I don't own any of the characters in this story. next chapter has all the things you want from M rated ;)

Chapter Seven: Tom?!

Evening was beginning to set in and the car that was meant to pick Molly up still had not arrived. Sherlock was sat in his chair and had not spoken for hours. John had told her he may do that. But Molly had already got used to him doing that when he stayed with her for that sweet short while after the fall. So in silence she sat huddled in John's old chair reading one of Sherlock's copious amounts of books.

The sound of Mrs Hudson shouting Sherlock's name as she came up the stairs pulled Molly from her reading. Mrs Hudson tried her tenants name again, but it was no use. He was clearly deep into his mind palace, too deep to hear his land lady. There again he had once told her that he had selective hearing when it came to Mrs Hudson. Molly throw the cushion that she was cuddling at him. It hit him square in the face bringing him back into the land of the living.

"Mrs Hudson is trying to talk to you. Don't be so rude." Molly winked at him.

"What now Mrs Hudson?"

"Tom."

"What?" Molly closed her book, losing her page.

"John has just called. Tom had gone round to your flat Molly. When he saw you weren't there he went to find John. He has scared Mary and the little one half to death from the mood he is in. And now he is most likely heading over here."

Sherlock glanced towards Molly. He could see a slight wetness gathering in her eyes. Mrs Hudson also looked. "Oh, dearie. I'll make you a cup of tea. Calm your nerves." The land Lady left to make tea downstairs.

"Molly." Sherlock stud and walked over to her. "Don't worry."

"How can I not worry Sherlock? I told you this would happen. He has such a temper." Two tears began to fall from her eyes and then another and another until she was weeping into Sherlock's arms.

He could see that she was exhausted from today and needed sleep. He sent her to his room for the night. What was the point of sending her upstairs to sleep in a freezing cold room when his was not going to be used tonight?

….

When Tom did arrive Molly was fast asleep. Sherlock does not look up from his laptop when Tom tries to speak to him. And the only words he says in reply to his questions was a warning on not to wake Molly.

"I'm not here to speak to you. I'm here to Speck to Molly." He says as he turns to walk upstairs.

"She's not up there."

"What?"

"She's in my room." He sighed and stood. Holmes walked over to the younger man. "And I said don't wake her."

"Fine. You tell me. How long have you and Molly been sleeping with each other?"

"We aren't." Sherlock's manor was very lax which annoyed the other greatly.

"What do you mean you aren't? It's in all of the papers. She's been spotted wearing a ring and she's sleeping in your bloody bed!"

"Spotted once and that was on a case."

"But why is she sleeping in your bed?"

"Because she was terrified of what you would do when you found out about all this. So she came to me. She has spent most of the last two hours before you came crying about this mess and how you were on your way. She was exhausted. I was not going to send her up to a cool room when the one down here is far warmer and will not be in use tonight." Holmes had had enough of Tom. "Now can you see why I want you not to wake her?!" this last sentence was throw gritted teeth.

Tom was her ex and had been for months. What was it to him if they were in a relationship or not. It was no longer any of his concern.

…

At five o'clock the next morning the black car pulled up outside the Baker Street flat. A tale brunette gets out of the stairs. Sherlock headed to his room to wake the slumbering Molly. As he looked down upon her he could not shake the thought of her as an 'angle-like goddess.' Her hair was splayed across both of the pillows as she lay in the middle of the bed. Her small lips slightly parted, the sheet that covered her rose and fell with her chest as she breathed softly.

"Molly." He nudged her begrudgingly. She needed more sleep it had been rather late when she went to bed, there again he supposed she would have time to sleep in the new flat. "Molly." At last he manages to wake her at last. It is as she slowly comes round from her sleep that he notices that during the night she had taken off the pyjamas off that Mrs Hudson had lent her. And as she turned to face him he caught a glimpse of her creamy breast that had been uncovered slightly. She is too tired to notice such a thing.

"Time to get up Molly. The car is here for you." He said with a smile.

"Hmmm…I thought it was coming last night?"

"Apparently it got delayed for some reason or other. Anthea has brought you some of your clothes for you. I'll see you in a little while." He placed the pile of neatly folded cloths at the end of the bed and closed the door behind him.

