Glad to see you're all on board and enjoying it so far. Sorry for the long wait in posting chapter two but life and work got in the way.

Chapter 2

Sherlock Holmes on the other hand had not expected to dream of Molly Hooper at all and yet he did.

He tossed and turned in his bed unaware that he was groaning in his sleep until he woke at the exact same moment that he came. He flung his covers back in disgust looking down at the sticky residue before his head fell back on the pillow, as he wiped his face with his hand, thinking back to the dream and wondering what had brought it on.

He had never dreamt of Molly like that before, well not for a while anyway. When he had first met her he had been attracted to her, definitely, but he had absolutely not been looking for a relationship so he'd shut down his feelings, shut down his attraction to her. It had caused him a few sleepless nights and a few wet dreams but they'd soon stopped. Now here he was nearly four years later back to square one it seemed.

Maybe spending time with Molly socially wasn't such a good idea. Sherlock swung himself out of bed and stripped off, throwing his clothes into the wash basket, before padding into the bathroom to shower.

As he waited for the water to warm up he thought back to his evening with Molly just a few hours ago. He smiled as the memories came back to him and he realised with a jolt that he'd enjoyed himself. He couldn't remember the last time he'd just plain enjoyed himself doing something other than solving a case. It must have been back when John was still living with him and it had been months now since he'd moved out.

He shrugged and stood under the refreshing stream of water, slicking back his hair and reaching for his body wash. He had handled physical attraction before, he could do it again.

MHMHMHMHMHMHMHMHMHMH

Molly had decided to try and dress a bit more appropriately for tonight's lesson. She had on a strappy, summer dress and a light cardigan with a pair of comfy sneakers so her feet wouldn't hurt at work. Trouble was she was freezing in the morgue. This is why I normally wear trousers! She grumbled to herself as she moved around the table finishing off her last autopsy of the day.

It was a relief to finally get outside in the sunshine, it was early May but they were already experiencing high temperatures, summer seemed to get earlier every year. She had had plenty of time so she had elected to walk to Baker St. and make the most of the weather, replenishing her stores of Vitamin D after the long winter months. It was days like these when she hated being stuck in a cold basement all day.

It seemed many others had had the same idea as her as there were lots of people sitting outside cafes or lying on the grass in the parks and gardens enjoying some food.

By the time she got to Sherlock's her cardigan was off and tied around her waist and this time when she rang the door bell it was Sherlock himself who answered. He nodded to her, 'Molly, come in.'

She followed him up the stairs and was surprised to see he had opened the windows to let some air in. He noticed her gaze and quickly said, 'Mrs Hudson insisted I open them, she said it was stuffy and unhealthy and that I needed some air'. He made air quotes as he said the last bit, his eyes rolling in irritation.

'Wine?'

'Sherlock if I didn't know you better I'd say you were plying me with alcohol.'

He lifted an eyebrow, 'I am plying you with alcohol Molly. You relax more around me when you're a little tipsy and you need to be relaxed to dance.' With that he passed her her glass though she noticed he had poured himself one as well.

'Oh, right.' Molly had known Sherlock too long to be either surprised or offended; she should have known there would be a reason for the wine.

'Shall we get started then.'

Molly nodded before untying her cardigan and throwing it onto a chair. She stepped up to Sherlock making sure to lift her shoulders, straighten her back and extend her neck. She smiled at him as she moved into his arms, taking his hand and resting her other hand on his shoulder. This time when he cupped her shoulder blade it was bare flesh that he touched. Molly shivered at the feel of his hand on her back and for a moment her eyes closed and her smile faltered.

Sherlock noticed how her breath hitched and her pulse elevated at his touch. He also noticed his own reactions, his heart rate increased, his mouth felt dry and he felt a pulse of blood to his crotch. He was better than Molly at dissembling though and didn't let his expression falter.

'Good Molly, well remembered. I think we're ready for the first steps.' With this he moved away from her and turned and sat on the settee looking up at her. He picked up his glass of wine and leant back.

'Erm...what are you doing?'

'I know the steps Molly so don't need to practice. But first take off those shoes, they're completely wrong for dancing. You'll have to dance barefoot for now.'

