now, not after everything, not after they had finally got together and she had finally seen a future unfolding for them.

It was half an hour before there was a ping from her phone.

My brother returns the sentiment and send his apologies. Mycroft

Molly's fingers traced across the message. So cold and yet so perfectly Holmsian.

MHMHMHMHMHMHMHMH

The last 24 hours had passed in a blur for Molly. For the first time in years she'd phoned in sick telling Mike she wouldn't be in until after New Year.

She had spent most of the time either slumped on the settee with a glass of wine or in bed. She was alternating between tears and anger and frustration. Her phone beeped once and her heart rose before plummeting again.

Sorry, just got my phone back. Mycroft tells me you know. Will come and see you when I'm back in London. Sherlock leaves in an hour. Don't know how we'll cope but we'll have to. John x

She felt so impotent, racking her brain trying to think of something she could do to keep him here with her, but there was nothing. She just kept going round in circles.

In the end she decided to shower in an effort to try to feel better and watch the news to see if there were any clues, anything that mentioned either Sherlock or Magnusson.

The shower worked a little bit, it was nice to feel washed clean. She wrapped herself up in a comfy dressing gown, damp hair loose around her shoulders. Her eyes still looked puffy from crying but her face had a little more colour. She was in the kitchen contemplating whether to have a glass of wine or a cup of tea when she heard the sound of a key in her door.

Her breath caught in her throat as her eyes scanned the kitchen looking for a weapon. She ended up sliding one of the knives from the knife block in the kitchen side before peering round the door of the kitchen only to see Sherlock entering the flat.

Molly's initial thought was that she was hallucinating, that somehow in her grief she had conjured up an image of him. She slumped against the door frame knife loose in her hand. She could see black spots in front of her eyes and realised she was on the verge of passing out.

She was vaguely aware of Sherlock rushing forwards catching her around the waist with one arm as he took the knife from her hand with his other.

She looked up into his concerned gaze, his eyes were so strange, she couldn't decide if they were blue or green, there were even flecks of gold sometimes, they were so beautiful.

'Molly, stay with me, you need to take deep breaths.'

She loved the sound of his voice, he could send shudders down her spine with that voice, arouse her with a single word. She took a deep breath as he'd asked and blinked once, twice.

'Sh..sherlock, is it really you?'

His eyes rolled, 'yes Molly, it's really me. Who else am I likely to be?'

She started to feel her legs again, taking some of her own weight on them. Sherlock didn't let go though, if anything he held her closer. He placed the knife onto the side and used his hand to stroke her cheek.

'I'm supposed to be heading to Mycroft's for a conference call about Moriarty but that can wait. I...I needed to see you.'

'Are you still leaving?' Molly was surprised by how small her voice sounded. It felt as though her whole world was holding its breath as she waited for his answer. 'No, no, I'm staying right here.'

'You owe me so many explanations...but not now, later, for now I just want you to kiss me.'

Sherlock smiled, 'I think I can manage that.'

He caught her lips with his own and she snaked her hands under his coat pulling on the muscles of his back pressing herself against him.

As he deepened the kiss she felt herself growing faint again but just didn't care. She felt as though she could kiss him for weeks and it still wouldn't be enough.

She heard a thud and realised he'd shrugged out of his coat and jacket and somehow she was sat on the kitchen side with Sherlock between her thighs. She leant back as he opened her dressing gown and palmed her breasts. 'God, Molly you have no idea how beautiful you are right now.'

He leant down and sucked her nipple into his mouth rolling his tongue over it repeatedly. His other hand was lightly twisting and pulling her other breast.

She used one hand to hold him closer feeling his curls between her fingers, her eyes closed and her mouth opened.

He kissed his way back up to her mouth and she felt his hand slide down to her thigh, his thumb circling her clit. How had she not realised that she was naked?

She was too aroused to be in any way embarrassed. She pushed herself against him, her hands unbuttoning his shirt eager to feel his skin against hers.

He broke off momentarily to help her remove his shirt and then he was pressed up against her, skin on skin. She felt his fingers slide into her, his thumb circling her again. She was rocking against him desperate to feel more of him. His tongue was in her mouth fighting with hers for dominance.

She could feel her orgasm starting to build and slid her hands down to his trousers.

Again he pulled back from her helping to undo the buttons and zippers. At that moment the sound of his zip was one of the sexiest things Molly thought she had ever heard but the feel of his hardness pressing against her entrance made all other thoughts disappear.

He had one hand on her face, the other on her hip as he slowly slid inside her. She watched his eyes close at the sensation of filling her. She brought her own hand to his face tracing his eyes, his nose, his mouth before kissing him as he slowly moved inside her.

It wasn't long before her orgasm started to build again. Her legs were locked around Sherlock's back, her hands in his hair tugging lightly groaning into his kiss.

Then she was coming, calling his name, crying out, nails scraping his back and his scalp.

She felt him faltering in his pace and knew he was close. He pulled her to the edge of the counter and slammed into her again and again and she heard him call her name, 'fuck, Molly, oh...' He shuddered as he came and she held on still coming down from her own orgasm.

They stayed locked together for a few minutes, breathing heavily, hands still sliding, touching as they kissed each other over and over.

Molly gradually became aware of Sherlock's phone ringing and seemed to recall she had been hearing it ring as they'd been having sex.

'Just ignore it, I am. It's only Mycroft trying to hunt me down.'

Sherlock smiled down at her as he withdrew. Molly felt suddenly empty, anxiety gripping her stomach. She couldn't bear to lose him again.

She pulled the dressing gown back on tying the belt as she watched Sherlock pick his clothes up from the floor and start to redress.

As he pulled on his jacket he looked at her, mouth open as though he were about to speak but he halted staring at her, eyes narrowing in that way that told her he was deducing her.

'Get dressed.'

Molly looked up at him surprised, 'what?'

'I said get dressed. You're anxious, you think if I leave this apartment I'm leaving you and you might not see me again. So I want you to come with me, so you know what's happening.'

Molly smiled at him happily as she ran off to the bedroom.

So angst followed by satisfying sex the great fanfiction combination. If you're enjoying it (the story not satisfying sex) you know what to do, review or favourite or follow.