Molly blushed at the thought of Sherlock seeing her white and gold lace bra that was inconveniently placed at the top of the pile. She turned to look at the bedside clock. "Five o'clock! You have to be kidding me?!" She hated getting up early on an average day. But a day like today, all she wanted to do was sleep.

Sherlock's guest threw off her sheets and rolled herself out of his bed. It was early, but once she was up she was up and there would be no way she would be able to get back to sleep again now. At least she had her own clothes to wear and didn't had to borrow any.

"Molly?" Sherlock knocked at the door. "Are you ready yet? We have to go."

"I'll be there in a minute."

"You said that ten minutes ago."

"Shut up Sherlock."

At last when she was finally ready Molly followed a slightly grumpy Sherlock Holmes down stairs to the car that had been waiting for her. Anthea looked up from her phone a moment.

"Miss Hooper, I have been told to tell you that your cat is fine and in the flat. Though off record if I don't get you there I don't think you'll have one anymore."

"What!"

"My brother hates cats even more than I do dogs."

"Oh." Molly got in the car after the tall woman. "Wait. He wouldn't would he?"

"Of cause not Miss Hooper. Not when his brother…"

"Oh don't started Anthea."

"Of cause Mr Holmes." The girl looked back at her phone and continued typing.

Molly whispered to Sherlock about Anthea. "Who is she?"

"Mycroft's secret Goldfish." He smirked and Molly tried not to laugh.

"Really?"

"Yes, Look at her Molly. Really look at her. What do you see?"

"Tall, brunette, brown eyes, smart?"

"No. Look at her. You saw it the second you stepped out of the door. You and Mrs Hudson are fantastic at it."

"At what?" Molly was utterly confused now.

"She is him. You and my land lady make judgements on people all the time. Often you're quite right even though you have no prove when asked to explain it. You saw she was smart, lacking in a social life, but doesn't miss it. Most likely an elder sibling. And of cause she is utterly at his disposal. My brother is power mad trust me. If he isn't the one in charge he throws a paddy."

This time Molly did giggle when Sherlock rolled his eyes. "So she is his Goldfish? I thought he liked...well I didn't think he?"

"Neither did I until I caught them."

"What?" Molly exclaimed. She hadn't shouted but at the level that they had been specking at it sounded as if she had. "Really?"

"Yep. And no I'm not saying anymore. It took me long enough to get those Horrible images out of my mind the first time." He loved her giggle. He loved the way she would bring her shoulders up and duck her head slightly. Did she know she was doing it? Trying to be cute maybe? He hated to admit it, but if she was it was working.

…..

Ten minutes later they pulled up outside of the flat that would now be her's for however long it took. It was far larger than her old one and far more expensive. "Wow."

"Meh."

"To you too."

"Come on before Mycroft decides to test the truth about cats always landing on their feet."

"Ha, if he did that there would be no way of getting away with it. None of his 'lackeys' could stop me."

"You really love that cat don't you?" The younger Holmes stated as they walked up the last flight of stairs to her flat.

"How anyone can like cats I will never know." Echoed a deep voice from in front of them. Mycroft stepped out from behind the slightly open door.

"Oh, brother dear. It is such a shame you hate cats. You would make a great bond villain. Go on say it."

"Shut up Sherlock." He sighed and looked passed his annoying little brother. "You're late Miss Hooper. I was expecting you…"

"Well that's close-enough."

The other brother growled. "Miss Hooper would you like to follow me?" said Anthea in a whisper from behind. "It looks like these two will be here for a bit."

"Oh thank you."

…

"I hope everything is okay for you Miss Hooper." Said Anthea as they came back to the living room. The flat was far bigger than she needed. It had two bedrooms, a large bathroom a good size kitchen and even an utility room. Anthea picked up Toby who was rubbing up her legs.

"Its perfect thank you. He seems to like you." Molly nodded towards the cat.

"He's beautiful. I love cats. Though my other half doesn't."

"I haven't met many men who do like cats." Both girls giggled. Anthea was rather nice. And easier to talk to than she had first thought.

"Well I should go. If there is anything you need Miss Hooper…"

"Molly."

"Molly." She smiled "if there is anything you should need Molly just ring this number. It's my direct line."

"Oh thank you."

"There would be no point in giving you any other, it seems like I'm the only one that does their job these days." Again Molly thanked her as both her and her 'boss' left. Sherlock also gave his goodbyes and left Molly alone to get use to the new place.