A/N: This is a short chapter, I think, so I'm sorry. I was having trouble writing it because I just wanted to have them kiss and love each other forever and I couldn't do that yet and ugh. Thank you for all your kind words about the last chapters! I'll try to write two chapters tomorrow so that I can upload one over the weekend. xM

Disclaimer: Characters aren't mine.

"What do we do now?" Molly asked as soon as she was dressed the next morning. She had decided to disregard Sherlock's comment from the night before.

"Well," Sherlock began, taking a bite of the sausage that had arrived on the breakfast tray called up from room service. "We could go out, take a look at the town, see what there is to see..."

"What, just that? No experiments or chasing after a mad man with a gun fetish?" She teased.

"I thought it might be beneficial to see where we are. We'll be here for two days, as Moran isn't scheduled to arrive until Tuesday – he's got a meeting with an old client of Moriarty's."

Molly gave him a look. "How could you possible know that? And don't tell me you just saw his datebook. He can't be that careless."

"You're right, he's not." Sherlock smirked. "But the client was. We're going into town in five minutes, so get your coat. And, perhaps, put on some makeup. You look exactly like yourself but without the horrendous sweaters."

She laughed and rose to follow his instructions, hoping he hadn't meant to insult her appearance, only make a slight on her sweater collection.

Ten minutes later they were walking past boutiques and cafes on what seemed to be the largest street in the town. They had just bought sandwiches and were looking for somewhere to eat them Soon they came across a small park, sat on a bench, and ate.

"It's lovely here, isn't it?" Molly said happily as soon as they were finished.

"Almost as lovely as you." Sherlock replied with a smile. She laughed and made to kiss him on the cheek , but he turned his head at the last moment and caught her lips with his and Molly couldn't tell if it was purposeful or not but she didn't really care because holy shit she was kissing Sherlock Holmes and she didn't want to think about anything else.

All too soon for her liking, he pulled away.

"So, I was thinking for dinner we could go to that little restaurant we passed. What do you think, Clara?"

Molly tried not to let her face fall when she remembered that everything between them was a lie.

"Sounds fantastic!" She said, her tone as cheerful as possible. "Should we eat around eight?"

That evening they lay in bed, totally silent. Molly had a thousand questions bubbling up inside of her that she wished she could ask, starting with what he meant last night.

Finally, Sherlock spoke. "My apologies for what happened. Earlier."

"It's, um, it's fine." She said quietly. "I know that it was just-"

"I've never kissed anyone." He interrupted her. "Not until then. I'm sorry if it was unpleasant." He spoke sharply and he refused to look at her.

"Oh, god, no." She rushed the words out. "You were fine. Great, actually. I almost thought you really meant it." Her laugh was bitter. "What you said yesterday, was that just another lie?"

The detective frowned. "I'm not blind." He said. "You do look very attractive when you blush. But yes, it was a lie. That's not why I say what I do to you. I say it because I have a sick fascination with seeing how far I can push you before you snap, before you get angry. But you're always unfailingly patient and often kind." His tone was soft but the last sentence was full of some sort of amazement.

"I could get mad, if you'd like."

"No. If you hadn't noticed, I've stopped."

She laughed. "You insulted my sense of dress just this morning."

Sherlock finally smiled. "That is because I truly loathe your jumpers."

Molly pulled the sheets up to her chin and all was quiet, until "Why do you put up with me?" Sherlock asked.

Molly thought a moment. "Well, I respect your work..." She said without conviction.

He laughed. "Really, Molly. Plenty of people 'respect' my work and they still get quite angry with me."

She fiddled with the blankets. "Perhaps I'm just naturally more patient?"

"Really," he said with an eye roll. "I'd like the truth, if you don't mind.

"I do." She said, before flicking off the lights.