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"Sherlock..." John started, "We are no longer investigating. We are sitting some nice comfortable chairs, in your flat, doing absolutely nothing. Now, please, will you tell me what happened between you and Molly?"

Sherlock rolled his eyes, and shifted so the his legs were crossed beneath his body "What makes you think that...something...happened between us? I would simply love to hear your deductions!" His speech was thoroughly permeated with sarcasm.

John sighed, "Well, Sherlock, you were alone with a beautiful woman," Sherlock opened his mouth to say something, before John cut hum off, "And don't you dare tell me one more time exactly what you think about beauty!" He paused, "Now, where was I? Ah, right. You were completely alone with a beautiful woman; it's not unnatural to think that something could have happened between the two of you."

Sherlock sighed, "That is all speculation."

"But it's true, though, isn't it?" Sherlock didn't respond to his question. "Just tell me what happened," John prodded.

Sherlock pursed his lips and looked at the floor, before beginning in a whisper, "Please keep in mind that I would positively never, under any circumstances promote anything like sentiment by discussing so openly with another person, but as you-"

"Just please get on with it, Sherlock. We both know you want to tell me."

Sherlock wiped both his hands over his face, "Fine," he grumbled, "To tell you how this happened would take up too much of your time, and I know you wish to be with Mary now. Which makes perfect sense, considering the short period of time that you have been married; I really think-"

"Sherlock!" John interrupted, "I would like to get home by the end of the week, please."

"I got into a fight," he blurted out, "My face was badly cut up, and apparently I made too much noise when I entered the flat, because I managed to wake up both Molly and her cat, Toby. She came out of her bedroom in a mildly attractive night shirt, and asked me what on earth I was doing up so late," Sherlock stopped talking.

"And?"

"And...She turned on the light. After her eyes adjusted, she could see my face; she was quite alarmed. She murmured something about first aid, and rushed into her bathroom. I sat down in a chair at the corner of the room. A few seconds later she was leaning over me with her elbows resting on my knees, which was not an entirely unwelcome sensation. She started dabbing at my face with a damp cloth, and..."

"Yes, Sherlock?"

"John...Under no circumstances shall you ever repeat this conversation to anyone."

"I won't, I promise; just tell me what happened!"

"Well, as I was saying, she was leaning over me dabbing at my face, and I grabbed on to her wrist. Our faces were just barely a few inches apart, and it seemed like the appropriate thing to do to kiss her. After that, things just started to happen. I've never...felt...anything more pleasurable that didn't actually involve a murder or-"

"Things?" John interjected, "And you were on to my case about my ambiguity?"

"Yes, John...things" His face reddened darkly, "I'll leave you to your own deductions on that point."

John stopped to think for a moment.

"Sherlock? If Molly was in love with you, and you...kissed her, why aren't you two...I don't know, a couple?"

Sherlock rolled his eyes once more and scoffed at him, before saying, "Obviously John, I had to go dismantle Moriarty's network. I came back and she had Tom," he whispered more quietly under his breath, "How do ordinary people function from day to day?"

"Yeah, but what happened between the time you..did 'things'...and when you left?"

Sherlock's mouth hung open a few seconds before he answered, "We...Umm...Continued in that pattern for weeks. But then I...I couldn't think, John. I had to stop. I left. Tom came."

"Tom's out of the picture now, Sherlock."

"John..."

"What, Sherlock? Just what is the matter? There is absolutely nothing stopping you from getting that girl-a girl you would be lucky to have, and yet you're stubbornly refusing to do anything about it!"

Sherlock stayed calm, "When we first met, I told you I was married to my work. Don't you see how distracting it would be to have someone like Molly? Especially now that I have Mr. Cubbit's case? Besides, have you not ever thought about how terrible of a...boyfriend..." he scowled, "I would make? Not to mention what that woman does to my mind palace, it's really quite unnerving, not to mention-"

"Excuse me?" John interrupted.

"My mind palace, John. It's become a jumbled mess. I can't be with someone in that way if it does this to me."

"But don't you see that your mind palace is jumbled either way? It was like that when you had her all to yourself, and it's like that now that she's moved on from you."

Sherlock had no witty rebuttals for John this time.

There was absolute silence in the room before Sherlock said, "She hugged you. She's never done that to me."

John looked over at Sherlock, not quite hiding the grin he got from the confirmation of Sherlock's jealousy the day before, "Well, why should she? You would just push her away from you, right?"

Sherlock looked down at his feet nestled beneath his thin frame.

John sighed, "You know, it's not all that bad to have someone to care about."

"I already have someone to care about," Sherlock said while looking over towards John.

"Yeah but you don't have someone to-"

"Yes, I know!" He shouted, throwing his head back and closing his eyes.

They were both quiet before John chuckled, "Mycroft was right, you know. Sex really does alarm you."