A/N: Hey, so here's the new chapter. I hope you like it. Please review and let me know ;)

Disclaimer: I don't own Sherlock.

"Okay, John. I'm prepared to take your advice. What do I do?"

John looked up from his newspaper in shock to see his best friend and flatmate standing in front of him with a resigned expression covering his face.

"I'm assuming you're talking about Molly, since you'd never stoop to asking my advice about anything else. I think women are probably the only subject you'd be willing to admit you have no expertise in."

Sherlock opened his mouth to make a snappy retort, but then remembered the incident with Molly only three days ago and thought better of it.

"Yes, this is about Molly."

John laughed. "What, no witty comeback? You must be serious about her if-"

"I am."

The intensity in Sherlock's voice wiped the smirk right off of John's face.

"Right. I see. Well, in that case, I already gave you my advice."

"That was hardly advice, John," Sherlock scoffed. John rolled his eyes and put his newspaper down on the coffee table, sensing this was going to be one of those long conversations where he had to teach Sherlock what 'normal' people do.

"Sherlock, talking to her and just laying everything out on the table is the best thing you can do. You have to be honest with her, and you can't play games. Women don't like that, and given your track record with Molly and how you've manipulated her in the past, I don't think she'd appreciate you toying with her emotions."

Sherlock glared at his friend. Did everyone have such little faith in him as to believe he was completely heartless?

"It wasn't my intention to string the girl along, John. I plan to make my feelings known. I was just wondering if there was a less outright way to do it," Sherlock spat out. John's face scrunched in confusion.

"Oh, I, uh, guess that's okay, then. Why don't you want to just tell her? I would have thought you would want to go about this the most efficient way possible."

Sherlock hesitated. "I...can't," he finished lamely.

John smirked slightly. "What do you mean, you can't?"

"I mean I've already tried and when I opened my mouth the words wouldn't come out! It was utterly ridiculous, John. I came up with some stupid story and it ended in complete disaster. I felt like a blubbering idiot. Me, John! I've never, not once in my life, felt that way."

John sat bewildered as the consulting detective finished his rant with an angry huff, his cheeks reddening in frustration and his eyes glaring at the arm of his chair like it was the cause of all his troubles. He'd never seen the man like this before, but he recognized immediately the symptoms of the disease his friend seemed to have fallen victim to.

"My God, you're actually in love with her."

Sherlock's head snapped up sharply. John expected to see disgust in his eyes; Sherlock had never made his thoughts about love a secret. However, he was surprised to see the panic in them instead. Oh yes, he was in love, indeed. And he was absolutely terrified by it.

"Don't be ridiculous, John. We both know I'm not capable of that," he responded hotly, but he looked away too quickly.

"I believe you're capable of a lot more than you think," John replied with a raised brow.

Sherlock's only response this time was a heated glare. John sighed and threw his hands up defensively.

"Fine, you don't love her. But, you're besotted with her. That much is obvious."

Sherlock was silent for a moment, continuing his glare, before he gave a short nod.

"Alright, what do I do?"

"Um, well, you have to let her know you care without actually saying it."

"Yes, I understand that. How?"

"Christ, Sherlock! Do things for her! Bring her coffee, compliment her, sincerely, um...Oh! Say sweet things to her."

"Say sweet things? You know that is not something I would even be able to do."

"Yes, you can. I'm not talking about anything overly cheesy, like in some sappy romance novel. But there are plenty of ways to let a woman know you care through your words."

"Fine, give me an example."

"Okay...um, you could say, 'You make my day.'"

Sherlock looked at him incredulously.

"You've got to be joking. I thought you said these wouldn't be cheesy."

John huffed in annoyance. "Fine, how about you tell her to be careful when she leaves."

Sherlock's brows furrowed. "Tell her to be careful? Why would I do that? My telling her would not necessarily make her anymore careful on her journey home or protect her from anything she or I have no control over."

Sherlock hated where this train of thought was leading him. He could now picture Molly leaving the hospital and being grabbed by some thief or rapist on her walk home. He could see her lifeless body lying in the middle of an alley. He resolved to follow her home from work everyday from now on.

Presently, John was rolling his eyes. "You should tell her because it lets her know you care, Sherlock. It lets her know that even though you have no control over it, you are concerned for her safety. Women love it when they can feel safe with a man, and trust me, that will make her feel protected in some small, subconscious way."

Sherlock considered John's words. "You know, that is actually quite brilliant. Do you have any more?"

John let out an exasperated laugh, but then noticed the clock.

"Actually, I have to go meet up with Mary, but I'm sure you can come up with some. You've got the basic concept, so just think about what would let her know you care, whether it seems silly or obvious to you or not."

