A/N: My apologies for the lateness of this chapter and the length of the other. I hoped you like the previous chapter despite it being really short. I have been really busy with Christmas and work so I'm really sorry. Also this won't be anything to do with season 3 Sherlock because of spoilers and so on. Do we think that Molly will accept his proposal or will she turn him down? Place your bets now and prepare for take off. As always I own nothing; it belongs to the BBC, Mark Gatiss, Stephan Moffat and Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. Enjoy!
Geronimo!
SM
Chapter 10:
"Molly, I always claim to be married to my work and that this really isn't my area. Many people have thought me to be homosexual with John but little do they know... Molly, my pathologist, my partner in crime. If I am married to my work then henceforth I am married to you because all my work leads me to you. So Doctor Molly Elizabeth Margret Hooper would you do me the honour of becoming my wife?" Sherlock mumbled, his eyes burning with passion.
"Sherlock..." I whispered looking at him with confusion. Suddenly sitting up I muttered ,"You don't mean that."
"I won't repeat myself, Molly." He replied as he sat up, his gaze turning icy.
"But I don't count." I stammered, turning to face away from him.
"Molly..." Sherlock said, placing a hand on my shoulder. I still faced away, refusing to look at him. "Turn around for me." He whispered, moving the hand from my shoulder to my cheek.
Slowly I turned, his face was inches away from mine. I could feel his hot breath on my face, caressing my lips.
He leant in and our lips met, the soft sweet kisses were laced with chocolate. Sherlock's thumb traced patterns on my cheek, the calloused pads surprisingly soft. His hands began to wind there way into my tresses like mine had to his. His silky curls cuddled my fingers which made attempting to move them very difficult. I just massaged his scalp instead; feeling his groans against my lips.
"Sherlock." I murmured, finally able to move my hands to his chest and push him away.
"Molly, what's wrong?" Sherlock enquired, his blue eyes laced with confusion,
"You...You...You don't mean it S...S...Sherlock," I replied, realising what had happened here "You have latched onto me because I'm all you have left..." I continued, trailing off at the end.
"Molly. My mousy pathologist." He said, his voice the one he used when he was with John. "You and your funny little brains... Of all people I thought you would understand, but clearly you have turned out to be just as ordinary as the rest of them." Sherlock said, his eyes cold and his face blank.
I sobbed as the final words came out of his mouth. I wasn't surprised but I was hurt none the less.
"Never." I mumbled weakly,
"What?" He asked, his brow furrowed.
"Never have you called me ordinary, not even with The Woman on my slab..." I uttered, standing up and walking towards the kitchenette.
"I'm sorry, forgive me." Sherlock uttered, standing up and following after me.
"No, Sherlock. You can't do this every time you insult me. I love you and if you love me Sherlock, prove it!" I cried, turning to face him.
He looked wounded, he opened his mouth as if to speak but stopped himself before the words came out.
"Well?" I uttered, expecting some retort about how stupid I was to fall for him. Surprisingly he just stood there. Doing nothing. I didn't know what to do... Should I call John and inform him about Sherlock being not dead? "Sherlock? Are you okay?" I asked timidly, thinking I had broken the consulting detective. I'm sure I had, he was just stood there. His eyes boring into mine. "Sherlock, please say something." I begged, preparing for an outburst.
"You said you love me?" He questioned, finally breaking the statuesque façade.
"I did. That's the second time, you were with your brother the first." I stated, treading carefully.
"When you broke Mycroft's umbrella..." He said, taking a step closer to me.
"Yeah. How has he coped with that? I asked, trying to lighten the mood.
"That umbrella has been in our family for three generations..." He replied, with a smirk,
"Oh, oops." I giggled, smiling at last.
"He deserved it." He stated.
It then fell into an uncomfortable silence, so I busied myself making two cups of coffee.
"Molly. I don't understand what I feel but I will try. Is that enough?" Sherlock asked timidly, looking like a vulnerable little boy. His blue eyes wide and soft.
"Yes. That is enough. I wouldn't expect anything else than for you to try." I answered, emotions audible in my voice.
"I can't promise I will change..." Sherlock muttered before I interrupted.
"I don't want you to change for me Sherlock. I fell in love with the sociopathic man-child you are. For a genius you can be so unobservant." I stuttered, looking up at him.
"I...I... L...L..." Sherlock tried to say.
I got up on my tip toes and pressed a soft kiss to his lips to silence him.
"I don't need you to tell me now. Whenever you are ready." I mumbled against his cupid's bow.
"Are you sure?" He enquired confused.
"Of course. I expect a ring when you come back from the dead..." I answered. Handing his mug and walking to my bedroom, Sherlock on my heals.
"So that's a yes then?" He smiled.
"Obviously." I replied, imitating him. His smile was infectious.
"Come on then Mrs Holmes." He announced, pulling me onto the bed and snuggling against me.
"Not yet Mr Holmes. You will be able to call me that soon." I mumbled, placing my coffee on the bedside table before I could spill it.
"Not soon enough."
A/N: I hope you enjoyed! Will be back again some time soon xx