Author: Howlynn
Realm: Sherlock
Story Title: A Statue in the Temple of Mendacity.
Summary: Molly counts. She Promised to help him. But, the reality of saving Sherlock ends up leading to places she never expected. Sherlock needs her again, but this time she must save John.

Character/Relationships: John and Molly would never have noticed each other if he were not dead. The thing is, Molly knows he isn't and she never expected things to get this complicated.

I Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

Molly giggles a little in relief. Her eyes flash down at herself, she's so uncomfortable. Tears march down her cheeks in pure liberation. She wipes them away quickly and after several deep breaths, "I would feel better if you were in a similar state, you know."

"I warn you, not much to see, in comparison. Unless you like scars and impeccable hygiene, there isn't much to go on about." He pulls his jumper over his head and removes his checked shirt and vest. He watches her carefully as he unbuckles his trousers and slides his plain pants off in one swoop. He stands up and holds his arms out doing a little turn.

"Liar. You look…well very nice. You don't do much for showing off in your bulky jumpers either, but I like them anyway. You do have a lot of scars. I knew about your shoulder, but…where did you get all those."

He tilts his head back and laughs. He begins pointing to various puckered areas large and small. "Let's see, Kabul, Herat, Mazari Sharif, Shahi-Kot, Operation Medusa and that one hurt, let me tell you. Christ, I honestly don't remember this one or this one, the leg was in Operation Panther's Claw and the final trip to fun city happened during Operation Moshtarak, thus ending my very promising career as a surgeon, until Sherlock spent an hour proving it was all in my head. Oh and these, Sherlock, Sherlock and Sherlock. And that is the full inventory of Three-continents Watson."

"Why are you called that? I have heard it before and was too shy to ask."

He smirked and it was absolutely adorable. "I…it isn't a very nice story. Let's just say, I have a problem keeping my trousers zipped and have had some rather ruthlessly nosy friends."

"You have been caught shagging on three continents?"

"In public. What can I say? My looks don't pull much action, so I developed my…er charm. Word got around. I prefer to say I have bled and wept on three continents. It is equally as accurate, just not the truthful reason behind my name. So, want to keep trading exploits? I am very interested in yours by the way, or should I… "He pulled her forward and pressed her body to his, "take you upstairs and taste every square inch of you until you beg me to stop."

"Oh. Well, the last one sounds like the best option." She buried her face in his neck and inhaled.

John bent slightly and scooped her up bridal style. She giggled. He grinned mischievously and tossed her over his shoulder before slapping her behind. She squealed and declared he had just pitched her romantic visions out the window. He slapped her fanny again and chuckled as he carried her up stairs like a sack of potatoes.

He dumped her on the bed and spread her legs and without any preamble he entered her. She uncertainly allowed him, but after barely four thrusts he stopped and grinned. "Just sampling. Yes, that was delicious. I do think that this model will suite me quite well. Now, let's check under the hood."

Molly didn't make many coherent sounds for approximately three hours. By the time John could wait no longer for his own pleasure, she had been bent, nibbled and invaded in every orifice, some more than once and she was a new practitioner of the twenty-three minute orgasm. She was not even reasonably interested in right or wrong. She had long passed the point of caring if this was the stupidest thing she'd ever done.

Molly watched John shudder and let out an explosive string of nonsense in an estimated three languages. He turned beet red as his long postponed pleasure seemed nearly as painful as any of the wounds his scars might have offered and then he collapsed and offered her a cursory clumsy snog as he chanted her name and thank you in mumbling breathless bliss. They both were asleep before any more could be said.

His snoring awoke her and she needed the lav desperately. She fumbled and wiggled out from under him and snuck down the stairs naked. She made two quick mugs of tea and returned upstairs to find him sitting in the bed, holding his head like it would explode. He seemed almost surprised to find her handing him a cuppa and grinned sheepishly. He reached in the bedside table and offered her two pills.

"That's a bit much for a hangover, don't you think?" she stared at the pills dubiously.

"Trust me. I'm a doctor and this is alcohol induced concussion, I'm just not sure which one of my frontal lobes is going to finally swell enough to actually crack my skull. Jesus, I think my eyes are packed in glass. The only thing that could possibly make them worth opening is you naked in my bed. Do you know you are a vision in debauchery?"

Molly laughed and swallowed the pills. They lay peacefully for thirty minute then he rolled over and smiled. "Come on. I am having sex with or without you, in the shower in two minutes. I prefer the 'with you' option."

Molly grinned and followed the mad man down the stairs. The sounds they made echoed. He washed her hair and scrubbed her back in a delicious seductive way. He was all smiles and jokes and then suddenly his face grew serious. His hand slid upon her throat and he cupped her head and looked directly in her eyes, "I am so sorry about last night. There was no excuse for me to question your motives like that and I am profoundly ashamed to have frightened you in any way. I must not drink like that again, not around you. I hope you know that all of that, the stupidity bits, had nothing to do with you? I have been pretty useless for a while now. I don't regret this at all. Not for a second. I just hope you don't either."

Molly searched his face and chewed her lip for a second. "Lots of people did tell me to call you and check on you. But I would never do this…unless it was what I wanted. I knew what I was getting into. I do know how bloody horrible it's been. I was scared for you. I won't lie. But, I really wasn't scared of you."

"Good. That's good. I just have to say, you have no idea what…this. I mean. I don't want this to be a one off, if there is any hope that, we could. No. I'm not doing that. Not putting you on the spot like that. Just know, right now, I feel almost, almost, like this could be a pretty wonderful day. I'm looking forward to it. Honestly. So thank you, for that." He reaches around her and turns off the taps and hands her a towel.

"I feel like that too," she feels shy saying it, but the truth is, she hasn't had much fun in a long time. She was afraid to go anywhere these days because she had been cautioned about keeping her guard up. She wasn't recognized or hounded like John had been right after, but she could hardly go to the store for weeks that she hadn't heard something or seen another headline that either broke her heart or made her heart throb in anger.

She had slipped into defense mode at all the 'poor little Molly' whispers she pretended not to hear. She had survived it, but she had become less interested in the many people who smiled to her face and rolled their eyes behind her back. Most of them at work had seen her with the man who stole the crown jewels and they all knew she had fancied Sherlock. She had become a little stand offish about invitations. She did understand what John meant, because she was looking forward to a lovely day and just having someone near who didn't hold onto the false things that they had said in the papers.

They dressed and headed out into the city for phone shopping and lunch. Molly had several texts waiting and snuck into the loo to answer them.

They were all from Sherlock and she read them and carefully answered them with one text.

[All is fine, but it was a danger night and he broke my phone, shot it actually. He's fine. I'm fine. But he's right here so please lay low. Will explain later. He's having fun, so don't worry. We both love you very much.]

[Molly. I am so sorry. You didn't have to put yourself in danger. That is such a rare part of him, I never imagined he would threaten you harm. God you must hate me. Are you sure you are ok?]

[I told you anything and I guess I meant it. I'll keep him safe. You keep you safe.]