'Oh, OK.' Molly turned round and bent down to undo the laces and toe off her shoes. She didn't realise she was giving Sherlock a fine view of her backside. He gulped and shifted uncomfortably in his seat but he didn't look away. She pushed the shoes under John's old chair and turned back.

'Right you see the square I've marked out on the floor,' he pointed to some masking tape in front of him. 'Stand on that corner and remember to count in your head as follows, one, two, three, one two three. Can you do that?'

Molly frowned and retorted sarcastically, 'yes, I think I can just about manage that! One, two, three, one, two, three.'

'Good, now I'm going to teach you a basic waltz box step, even you should be able to cope with that. We'll be able to use it in a rumba, waltz or even foxtrot. So, hands up, pretend you're holding me. I want you to step back with your right foot, left slides back and to your left, yes to that other corner. Now right foot joins the left. Good. Now left foot forward and right slides up and to the right. Then bring the left to join it.'

Molly looked down, biting her lip in concentration as she followed his instructions as closely as she could.

He made her repeat the move over and over before reminding her that she needed to keep her head upright and do the move without looking down.

He watched her moving back and forth the sunlight glinting on her hair and her dress swaying with the movement. He licked his lips and sipped at his wine. She was intoxicating to watch like this and he could feel himself physically reacting to her. His head was telling him he needed to cut this session short but he couldn't quite bring himself to do it. Instead, he told her to take a quick break whilst he set up some music for her.

As he looked through his iPod at various pieces of music he heard Molly's stomach rumble. He looked round smirking, 'long time since lunch eh Molly?'

She blushed, 'sorry, it was really busy today, I didn't get chance to grab much more than a bag of crisps.'

Sherlock heard himself talking but wasn't quite sure where the sentence had come from, it certainly wasn't planned, 'we can order in some take away if you want. There are some menus on the side, pick something out.'

He turned back to the iPod and internally berated himself. What was he doing? He should be getting rid of her not persuading her to stay.

'Do you fancy Chinese, I could murder some beef in black bean sauce? What do you like?'

'I don't much mind, John used to do the ordering, maybe some chow mien.'

By the time Molly had placed the order he had the music set up to go and sat himself back down. 'OK, let's try this again but with the music. Close your eyes and feel for the rhythm, one, two, three, one, two, three...'

Molly moved in time with the music, her arms up and her eyes closed.

Sherlock felt strangely like a voyeur watching her. She was picking the moves up well; he could tell she would make a good dancer.

The doorbell ringing below brought an end to the lesson and Sherlock ran down to pay whilst Molly found some plates and cutlery.

They sat comfortably together on the settee as they ate their food with Sherlock asking Molly about the autopsies she'd carried out that day.

Molly sat back in the corner with her feet tucked up under he as she recounted some of the details. She knew the kinds of cases that would pique his interest, the anomalies she had come across, the strange bits of information that had led her to understanding the reasons for death. It was a rare thing for her to find someone outside of her profession who would happily listen to the minutiae of her job let alone over food.

Sherlock meanwhile found listening to her talking both stimulating intellectually as well as strangely comforting. He was beginning to realise that he had spent too many evenings and meals alone recently. It hadn't bothered him in previous years but living with John had changed him. He would never be gregarious but he needed some company and he could do a lot worse than Molly Hooper.

The food was all eaten and the night had grown dark before they finished their conversation. Molly drained her glass and looked at her watch, 'oh my God it's nearly midnight, where did the time go!'

She stood up, 'thank you for the meal Sherlock, and the lesson. I'm really enjoying it. Any chance we might actually dance together though sometime soon?'

Sherlock laughed, 'yes, I think maybe you're just about ready. Same time tomorrow?'

Her face fell briefly, 'Oh, no, I can't do tomorrow; I've got something else on. How about the night after? Maybe I could bring some food and cook us something.'

Sherlock was more put out than he ought to have been on hearing that Molly had a life outside of himself. He agreed to their next date though before seeing her out, making sure she was safely ensconced in a cab before heading back indoors.

So a disgruntled Sherlock! The next chapter will be up Sunday so not as long to wait this time. Hope you all have a good weekend.