Thank you all again for your feedback, it seems we are all of one mind, and that is that we want Molly to take it slow but given half the chance we ourselves would have bedded him there and then and probably wouldn't have let him out of the bed for a good long while!

Thank you for making me smile.

Chapter 7

The following day brought five bodies into the morgue following a bad car accident along with a text from Sherlock.

Dress up. I'll collect you at 8.00pm. SH

Molly rolled her eyes at his bluntness but was curious about why she needed to dress up. It also reminded her that she desperately needed to go shopping for the big dance. She texted Mary to see if she would be available for a shopping trip later in the week. She knew that John had managed to get a couple of tickets and that Mary might need a dress as much as she did.

Mary soon texted back with an affirmative and they arranged something for Thursday evening when the shops tended to stay open longer. Mary finished her text with a threat to pump her for information about her and Sherlock you know I have the skills to make you talk, girl, so don't make me have to use them ;-).

By the time Molly was finishing for the day she was foot sore and feeling a bit down. The accident had involved two cars, one with three teenagers. It never got any easier autopsying the bodies of children and young people. Everyone involved in trauma of this nature had their own ways of coping, some turned to drink or drugs to block it out, some used talking to friends or family or counsellors. Molly would normally go home, indulge in a long bath and lose herself in a book or a film, something light hearted and fluffy to distract her.

She took her time over the bath, indulging in the warmth and the bubbles whilst she read a chapter of her latest book, then she shaved her legs, washed her hair and even exfoliated her face. By the time she got out she felt like a new person; clean again.

She pondered over what to wear for far too long wondering what exactly Sherlock had in mind. In the end she plumped for a royal blue dress with a fitted bodice and swirly skirt which fell to her knees. She paired it up with some heels and a bag and hoped they wouldn't be walking too far.

She'd just finished when the doorbell rang signifying Sherlock's arrival. Molly suddenly felt a fluttering of nerves, oh God this was it, a proper date. She really hoped she wouldn't mess it up.

She opened the door and looked shyly at Sherlock. He was looking sinfully handsome in a dark suit with a black shirt emphasising his pale skin and dark hair. He was carrying a box in one hand and as his gaze drifted down her body he spoke 'Evening Molly, just as I thought, totally unsuitable.'

He brushed past her making his way into her small front room. Molly's heart sank momentarily before being replaced by a sudden surge of ire. Where did he get off coming to her flat and insulting her?

'Sherlock Holmes, I do not need you coming round to my home and telling me I look a mess. Maybe if you'd told me what we were going to do I could have picked something more appropriate.'

She flung her bag on the chair crossing her arms, defensively, over her chest.

He looked round, frowning, 'what on earth are you talking about Molly? I never said you looked a mess; I was talking about your shoes. They are not suitable for dancing. Luckily for you I've brought you a pair that is. Now stop sulking and come and sit down.' He patted the settee and knelt down in front of it as he opened up the box he'd been carrying.

'Oh!' Molly felt a bit guilty for assuming the worst; maybe it was going to take her longer than she'd realised to trust his motives.

She kicked off her shoes and sat down, looking curiously down at the box. 'Oh Sherlock, they're beautiful.'

He was taking out a pair of black satin sandals decorated across the toe straps with tiny crystals.

He reached behind the knee of Molly's right leg and lifted it sliding his hand slowly down her calf to her foot. Molly shivered at his touch. He fitted the shoe tightening the ankle straps, talking as he did so, 'these are made especially for dancing. The straps help to hold them in place so they won't slip off, they're cushioned so should be comfortable. I didn't get you anything too high given your still a novice but they're still high enough to look elegant. I went with black, it tends to match most outfits, I trust it will match your dress for the ball.'

He repeated his actions with her left leg then stood and held his hand out to help her up. She stood testing out the shoes, which were amazingly comfy, still holding his hand. 'Do you like them?' He said suddenly sounding shy.

'I love them, they're perfect. Thank you.' Molly stood on her tip toes so she could reach up and kiss him. It was meant to be a peck on the cheek but he turned his face at the last minute so their lips met. The feel of his lips on hers still left her breathless. The kiss seemed to last forever and when they finally broke apart Sherlock had one hand splayed on her back the other on her hip holding her against him. He swallowed before talking, 'seriously Molly, if you don't want me to drag you to your room and strip you naked we'd better go!'

