For the remaining of his investigations in London, Sherlock had the privilege to sleep alone in Molly's bedroom. Well, about sleeping, it was simply brain storming with nicotine patches on his arm. He suddenly sighed and sent a text to his brother.
« - Leaving London tonight. SH »
He jumped off the bed and took the time to have a last look to the room. The decoration was far from his taste, with a big amount of colorful flowers and cat pictures on the walls. But he will certainly miss this place. He will certainly miss Molly Hooper, the one who helped him so much without any reward. As a sociopath he wasn't able of empathy - that's what he thought though - but he couldn't help feeling uneasy at the idea of using again Molly's affection toward him to hide him in her house. He went out of the room, took his scarf and coat, then, at the moment to close the entrance door behind him, his stomach felt weird. He sighed, came back into the house and slowly walked to the spare room where Molly was sleeping. He discreetly came in and approached a sleeping Molly. She seemed so peaceful when he came closer, as if his only presence was calming for her. He bowed close to her face and heard her breath calmly. He kissed her on the cheek, pressing his lips on her soft skin. He smiled a bit as she turned a bit her head, deep into her sleep. The pleasures of the flesh were not pleasures to him but he had to admit that kissing Molly was rather…pleasant. In a slow movement, Molly turned her face to Sherlock's and, certainly dreaming, kissed him passionately. Surprised, Sherlock tried to pull off, but he was too much taken in that kiss, so he let go everything and responded gently to it. After all, he may not see her again, and he could at least give her that…quite pleasant….present. Molly grabbed him by the shirt as a reflex, as if he was one of her pillows. Sherlock smiled and whispered to her ear :
« - Was it a good dream ? »
He grabbed her hands and pulled gently off, letting him go off her. She let go a sigh of satisfaction and answered in her sleep :
« - Mmh yes… »
Sherlock smiled a genuine smirk and after caressing slowly her brown soft hair, got out of the room. He went to the kitchen and wrote a quick note for Molly. Then, he went out of the house, in silence.
When Molly woke up, she had a strange sensation in her body, like an unusual warmth she felt when she was close to the one she was in love with. She turned on the bed, but disappointingly, there was no Sherlock Holmes by her side. She sighed and shacked her head side to side to wake her up and chase the idea of Sherlock being closer to her. But she stopped. She was remembering something. A smell. His smell. And…was it a kiss ? Molly buried herself into her sheets, feeling her face suddenly hot. « You made such a dream ! » she told herself. She had a little laugh and then got up to have a cup of tea, still slightly smiling. She noticed a note on the counter of her kitchen. Sherlock's handwriting. She took it and red :
« - But was it really a dream ? SH. »
She gasped and let fall everything she had in her hands.