Once Again

.

.

.

.

There was a silence around her as she laid in bed. November's chill had made itself known within the room, and Molly wrapped the blanket tighter around her. It was too early to be having these deep thoughts. Too early to be shifting from one emotion to another. But it was refreshing nonetheless.

Somewhere along the lines Molly had realized that her marriage was probably doomed from the start. Would she ever find a familiar ground with her estranged husband? Would they eventually form something deeper in the nearing future? Was there even a 'them' to begin with?

As she laid in bed, a voice kept intervening any other sort of rational thought that had drifted to and fro deep inside her head. The little voice spoke of the normal and boring Molly that would and always will be. It spun little self loathing comments about how she was attractive and interesting as a school science project. Something particular, but never lasting. It told her that she would eventually fade into the background with the miniscule attention she gave to her outward appearance. It was the voice of her own low self-esteem.

The voice always reared its ugly head around the corner whenever she felt particularly depressed or thought far too much about her life.

Molly agreed to the voice that she didn't have one glamorous bone in her entire body. Her personality seemed to get her through well in life. Kindness and brains worked well with each other and her gentle nature seemed to prove best in the long run... However, the stress that she felt with Sherlock, both their families, and the ever see-saw way her emotions drifted between being loved by her husband, and if not that... then even a minor acceptance of being an equal... wore down on her resolve. So much had it gotten to her she had done the worst and kneed her husband right in-between the legs. Something completely unlike her and an act she was forever ashamed of doing.

Perhaps in was the voice in her head that had knocked her back a few steps and she actually contemplated what the rest of her life would be like if she was to remain married to Sherlock Bloody Holmes.

Most women would probably confine themselves to their work. Maybe for others it was a personal cell to place themselves as the depression wore away at their life. For the lucky few, they found other ways to make their loveless marriages bearable, right? Having a lover on the side was out of the question and Molly hardly had any friends. The most she could do, she thought over for awhile, was to completely change her own outlook on the situation.

It was decided then, as the young, ginger haired pathologist sat up in bed with a determined smile on her face. She would improve herself as a woman. Because, that's what women knew best, correct? Even if it was the smallest of changes, she would prove not only to herself—as well to her husband—that she was content in bearing the responsibility thrust upon them by their families with good intentions alongside a good heart.

Depression, if it came, would not stop her from finding some sort of steady ground with Sherlock. Molly with all her strength and determination would make the best of her marriage; even if it was a one-sided, unrequited sort of deal.

Transforming into a more confident Molly would be gradual, she concluded to herself. With time she'd come to accept the fact that it was alright not to be loved by someone. Perhaps, with even more time... Sherlock would come to grips with her company and not deem her so... offensive to his senses.

Unfortunately, things took time and there was a high doubt that Sherlock would even spend that much time trying to accept his fate. A divorce was still eminent. Had it been talked of? No. Was it jumping around secretively in the detective's mind? Yes.

6:50 AM

Molly had pulled herself out of bed, into decent clothes, and walked quietly into the kitchen. He was awake, of course. Just sitting there looking through his blog, probably awake hours before her.

The coffee was another one of the ritualistic things that would build the bridge between them. Always black coffee with two sugars. Sometimes she'd add some flavored creamer to hers and other times she would drink it as black and bitter as she could.

"I'm sorry for the other night." Molly was the first to break the silence. Her small hands busied themselves with cleaning up the coffee grounds that she had spilled accidentally from the small measuring spoon. "It just... kind of happened." she frowned then when there was no answer.

"But you always say such mean things," the whisper was assumed to be heard by only her and her alone. There wasn't an expectation of him standing right behind her. When she had elbowed him lightly they began to maneuver around the kitchen; almost like a dance. Her feet would take two steps and he'd only need one. Where she tried to dodge his presence, he'd insert himself further into the air around her. Finally, their little dance ended with her being trapped against the kitchen counter and his hands an her forearms.

He was giving her that look again. Always that cursed look that had her seeing stars and rainbows and making her heart race. Always that bloody look.

"Something's different about you, Molly." Sherlock said as he looked over the female below him. There was no trace of perfume, no makeup, not even a change of clothes he hadn't already seen. But he just felt it.

"Nothing's different about me, honestly." her voice didn't hint to any suspicious actions or even tried to hide whatever it was Sherlock suspected her of. Her voice was just honest and bland. Normal. Plain 'ol normal Molly...

"Oh, don't tell me." Sherlock frowned and his forehead creased. "Little Molly has been thinking hard again." it was somewhat spiteful the way he said the words so accusingly. As if could deduce her thoughts that easily! Arrogant git.

Molly frowned this time, she didn't like his tone of voice nor did she want this going anywhere downhill. The apology was said, he should have done nothing but went on with his life other than press her harder into the kitchen counter.

"Tell me about it." Sherlock demanded softly.

"I..." Molly gulped, his eyes never left hers. "I was thinking about life."

It was unusual for him to back away so suddenly as if the confession shocked him. How was it possible? That little Molly could think about such deep things Sherlock pondered for a moment and grimaced.

"The promise of 'consequences'..." her voice trailed off as the next sentence danced from her brain to her small mouth. "It's enough isn't it?" soon her voice raised in pitch as she became almost frantic. "Isn't it consequence enough to be married to you when you don't even love me?!"

She hadn't meant to falter like that, the words came tumbling out far too easily, and far too honestly. The close proximity was to blame. All those years of wanting, of waiting, and of dreaming for him to look at her with his full attention and not that silly glance he'd give her when he wanted something. The attention a man gave to a woman! Regardless of familiarity or relationship. She just wanted to feel a tad bit like a woman in his eyes, even for a moment. Because she knew... there was far too much child-like innocence, trust and kindness within her to really impress him on a level that changed his conception of her.

He was far too close for her to think straight. Far too close for her to hold that confidence she had told herself she would begin to work on.

Just too bloody close for her to be rational...

"Oh no... no..." Molly started to moan to herself as she realized that she had said love in one sentence involving him. He had told her from the beginning...

"I don't need love, Miss Hooper... Especially yours."

Her mind wasn't ready to reap the consequences of her words.

"Do you really love me?" he had asked her and she felt his large hands clutch her shoulders lightly.

Molly blanched.

"Prove it." Sherlock smirked.

"W-what?"

"I said prove it!" his voice raised enough to startle her out of her frozen state. "Better yet, show me."

Never mind. The shock was enough to freeze her back.

Alright, I hope this revised chapter was a bit more forth-coming and accepting to those who were on the fence about the chapter 6 I had originally updated with. To those who haven't read the original chapter, don't worry about it. It was horrible. Trust me.

Anyways, please send me your thoughts on this and if I kept a good pace with the characters and plot thus far.

Many thanks to my C.C.'s (constructive criticizers) who took time to straighten me out :D

Don't jump my bones yet about the two getting frisky. Let the romance boil through before we go anywhere near that scene yet ;)