Part Two
Thanks for your feedback so far, I hope I don't disappoint! have just finished chapter 3 (the final instalment), i'm going to see how this chapter fares and post the 3rd later if y'all want?! Enjoy!

With that, Sherlock attempted to sit up again, this time without rushing and Inducing a blackout. This had been the first time he'd regretted injecting.

Standing like bambi, he composed himself and began sourcing a bottle of wine and two clean glasses smiling to himself when he searched the cupboard under the sink, his hand grasped the neck of the bottle. A Rioja, John's 'emergency date' wine. What a lady killer. Placing the bottle and glasses on a tray and taking them over to the coffee table, Sherlock sat and waited. Glancing at the clock, only seven minutes had passed since his last text. Where is she? He deduced, Molly won't have had company in her pokey flat, she'd be in town. Her favourite bar was approximately thirteen minutes away from the flat. This time of night, she'd get a cab. Six minutes. It can't come quick enough.

Sherlock stood up, why was he thinking like this? Surely it must've been the drugs. He knew he felt stirrings for her when they lived together, but he put them down to being primal, but he felt positively ecstatic to see her again, to smell her.

Three minutes. He didn't have long. Attempting to straighten up the flat a bit, he cast away his earlier experiments, wiped the surfaces in the kitchen and straightened the cushions on the sofa. He stood up, hands on hips, blowing a curl away from his face when he heard a gentle tap on the door. He'd left the front door open so she knew to come straight up. My clever girl, he thought, a coy smile spreading on his face. He approached the door, trying furiously to omit the excitement bubbling in the pit of his stomach.

"Good evening Miss Hooper. Or should I say good morning?" He stood aside and ushered her in. Her cheeks flushed with alcohol, her mascara smudged a little on her right lid. But my god, she looks stunning. On removing her coat, he saw her red shift dress clinging to her. Electricity sparked through him when his hand brushed hers, as he chivalrously took her coat.

He gestured to the sofa, offering her a seat as he scooped up the wine glasses effortlessly. He waltzed over to her, trying hard not to stumble, his drugs having taken full effect on him. Handing Molly her wine, he watched her from behind his own glass as she took a sip, noticing her lips were already tinged with wine from her night with her girlfriends. The silence that surrounded them wasn't awkward, but Sherlock was pleasantly surprised when Molly shifted and broke the silence.

"Sorry, erm, Sherlock for coming round." She picked at the rim of her glass, looking at her busy hands. Cheeks flushed, eyes refusing to rise. She continued;

"In fact I should probably go." She stood up, obviously too quickly as she steadied herself by slamming her glass on the coffee table. Bent over, trying to hide her drunken giggle, whispering 'oops' to herself. Feeling a silence fall over the flat, and feeling Sherlock's eyes fixated on her arse. She did not stand up.

His eyes coursed over the petite curve of her arse, the red dress clinging flush against her skin. It was at arms length, if he just reached out, he could mould his hand to her curve and see if the ridge in the dress really was a thong. He clenched his jaw, trying to subdue the ret hot fire that coursed through his veins, through his body.

After what seemed like an eternity, Molly stood up and smoothed her dress down. Cheeks matching the outfit, she excused herself to the toilet.

He watched her totter out the room in her heels, and sat with his swimming thoughts. Was this really him? Thinking these thoughts? Was it not the drugs that fuelled his pure lust towards his pathologist? He formed a plan of action.

Moly went into the bathroom, locking the door behind her, worried that she may spontaneously combust under her hot cheeks.

She sat on the edge of the bath, relishing the cool porcelain against the back of her thighs, she collected herself. She was definitely still drunk, why not play it off and see what happens? Standing up, feeling a new wave of confidence with her alcoholic buzz returning to her, she nodded at herself in the mirror before returning to the sitting room. She had a plan.