With that, John hopped up and went to the door, quickly collecting his coat before heading out.

Sherlock sat flustered for a minute, but then grabbed John's laptop. He pulled up a search engine and typed in what he was looking for. As he scrolled through the pages, he found himself disgusted with the mindless drivel they contained. He was about to give up when one source caught his eye. It was a link to a review for a play. A few words stood out: "different ways to say 'I love you.'" He opened it and read.

The Curious Savage is a heart-warming play that can bring an audience to its knees with both laughter and tears. Mrs. Savage, a wealthy widow, is checked into a mental institution by her ungrateful step-children when she refuses to give them any of the inheritance their father left behind. The comedy ensues here as she sets each of them up by leading them on a wild goose chase for the buried money. The drama, however, lies with the patients she meets, all of whom have their own tale of woe. In the end, when she must leave, they refuse to say goodbye, but instead they each use a different odd phrase before leaving. Earlier in the play, Mrs. Savage told them there were many different ways to say, "I love you." This farewell from the patients warms her heart and the hearts of the audience...

Sherlock stopped reading. He was bored by most of the text, but was intrigued enough by the idea to find a copy of the script. After all, women liked plays, right? Surely Molly would like the fact he was quoting a play to her.

Upon reading it, he found the phrases to be just what John had described. Tomorrow, Molly would hopefully know that he cared for her.

"Good afternoon, Sherlock. What can I help you with today?"

Sherlock went over his prepared speech.

"Just thought I would stop by and check on some experiments. No need for you to stop your work, I can take care of everything I need," he replied smoothly. He mentally patted himself on the back, until he saw Molly's jaw drop in shock.

"Sherlock, are feeling alright?"

He almost let out a sigh of frustration, but he knew that would get him nowhere.

"I'm perfectly well, Molly, I assure you. But here, I stopped by the canteen on the way. I thought you might need this since you're working the night shift."

He swiftly thrust the coffee he had brought into her hand. She took it and stared at the contents in confusion. Oh no, had he gotten it wrong.

"You take it with milk and three sugars, correct?"

She looked up again, her eyes wide. She set the drink down and rushed toward him. He found himself unable to breathe as she stood inches from him. She raised her hand toward his face, and he closed his eyes in anticipation. It had worked. She understood. He hadn't even had to use those silly lines. He rejoiced and waited for her touch. He was surprised, however, when it came on his forehead. His eyes snapped open.

"You don't seem to have a fever," she muttered to herself, then brought both hands to his cheeks. He felt his breath leave at the feeling of her soft, warm hands caressing his wind-chilled flesh.

"Molly." He cursed himself for the way his voice quivered. "I am in perfect health. I was merely trying to be considerate."

She slowly brought her hands down, much to his dismay, and raised a brow at him.

"What do you want then? You don't want my help with an experiment, so then what is it?"

He did sigh with frustration this time.

"I don't want anything, Molly. It's just coffee."

Her face fell at his words, and he instantly regretted them. This is why he had to think before he spoke.

"Right, well, thank you then. I'll let you get to work."

She turned and stalked to her desk, leaving him to wallow and self-hatred. Unable to think of an appropriate apology, he simply fetched his experiments and set to work. The next few hours passed in, what he felt was, an uncomfortable silence. He never thought he would long to hear her stuttering attempts at conversation or her quivering laughter, but he suddenly found it quite endearing and much more preferrable to this encompassing quiet he was enduring.

At roughly 10:26, he heard a faint rumbling. Upon looking at Molly, and seeing her pink cheeks (which he, admittedly, found highly attractive), he concluded the noise came from her.

"Sorry, I haven't eaten since lunch. I must've lost track of the time," she giggled nervously. There was the Molly he had missed.

"Well, that's not very healthy. You should eat something immediately," he replied. There. Surely that showed caring. He cared for her health. He grimaced when she rolled her eyes.

"Don't worry, Sherlock. I'm not gonna keel over anytime soon. I'll still be here to help you with your experiments."

One step forward, two steps back, it seemed. He opened his mouth to negate her statement, but she spoke first.

"I'm going to run up to the canteen real quick and grab something. Do you want anything?"

"No, thank you."

She raised a brow at his polite response before just shaking her head and heading for the door. Suddenly, a line popped into his head. It seemed to fit here.

"Molly?" She turned around. "Don't forget to eat your vegetables."

The most adorable look of confusion crossed her face as she cocked her head to the side, and he had to stop himself from smiling adoringly. Seriously, what on earth had come over him? These feelings were downright ridiculous!

"Right," she said slowly, as if she were talking to a child. She turned on her heel and continued out the door.

