I DON'T OWN ANY OF THE CHARACTERS IN THIS STORY!

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Chapter Six: Surprise!

"Do you see him?" Molly whispered and both she and Sherlock walked into the other sitting room. It was twice as full as the other and three times as full as the hallway. Its decoration was just as stunning as all the other rooms she had seen the gold leaf picture frames and mirrors were gorgeous. It was more like a small palace than a house with its hundreds of antiques and crystal glass everywhere.

"No. Do you?"

"No." the pair casually moved round the room. Sherlock got talking to people and so did she. It was a shame that she had to distance herself from them all. The ones that she had chatted with were really nice.

"And this is where all your money goes Molly." He whispered to her as they went into yet another room.

"My money?"

"The tax payers."

"And you don't?"

"Don't what?"

"Pay tax?"

"Sometimes."

"I should have known." Molly turned to him.

He hummed "Yes, Molly you should."

"It's just like I've been pluck up and put into one of Gatsby's parties." Molly took another look around the room.

"This isn't long island Molly, but I…" Sherlock was stopped half way through his sentence.

"That's Irene Adler isn't it? That's the Woman."

"What?!" 'What the hell is she doing here?'

"There. Look. Near the door in the red dress." Molly turned back so Sherlock could look. If they both looked it would seem odd.

Sherlock looked at Molly and then for Irene and back to Molly again. "Molly look at me." She did. His cheeky smirk had gone and serious coldness had replaced it. "Do not listen to a word she says. Not one." Molly only nodded.

Sure enough the Woman did walk over. And she did it with all the grace and beauty that she did everything with. Her voice ran like silk through both their ears as she said "Hello." Irene only had eyes for Sherlock and didn't even see Molly until he mentioned her.

"Ohhh." She looked Molly up and down. There was nothing to the girl.

"Hello."

"Molly? Oh you're his little pathologist aren't you?"

Molly laugh at Adler's attempt to embarrass her. "You could say that, though he is my pain in the arse too."

"Thanks."

"No problem. I'm going to get a drink, would you like one Irene?"

"I'm fine." As Molly walked away Irene watched her. However she notice Sherlock watching too with a big smirk on his face. "You are a dark horse aren't you. You and that mouse. I bet she's really great full each time." Irene had that look in her eye. She was looking for a fight.

"Jealous."

"If you want me to be…"

"I wasn't asking you Irene. I was pointing it out. You're jealous of Molly." Sherlock took another sip from his glass as he waited for her to speck. Irene could be slow at times, but this pause suggested that he was right. The 'Dominatrix' was jealous. 'This should be fun.'

"Me? Jealous? Of that?" Irene pointed in the direction of Molly who was now slowly making her way back towards them. "Why would I be jealous of that?"

"You are though. Admit it."

"No I will not! I will never be jealous of her." Molly now stud new to the pair. Sherlock throw a glance at Molly every so often to check on her as Irene continued her little rant. Irene never did know when to stop. "Sherlock." Irene said far more calmly than how she had been going on before. "The girl is engaged. And clearly loves you. You have to stop leading that little girl on. A mouse like her should be left alone to live her life with whichever ugly-faced weakling she has chosen to spend it with."

'You bitch!' Molly had been called mousy many times. She had been putting up with Sherlock's comments on her boyfriends for years, but this woman had no right to mention any of it. "Uhmm excuse me?!" She had had enough.

"You're still here? My god you must either be dumb or…" *SLAP!* Irene felt a stinging feeling run across her left cheek.

"How dare you speck about me like that. You and I have never meet before, save tonight, what makes you think that you can make any judgement on?!" Molly couldn't careless now if people could hear or were watching. In fact she hoped they were.

"Okay, not a mouse, a kitten."

Molly growled at her. 'This woman is unbelievable.' "Just one more word that isn't sorry and I will knock your block off."

Sherlock's eye widened and his mouth fell open slightly. Did he just imagine what Molly just said? Little Molly, his Molly couldn't be capable of that let alone the action. 'God I sound like her now!' his eyes didn't move from watching Molly when Irene told him to control his pet.

"Kittens have claws."

"What?"

It was just as well really that way her managed to see the full range of emotions that Molly went through just before she punched Irene square in the nose. It happened so quickly. One minute all was fine the next there was a ruckus of people. Men surrounded Irene offering her napkins and giving Molly looks of discussed. There were women looking at the two of them and pointing out what happened to the others who hadn't been in the room. The hostess was running around with a bottle of vanish, hoping that her carpet wouldn't be stained, clearly not caring about either of the two.

Molly picked up her things and walked out with Sherlock fallowing close behind her. However she was stopped at the door by an elderly woman in a light pink dress. "Well done sweetheart. She had that coming. But I must say I am disappointed that I didn't get the chance myself." The woman let go of Molly's wrist and smiled. She clearly knew that she felt terrible about it already.

The two walked out of the house and headed to get a cab. On the way back she turned to Sherlock after a long time of silence. "Sherlock, I'm sorry if I ruined your case lead, but that bloody woman went too far." Stated Molly. She didn't full look at him. She couldn't bear to see what his face would look like. The shock and discussed it would show.

"She deserved it."

"Really?" Molly was so unsure on how to act.

"Yes." There was a few more moments of silence before Molly lifted her head from looking at her bruised hand. He was laugh to himself.

"Why are you laughing?"

"Hmm or just 'kittens have claws'." They looked at each other and both laughed together.

"Oh god did. I really say that?"

