Author's Note:

So, finally had time to write. Didn't get many reviews for last chapter. I know it was short but did you guys not like it? What happened?

Anyways hope Sherlock doesn't get too out of character here. He's always so hard to pin down. Didn't turn out angsty because I wrote more here than I thought I would and the angst happens later so it will happen in the next chapter.

EDIT: I got a tumblr just for my fanfic stuff. It's infinitemonkeyswriting . tumblr . com I'll submit all my stories their too, but also I'll reblog any art and the occasional fic. I'll also open up requests for one-shots but I can't guarantee anything.

Previously:

Molly let go a bit and slipped back down to rest her feet on the floor. "Thank You." She leaned back to look at him with the intention of giving him a chaste kiss.

"Sherlock, you're crying."

Sherlock wiped a tear from his eye and looked at it with curiosity. "But I'm not sad... I'm happy... I'm very happy. I-"

"Sssshhh... they're tears of joy. Why are you so happy?"

"I thought that was just some ridiculous expression but..." Sherlock smiled and a laugh escaped his lips.

To Molly he'd never looked more beautiful. She'd never gotten the chance to see him like this, truly happy. He was always putting on those fake smiles.

"...I'm happy! Truly happy!" Sherlock grabbed her face and with a huge grin gave her a quick kiss on the lips than wrapped his arms around her and picked her up again.

Molly immediately locked her legs around his skinny frame and held on to his shoulders for balance.

"What's gotten into you?"

Sherlock seemed to ignore the question. "And your happy, aren't you? Because of Toby? This is so strange. God it feels good. Is this what you usually feel? Why does it only work on me with you?"

"Usually feel when what?"

"When you do things for others. When you make them happy."

"Oh, Sherlock." Molly kissed him.

Sherlock wasn't quite expecting it but found himself reciprocating more than before. He stepped backwards a few steps and maneuvered them onto the couch. Their teeth clashed unceremoniously as they crashed into the soft cushions.

"Sorry, but my ribs are killing me. Twice already you've jumped me."

"Second time was your idea."

"You started it."

"Just shut up..." Molly moved to kiss him.

Sherlock evaded her lips and dug his head into the crook of her neck.

"No kissing. It's too much. I want to... savor the moment."

"Oh..." And Molly melted into his arms.

If there was one thing she'd never ever imagined would happen it was Sherlock Holmes hugging onto her like he was doing. She'd hoped maybe for some strange case he'd need a girlfriend, and maybe he'd have to kiss her, maybe just maybe they'd have a quick shag one night and never mention it again, but this... this was just beyond everything she could ever hope. And he wasn't the only one who was happy and comfortable. Molly even as caring as she was never really liked hugs. She always felt smothered, but he seemed to be her exception. They were clinging onto each other like their lives depended on it but she felt cozy and safe. I love you, she wanted to say in that instant but she couldn't. He'd probably already deduced it but she thought saying it would probably scare him. And she had to save herself from the disappointment of the awkward silence that would follow. He would, after all, never say, I love you, back. Molly pushed away the thought and burrowed even closer to him.

"I want to finish my story later." Sherlock mumbled into her hair. "I don't know what you hope to gain from it, but I'll tell you if you still want to know. Like this though, only like this." And he hugged her tighter to him.

"Sherlock, you don't have to..."

"But it will please you."

"You don't have to be uncomfortable to please me. I'm happy when you're happy too, remember. I want you to tell me willingly when you're ready."

"This is me informing you that I am ready."

"You don't seem ready."

"Molly..." Sherlock leaned back to give her a pained look. His eyes were asking her to understand something... understand...

...what?

Oh... pleasing her was his excuse to talk about it.

"You can tell me later than, before we go to bed? I'll make some tea and we can chat."

"That would be agreeable."

"Can we continue that little experiment of yours now?"

Sherlock nodded. "I need you to input somethings in my notebook later. You won't forget will you?"

"No, after this..." Molly licked her lips. Sherlock's pupils dilated at the unconscious action. "After this..." Molly was only an inch away now. He could feel the soft whisper of her words caress his lips.

He took the initiative this time and pulled her to him. He couldn't resist her lips anymore. It was not as overwhelming this time and he kissed her faster... harder.

Molly squeaked at the intensity. Sherlock pulled her closer, every inch of them touching. He licked at her lips like he'd felt her do before and than experimentally darted his tongue into her mouth. The sensation was... different... but not unpleasant. He did it again and this time Molly opened her lips and let her tongue caress his. Sherlock shivered at the feeling. This felt almost invasively in it's level of intimacy but Sherlock, determined not to give up just because of the strangeness of these new feelings, continued. Everything was going to feel invasive. He knew that going in. Relax, Molly had said, relax.

Sherlock let his body go slack and he tried not to think and to just concentrate on the feeling. On Molly. Instead of noting how odd it all felt he noted her reactions. Not every single one, that had been too much also, but the important ones.