Molly bit her lip and closed her eyes; she wasn't sure how much longer she could hold out against him, she wasn't sure she even wanted to anymore. But she pulled back and took his hand, 'so, Mr Holmes, where are you taking me tonight?'

'I, Doctor Hooper, am taking you dancing. A local hotel is holding a dance evening and I thought it was time we got some real life practice in.'

MHMHMHMHMHMHMHMHMHMH

Molly really hadn't been sure what to expect from the dance, maybe little old women partnering each other in a drafty old ballroom, but she was pleasantly surprised. It was a light airy room filled with a mix of different age groups; yes there were slightly more women than men but not by much.

There was a compare announcing the next dances, a dance instructor in one corner taking some couples through the basic steps and a busy bar area.

Sherlock held onto Molly's hand as they made their way to the bar, he ordered two glasses of wine and they found a couple of chairs and a table on the edge of the dance floor. They sat for a couple of minutes sipping their drinks and watching the dancers before the compare announced the next dance would be a foxtrot.

Sherlock looked at her smiling, 'you ready for this?' Molly nodded a little nervously but took his hand. They took their position on the dance floor and waited for the music to start. Instead of traditional ballroom dance music it all seemed to be contemporary tunes and Molly found they were dancing to Strong Enough by Sheryl Crow.

She didn't get on too bad, Sherlock told her off once for looking down at her feet and she stood on his foot again but other than that it went OK. They stayed on for the next dance which was a basic waltz; again it was a modern song though not one Molly was familiar with. This time she felt a lot more confident, they'd practiced the waltz more and it was beginning to feel second nature. She smiled and whirled and thoroughly enjoyed every minute of it and from the look on his face so had Sherlock.

The next dance was a tango which Molly hadn't yet tried, they made their way back to the table and sat down watching once more. Molly turned to Sherlock smiling, 'thank you for this Sherlock, I know it's not really your thing but I'm really enjoying myself.'

'Believe it or not Molly, I am relishing our time here. I have always loved to dance but haven't had anyone suitable who would indulge me.'

The rest of the evening flew by, they danced until Molly thought she was going to drop. She even tried a few new steps and slightly more complicated and faster dances than she had previously and she had coped with them quite well.

They left when the event closed just before midnight and even though there were lots of people milling about on the pavement Sherlock seemed to have no problem flagging down a cab.

He pulled the door shut behind them, barked Molly's address at the poor driver and then he was on her.

He more or less dragged her onto his lap his hands sliding across her back, one hand moving into her hair helping him to tilt her head as he attacked her mouth. Molly barely had a chance to react, her mind reeling from the physical assault on her senses. She moaned into his mouth which just caused him to hold her tighter and kiss her harder.

She wanted him, she knew she wanted him but she still wasn't sure now was the right time but she was fast losing grip of her ability to say no.

The cab pulled up outside her flat and Sherlock sat forward, with Molly still on his knee, ready to pay the driver.

'Wait...wait, I think you should go home tonight.'

Sherlock looked at her in surprise before his face turned into a pout which had Molly biting her lip not to giggle at. 'What? Why Molly, I know you want me.' The latter was said in such a low, sexy voice that Molly almost relented. He smiled slowly, 'don't tell me you're still playing hard to get Doctor Hooper; we both know that won't last.'

She smiled back, 'Oh believe me, I know it won't last but please just give me a bit longer. This, it just feels so sudden.'

'Fine, but I'm not going to stop trying to persuade you.'

'Good, I'm looking forward to it.'

Molly leant forward and kissed him. This time the kiss was slow and languid rather than the almost frenzied passion of a few minutes earlier and it was Sherlock's turn to groan. 'You'd better go before I throw you over my shoulder and carry you to your bed.' He gave her one of his trademark smirks, 'I'll swing by Bart's tomorrow and catch up with some tests I've been meaning to try out. Until then Molly.'

Molly clambered out of the cab and waved as she reached the door, the cab pulling away once she was safely inside. She leant her head momentarily against the cool glass panel, God she was going to need a cold shower before bed.

Molly's staying strong, how about the rest of us? I would definitely have caved by now, especially with him wearing a black shirt and black suit. I love that combination on him.

Next update on Sunday.