A/N: Love, love, love! This makes two months since I posted the first chapter. Good grief. I've written a Sherlock novel in two months.
In today's chapter: Plans for THE night, and Sherlock/John friendship goodness.
A quick note: I thought I'd explain exactly what was in the chocolates. These things were mixed in different combinations and amounts in different flavors.
Testosterone: the male sex hormone. Produces aggression, sexual urges, appetite stimulation
3, 4-methylenedioxy-N-methylamphetamine: street name, Ecstasy. Produces inner peace, euphoria, and arousal
Tetrahydrocannabinol: THC, cannabis, found in pot. Produces relaxation, increased appetite, reduced aggression
Sildenafil citrate: Viagra. Improves sexual function: when combined with Ecstasy produces "sextasy," which compensates for erectile dysfunction caused by use of opiates. Also decreases post-ejaculatory refractory times
Arginine vasopressin: influences pair bonding
L-3, 4-dihydroxyphenylalanine: a psychoactive, dopamine-variant drug that can cross the blood-brain barrier where normal dopamine cannot. Increases dopamine concentrations, resulting in mood alteration
Told you I did some research. (grins)
S&MS&MS&MS&MS&MS&MS&MS&MS&MS&MS&MS&MS&MS&MS&MS&MS&MS&MS&MS&MS&MS&MS&MS&MS&MS&MS&MS&MS&MS&MS&MS&MS&MS&MS
Nearly an hour later, as Sherlock and John were about to go off on another search, Molly stopped Sherlock by touching his sleeve. "Can I have a few minutes before you run off, please?"
"I have work to do, Molly."
"Yes, but this is important."
"So is the work."
"Sherlock, I'm not asking for hours, I'm asking for maybe ten minutes."
He stopped himself from the comment he would normally make. This was not the time to have another fight. And he did need to speak with her about tomorrow night anyway…
Oh.
The text he'd sent came back to him with razor-sharp clarity.
He'd implied sex on their third date.
Which was about to be tomorrow night.
Well. Yes. Well.
He took a deep breath. "Sorry. Yes. Go on."
"I'll, ah, I'll just be downstairs," John said hastily. "Bye, Molly. See you soon."
"Bye, John," she answered, waiting until he was gone to turn back to Sherlock.
"What you said, in your text. It sounded joking but you don't do jokes. But you've been different lately, so I don't know. So were you joking or not?"
He hesitated a moment before answering. "What if I wasn't? And what if I said I'd like to see you tomorrow night?"
Molly felt her heart rate speed up and a blush touch her cheeks, but managed to keep her voice fairly steady. "Are you sure, Sherlock? Less than two hours ago you had a fit about me not being your girlfriend, then suddenly you decided I was. This isn't something you can run hot and cold about."
"I know that. I'm not." He drew closer to her and stared intensely into her eyes. "As you pointed out, we've known each other for years. We're friends who have taken that friendship to another level. We trust each other, and it's something we both want. I don't see what purpose it would serve to delay things, do you?"
She shook her head slightly, her breath catching at the look in his eyes. "All…all right. Well then, your… your place or mine?" she asked, realizing how cliché she sounded even as she asked. She groaned mentally. Way to go, Molly. Fortunately for her, Sherlock simply took her words at face value.
"Yours would be best for this, I think. John has invited Mary over to spend the weekend. Perhaps it would be best if I spent the night with you, as well. Oh, they want to double with us, I was thinking Saturday night, get it out of the way, and I might be better at being nice to her if I'm with you at the time. Is all this acceptable?" He stopped and looked at her expectantly.
"What? Oh. Yes. Yes to everything," Molly said, the enormity of the situation choosing that moment to hit her on the head with a large proverbial brick.
Sex. She was going to have sex tomorrow night. With Sherlock Holmes. And he wasn't going to just do it and run off like one or two fellas she'd known. No, he was her boyfriend, and he was going to spend the night.
Oh, dear God. It was a good thing she'd saved her panicking for later, because she was going to need it.
He smiled. "Good. Let's have dinner first tomorrow night, shall we? I understand that it's advisable to have lots of energy for this, and I have been rather hungry lately."
"You're not the only one," Molly said faintly, feeling weak from the look on his face.
"I'll text you with the details, then. The usual time?"
"Yes."
"Good. I'll also text you when we find something. Try not to worry in the meantime. Whatever Moriarty's plan is, I think you'll be safe."
"What about you?" she asked softly.
"I'll never be safe, Molly. Until he's stopped for good."
"I know. Just… please be careful?"
"I'm always careful."
She raised her eyebrows.
"Fine, almost always."
"Good. Well, I'll hear from you soon, then."
"By tonight, definitely."
She moved against him, and their lips found each other's fluidly, easily, and Sherlock felt a familiar combination of desire and discomfort. It was a constant tug-of-war within him, each gaining or losing ground every time he touched Molly sexually. When he let it happen the discomfort still remained, and if he tried to shut himself down the desire lingered. It seemed he could find no peace: whether or not that was by his own design he couldn't say. But he suspected it was.
When the kiss ended she smiled at him. "Go on, then. I know better than to hold you back long from your work."
"It is a testament to you that I have not already left, Molly Hooper," he said with a quick grin. "I'll be in touch."
With a squeeze of her hand he was gone.
The cab ride was silent for the first few minutes, which was about how long Sherlock figured John would last. But ten minutes later John had surprised him and still not said a word. He sighed. Fine.
"Go on," Sherlock told his best friend.
"Go on what?" John asked.
"Say it. Ask it. Something. Anything is preferable at the moment to silence."
"That's a first for you," John said with a smile. "All right, then: do you have any idea what you're doing?"
"In regard to what?"
"In regard to Molly, you idiot," John said.
"Yes."
"Are you sure? You've been…"
"Tetchy."
"Wired, the past few days. Not normal wired, either. This is different. Is it Molly?"
"She does have something to do with it," Sherlock answered.
"So what did you need to examine?"
"A little gift from Moriarty."
"What is it?"
"Chocolates."
"Poisoned?"
"No."
"Why sweets? What's he playing at?"
"Apparently, romance."
"What?"
"For some reason, it seems he wants me with Molly."
"That's insane," John said.
"Consider the source," Sherlock answered remotely.
"Sherlock, do you understand that if for whatever crazy reason you're right, it seems to be working? You're angry, you're jealous, you're smitten…"
"I am not."
"Signs point to yes on my Magic Eight-Ball, Sherlock."
"Then your Magic Eight-Ball is wrong. You shouldn't be getting clairvoyant counsel from a child's toy, anyway. Or anywhere else, for that matter."
"I don't have to be clairvoyant, or you, to know jealousy when I see it. Or to know that Molly's lipstick is on your mouth."
Sherlock wiped his lips and sighed. "What exactly do you want me to say, John?"
"I dunno. That this is madness? That you're not gonna freak out and run away from Molly, maybe? We all get scared, Sherlock. But you can't let that stop you. You've got to feel the fear and do it anyway."
"You should put that on a poster. You'd make a fortune," Sherlock said wryly.
"Sherlock…"
"I am not running away from Molly. If I was, I wouldn't be spending the night with her at her flat tomorrow night."
John looked gobsmacked. His eyes grew impossibly wide.
"Oh, and meant to say, we're free to double Saturday evening," Sherlock added with a smirk.
John cleared his throat. "Well. That's, ah, that's great, Sherlock. Really good."
Sherlock inclined his head.
"So, you're going to…"
"Need a new nickname?" Sherlock asked with a pointed stare.
"That's not my nickname for you."
"What is your nickname for me?"
John shrugged and smiled. "Annoying Dick?"
Sherlock laughed.