The way she sighed against his lips when he stroked her back.

The way she arched into him when he kissed her just so.

How she let little moans and growls slip when he tangled his fingers into her hair and tugged slightly.

How her pulse raced faster and faster with every touch.

How he made her happy.

"Mmm-" Sherlock broke off the kiss, panting heavily. What was that emotion? It came on so suddenly like it had just a moment ago and it left him so... found and lost at the same time. He liked it, the being happy part, but it was also so... weakening, he thought in disgust. So this must be why people do such stupid things... his mind supplied. Sherlock shook it. No, he would go through this. He could get through this. Only with Molly. Molly would be his exception. Things would get less overwhelming. He was stronger, smarter than those people who did such ridiculous things for love. He was Sherlock Holmes. He could deal with anything.

"Sherlock? You okay?"

Sherlock looked up. "Yeah, fine..." He smiled. "Just fine."

He pulled her back to him and continued with his experiment.

Fifteen minutes later there were two very frustrated, very unsatisfied individuals struggling to get off each other and untangle their limbs so the other could go make the tea one of them had so strongly suggested when he'd decided they had done enough "experimenting."

Even though Sherlock's ribs ached he'd somehow ended up kissing Molly into the couch, pinning her wrists to the armrest and with her legs wrapped securely around his waste. After his suggestion he'd make some tea, they'd struggled to get back into the position they'd started in with Molly straddling his lap. This wasn't a very good idea though as it was setting them both up for more frustration.

Molly bit her lip. "Are you sure you don't want me to... you know..."

"What?"

Oh god, he was going to make her say it.

"Help you with that," she pointed vaguely downwards.

"I thought we agreed to go slow."

"We don't have to do it... I could... you know."

"I'll meditate it away."

Molly's face fell. Great. He would meditate it away and she would attempt to make tea in her state of arousal and maybe, just maybe, she wouldn't burn herself with the hot water as she tried to get her it down to manageable levels. It was, after all, almost never zero when Sherlock was around.

"Yes, good. Well, I'll just go calm myself by making some tea..." Molly sighed. "Like that will work," she whispered to herself as she got off him and walked away.

"Sarcasm?" Sherlock asked, his head tilted slightly to the side like a confused puppy.

"What?" Molly turned back around.

"Did you just employ sarcasm?"

Molly didn't know what the hell he was talking about. "Yeah... sure." Now Molly knew she was employing sarcasm but he didn't seem to catch it.

"I would not be opposed helping you. You have obviously never practiced meditation. I do not wish for you to fill frustrated."

"Um, no. It's okay, I'll manage."

"But-"

"It's just weird okay. If it was a mutual thing, it's different."

"I don't see how-"

"Look you don't want to, I'm not interrogating you as to the reason why. I don't want to. Let's just leave it at that."

Sherlock gave her a confused look, but then his eyes widened as an idea popped into his head. And then he looked away as he realized what this idea entailed admitting.

"I don't- I don't like it. Not really, but I... I want to, but I often..." Sherlock started to lock and interlock his fingers. "I prefer meditation." He concluded even though it was not at all what he had been thinking.

Molly walked back to him and sat on the coffee table in front of the sofa.

"What is it you don't like? Can you tell me? Eventually we're going to have to talk about it. You said we'd build up to sex, and you bought me a pack of condoms, so..."

"Yours had expired."

Molly gave him a stern look. He wasn't getting out of the conversation so easily.

Sherlock did not answer for a long moment. He kept his gaze on his knee where he fidgeted with his fingers.

"I'm afraid..." he whispered so softly for a second Molly thought she'd imagined it.

"Of what?

"You seeing me like that, loosing control...I- I don't know..."

"It's quite scary, which is usually why I prefer if the action is mutual... but Sherlock, just know that you can trust me okay? I want you to know nothing will change how I feel." Molly took his hand in hers. "I'll wait until you're ready. We'll take this slow. We'll deal with the frustration afterwards as best as we can and by our preferred methods. And when you're ready just know I won't laugh at you, or judge you, or anything."

"Is that also why you won't let me help you?"

"Sort of. I just would have found it weird if you hadn't let me reciprocate."

"Will you consider it?" Sherlock rubbed her wrist. "I would be much more open to the idea if you went first."

"I'll think about it. I lied earlier. The frustration will get to me eventually."

And with that she gave him a quick peck on the lips and went to put the kettle on.

Sure enough she burned herself with the boiling water. Their conversation had calmed her down but now her brain just wouldn't stop flashing bits and pieces of those incredibly well spent 15 minutes like a broken movie reel.

Continued Author's Note:

Fixed a previous chapter where I had mentioned whips. I knew that wasn't what it was called but I couldn't think of the word. It was a riding crop or just crop, but anyways, fixed.

Anyways only Sherlock would buy condoms (just to replace someone's expired ones) without the intention to have sex with them any time soon.

Anyways. REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW I wants reviews. Or this isn't worth writing.