"Yes. Te-tell me jus-t where did you learn to hit like that?"

"After Jim. Moriarty. I didn't feel safe so I started going to self-defence classes with a friend. Their actually pretty fun." She said, she was so happy she was forgiven and rather pleased that she had fought back for once.

"The friend or the class?"

"Both." She giggled.

…

The taxi pulls up outside of Molly's block of flats and Sherlock walks her up in spite of her telling him she would be fine. Molly opens her flat door and steps in.

"Goodnight Molly."

"Night Sherlock….Oh Sherlock." He turns around to face her again.

"Yes?"

"You do realise that I will not be able to make coffee for a good two weeks or so, don't you?"

Chuckling, he stepped towards her. He lent down and kissed her on the cheek. He had found himself doing that more often these days and had no idea why. But it felt right. "It appears you'll do anything to get out of making me coffee."

"That's my line." Molly's reply was entangled with her giggles, but it was clear enough for him to understand. They both laughed and then he said his goodbyes again. Leaving Molly to tape her knuckles and relax, or at least try to.

….

Sherlock spent the rest of that night in his mind palace. He found himself heading to the room that Molly had claimed. But as he went to unlock it, to his surprise it was already open. 'Another thing that will upset her majesty next door Molly.' It would seem that The Woman was not the only one who messed with his head.

There Molly sat on one of the cream shaselongs with an air of royalty to her. She was wearing the blue dress that he had bought her. Though this time it had grown in length and was now draped across her tucked-up legs. There is no tape on her hand it seems perfectly fine. He goes to sit beside her. All the lights are off and the only light he has to see with is the glow of the roaring flames from the fireplace.

While he knows the door is shut he keeps looking over to check it and is glad every time he sees it is still firmly shut. Molly gently cups his right cheek and slowly he turns to face her once again. For the first time in the whole of his visit to her room she specks.

"The door is locked. No one will come in." but just as she says that in waltzes Toby through the cat flap. Wherever that had come from. Molly laughs at her ginger tomcat's comic timing. Sherlock had always liked her laugh.

He opened his mouth to speck. "SHERLOCK!" Molly shouted and Toby jumped off her lap. "SHERLOCK!"

*SLAP!*

…..

"Sherlock for god's sake wake up!"

"Wh-what's going on? Molly Why did you slap me? And why are you in my bedroom?"

"I'm sorry Sherlock, but I need you to get up and get dressed." He looked confused as he rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. Molly tipped the contents of the plastic bag that she held onto his bed. Multiple gossip magazines and a couple of newspapers fell out. She walked out not saying another word to him.

Holmes lent forward and picked one of the papers up. He sat straight up when he saw its headline.

"FAMOUS DETECTIVE ENGAGED."

….

When Sherlock finally appeared from his bedroom fully dress in his tight black suit and matching shirt as if he were in morning for someone. He seemed to be a more than a little confused and certainly more than a little angry. It was while in this state that he began to read one of the articles out load, something that he would not have done, however he had failed to notice that it was not just Molly that sat in his living room and so he continued.

"BOFFIN, Sherlock Holmes… Why is it always 'Boffin'?! …and DR Molly Hooper were spotted last night attending a well know officials drinks party hand in hand… Where the hell did they get that picture from?! There were no bloody cameras?! …A friend of the pair confirmed to us that the famous detective and friend where in fact a couple, saying 'She had always been his favourite pathologist.' The friend then goes on to say that they found it rather funny as they had always thought that women were not his type, especially after his ex-flatmate and their 'close' relationship.' …Oh for GOD'S SAKE!" That was it Sherlock throw the paper onto the table and went to sit in his chair, only to find Mycroft already there.

"What the bloody hell are you doing here?!"

"The same reason we are Sherlock." Piped up John, who was stud close to Greg. The pair had smirks on their faces. They clearly weren't taking this seriously. Mary on the other hand was as she sat by a distraught Molly and holding her.

He sighed. "I am sorry Molly."

"No." She lifted her head up. "I was the one who caused this. And here's the evidence." Molly held up her taped up hand tentatively.

"You think this was Irene Adler then? The one how gave the story to the press?" Asked John. It was amazing. The man would always find something obvious to say about anything and everything.

"Sherlock."

"Yes, Molly?"

"We were there looking for Moriarty. I know he wasn't there, but what if he is back? What if Irene tells him? What if he reads about it? He'll kill me! He hates you, but if he sees this he'll ha-have a-a-a way to-…" the doctor broke into tears at the thought of what might happen to her. Mary immediately brought her close.

Sherlock looked as white as a sheet. He really hadn't thought about Jim Moriarty in that way. Moriarty had underestimated Molly before, but maybe she was right. This time could be different what with 'their story' in papers maybe he would use her against him. With Moriarty there was no telling.

"Do not worry Miss Hooper we will have something sorted out for you by the end of the day." Mycroft stated as coldly and precisely as always. Mycroft did not do sentiment. In fact he made Sherlock look like a little boy that gets attached to everything. And he would often remind him of 'Red-beard'.

"What?"

"But for now Miss Hooper I believe you will be safer here. I will have somewhere arranged for you and your things, including your cat." He was not completely sure about Sherlock's feelings for her, but Molly was truly an asset to him. Her work was the finest her had seen and he had great respect for her on that account. "I'll take my leave."

"Thank you. Mycroft." He did not answer. He only nodded and left. She looked again at Sherlock who now had slightly more colour to him. 'What is he thinking of?' she wondered 'He clearly isn't in the room with us. What is he thinking about?'