Half an hour later, Molly had returned and was again working at her desk, shooting Sherlock suspicious glances every few minutes. He sighed deeply. Obviously his plan was failing. Perhaps he should have tried a different line. He wasn't ready to give up yet. After all, the best way to test a theory was multiple trials. He would just have to wait for another opportunity.

Suddenly, Molly rose from her chair and started to cross the room.

"Where are you going?"

She fixed him with a questioning stare. "I'm just going to get a file from the closet."

"Do you need any help?"

Hey eyes widened. "Well, it is on the top shelf, but I'm sure I can manage. I've always done it before," She sputtered, and he reveled in the fact that he made her flustered.

"Nonsense, I'm much taller than you. Let me get it," he responded, already rising from his chair. Apparently he had said something wrong, for she now looked annoyed.

"No, sit down. I said I can get it and I will."

He reluctantly obeyed, then realized his opportunity.

"Molly?" he said again. Again, she turned around to look at him, her face frustrated.

"What?"

"Don't fall and break your neck." And there's that adorable face again.

"Excuse me for a moment, I need to make a phone call."

His brows furrowed. "What about your file?"

"It can wait," she replied, rushing into her office and shutting the door forcefully. Well, that certainly hadn't gone as planned. Perhaps this wasn't the best idea. Curious about her sudden mood change, he got up and snuck over to the door of her office. Thankfully, the walls weren't very thick, and he was able to make out her end of the conversation.

"I'm telling you John, something is wrong with him."

Oh, perfect!

"He's saying all sorts of weird things and he's been acting oddly."

He could officially mark this down as a failure.

"John, I'm being serious! Just a second ago he told me not to fall and break my neck, and earlier he told me to eat my vegetables."

Looking back now, he realized that these things did indeed sound odd. Again, he should probably start thinking before he spoke. Dear Lord, what was happening to him? This woman was driving all sense of reason out of him. How could he be acting so foolishly.

"John, what if he's on something again?"

What? No...she could think-no. He felt despair wash over him thinking she had such little faith in him.

"Well if you're sure, do you think he's sick? Has he been acting odd lately? I checked his forehead earlier and he didn't feel like he had a fever."

Oh he was sick alright! He had come down with the worse illness imaginable. He had fallen prey to the clutches of woman's fatal touch. He suddenly realized why he had avoided this for so long. It was all consuming. Thoughts of Molly took over his mind palace like a disease, but strangely, he no longer wanted it to stop.

"I don't know why you're laughing! I don't find this amusing at all, and given your relationship with him I would think you would be a little more concerned."

Oh no. She still thought that. Oh, John would throw a fit. Sherlock felt a bit amused as he imagined John's reaction.

"What do you mean you're not in a relationship? Who the hell is Mary?"

Oh, this was great, indeed.

"So then...who was he-oh!"

Did she finally realize?

"No, I think I know what's going on now. Sorry to bother you, John. Goodbye."

Why did she sound...sad? Hearing her footsteps near the door, he ran back to his previous position in the room. Molly exited her office with slumped shoulders, and he felt the urge to rush to her side.

"Everything alright?"

She looked up, seeming startled. "Oh, yes. Actually, I think I'm going to head out a bit early. I'm not really feeling well. I hope you don't mind."

"Not at all. I was just finishing up anyway," he lied, only halfway through his experiment.

She gave him a small smile as she gathered her things. He, however, worried. He knew for a fact she was feeling just fine. She was obviously upset by the last few sentences of her phone call with John. He just couldn't figure out why. Had she truly understood his feelings and was disgusted by the prospect, or did she think he had meant someone else?

As they were heading out the door, he noticed a small umbrella in the corner of the room. Well, he had already made a fool of himself, so he might as well finish another line.

"Molly, take an umbrella out. It's raining."

Scrunching her face, she responded, "Sherlock, it's London. It's always raining. I think I can handle it."

He huffed angrily. "Yes, I realize that, but just...be careful." He spoke the last part softly. As he watched, he saw something akin to gratitude and affection run through her eyes.

"Thank you. I will."

And then, she leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. Pulling back quickly, she blushed bright red before muttering a quick goodbye and rushing out the door. Sherlock, however, could only stand rooted to the spot, a goofy grin plastered on his face. Perhaps tonight hadn't been a complete failure after all.

A/N: Btw, The Curious Savage is actually a play, and it is by far one of my absolute favorite plays. If you ever get a chance to see it (which you may not because it's not that well known) it's definitely worth it. Anyway, please please review and let me know what you think. I love feedback. And thanks so much to everyone who has reviewed, followed, and favorited! You guys are amazing and I love you :)