Molly sat in her flat watching the lately news on her telly. It had been a boring, uneventful day at the morgue, even the bodies were boring. She left work at ten and had only just gotten home to an unsurprisingly empty flat. She was used to being alone and having no one there for her when she got home. Even Toby was out that night.

It was pathetic really when you looked at it. She was a 33 year old woman with a successful stable job, she had a beautiful flat in a great part of London and she was financially secure. So why did she find herself constantly alone? In a city of 8.174 million people, how was it possible to be this lonely?

A knock on her door caught Molly's attention and made her pulse quicken. It was half past midnight, who could be at her flat at this time of night? Slowly she got up from her couch and made her way towards the door. She stood on her tiptoes and looked out the peephole, Sherlock stood outside her door; why was Sherlock at her flat?

Molly unbolted the dead bolt, opened the door and took in the sight of him. He stood there with his shoulders hunched forward, his hair was damp from rain and stuck out in all ends. He wasn't wearing his long jacket that he always wore, instead he was just wearing black trousers and that sinfully tight purple shirt.

"Sherlock, what…what are you doing here?"

Sherlock stepped forward invading Molly's personal space, she began to back away but Sherlock grabbed her shoulders so she couldn't move.

"I needed to see you," he whispered.

"Why?" Molly asked quietly. "You knocked, you usually just pick the lock and come in. Why did you knock this time?"

Sherlock considered her question for a moment, what was he supposed to say in this moment? He thought for a moment but all of the scenarios he ran in his head would make him sound crazy and would most likely get him kicked out.

"I needed to see you," he repeated again.

"I have a phone, you could have text."

He knew Molly had said something but he didn't hear it, he was too busy staring down at her. God, she was beautiful. This was it, this was his moment. He leaned forward and before Molly could stop him he pressed his lips down onto hers. He moved his hands to her face and cupped her cheeks in between his hands. He kissed her again and again and again until his brain felt like it was melting and his insides feel like they were exploding like fireworks on New Years.

Molly could feel her pulse quicken and with every touch sparks ignited inside her. Sherlock Holmes was in her flat, Sherlock Holmes was kissing her. She dared herself to open her eyes to prove that this was indeed happening, she did and feeling satisfied with herself she shut them again and kissed Sherlock back.

His hands brushed her cheek, his hands knotted in her hair, pulling at it but it felt good in a weird way. She brought her hands to his stomach and very slowly made her way up to his chest, she grazed every strong tight muscle with her hands memorizing each one as she went. She had imagined this so many times but never in any of her fantasies did he have her pressed up against the wall, nor did he have his hands knotted in her hair. He pulled her hair gently testing the waters, she moaned into his mouth and Sherlock knew it was time to continue.

He gripped her waist and lifted her off of the ground and into the air, Molly's legs wrapped around Sherlock's waist tightly as he carried her down the hallway and into her bedroom. He gently laid her down on the bed and hovered over her resting in between her legs.

He moved his mouth from her lips and trailed kisses down the side of her face, down her jaw and down her neck, she moaned once more and threw her head back out of pleasure, Sherlock couldn't help the feeling of his pants tightening in that certain spot. Her scent filled his nose and filled him with memories of that long night in the lab when he confessed her importance to him and more importantly when he told her she counted. Her kisses tasted like tangerines and the promise they had made long ago on a moonless night lingered on her tongue.

With shaky hands Molly reached up and slowly one by one began to unbutton the buttons of his shirt. She took her time doing this task taking much pleasure in feeling the soft silk between her fingers, the feeling of his soft warm skin sent a tingle down her spine. When finally she had all the buttons undone she reached up and very slowly pushed the fabric off his back, bunched the shirt in her hands and threw it across the room.

Abruptly Sherlock sat up and rocked back gently on the balls of his feet. His pupils were so full that she couldn't see that beautiful ocean colour, all she could see was the black colour of his arousal. His chest rose up and down in a great speed and Molly was to guess that if she took his pulse that too would be racing.

"Wait, Molly I just need to make sure of something," he whispered. "I need to make sure you're okay with this, that you want this."

"Of course I want this," she replied, "I've always wanted this."

"Have you ever-"

"Yes, have you?"

"Yes."

"Oh-"

Sherlock raised an eyebrow in response. "You seem surprised?"

Molly bit her lip. "Well I just assumed that you were…well that you've never had…well you know what I'm saying."

Sherlock lied down on his side with his head propped up on his elbow. He brought his hands to her waist and gently stroked the soft exposed skin just above her navel. "There was a girl once in University; I thought I was in love. She was three years older than I was and was rather quite intelligent, a chemistry double major just like I was. It didn't last long, merely just a short fling in the backroom at a party. You Molly are different."

"How so?"

Sherlock rolled over and cupped Molly's cheek. "Because my dear Molly, you feel like home."

She kissed him then hard over and over again putting her heart into every kiss as if sealing it deep within him making sure that if she couldn't keep it from being broken, he sure could.

Within minutes they had shed their clothing and left it abandoned in a pile on the floor. He hovered immobile over her propped up on his elbows looking deep within her eyes, looking into them now he felt like he was looking into her soul and looking at everything she was and had ever been.

He looked at her once more for approval and when she nodded a yes he slowly and full of love and desire closed the gap between them.

"Originally I wanted to be an astronomer and study the stars. I had my whole life planned out from a very young age. My father had a bunch of old books about the stars and constellations that he used to read to me and when I was finally old enough he gave them to me and I used to read them every night. He bought me a telescope when I was fourteen, mum was mad at him for it saying that we couldn't afford it but she got over that after she realized it brought me joy.

"When my father died I was a complete wreck, he was my best friend, he was my everything. The pathologist seemed so harsh and distant, he made it seem like my father's death was a true inconvenience to him. It was then when I decided to become a pathologist, I knew that people wanted to feel comforted and I knew I could give that to them."

Sherlock kissed his pathologists cheek and pulled her closer to him. It had been hours since they had finished making love but their bodies still buzzed and hummed from the encounter. Molly sat in between Sherlock's legs with him sitting against the headboard of her bed. He had her wrapped up tightly in her sheets and gently rocked her side to side in a calming motion.

The drugs had worn off long ago but Molly had kept his buzz going with her warmth and loving ways. He was careful to hide his bruises from the needle and despite nothing hiding them from each other she never saw.

Sherlock kissed her once again, Molly's lips more than happily and hungrily responded back. He knew that he should leave soon before his withdrawal symptoms hit but something kept him glued to her. He wanted to leave, walk out that door and back to 221B but the thought of leaving her alone again cause a sharp pain in his heart. No, he had left her alone behind before, this time he intended to take her with him everywhere he went.

"I wanted to be a pirate when I was younger," Sherlock admitted.

Molly giggled. "Captain Sherlock Holmes, it has a nice ring to it!"

Sherlock gripped Molly tighter. "Can I stay here tonight?"

"Of course you can," Molly turned her head and met Sherlock's eyes with hers, "stay as long as you like."

He wasn't sure how long they stayed like that but time didn't matter when they were together like that. It wasn't until the early hours of the morning when Sherlock himself had drifted off into a comfortable dreamless sleep.

Sorry for the long wait for this chapter I got sick recently and I've been busy with work but here it is!

Hopefully I'll have a new one up soon so enjoy this one!

-Lemon