AN: I completely neglected this story, and for that I am sorry! I had a hard time with this chapter, and though I'm not entirely pleased with it I feel it needed to be done in order to keep the story going. Thank you for the support, I hope you enjoy! :)

Mary Watson sighed as she closed the front door. 'Poor Sherlock' she thought to herself. She walked into the kitchen where John had washed most of the dishes. "Oh bless your heart, you beautiful man! You did the dishes!" He turned around and grinned at her, "Of course I did, you made dinner, and it's only fair that I clean up."

Mary smirked as she circled her arms around her husband's waist. "Is that only reason you cleaned up? Or do you have ulterior motives, Doctor Watson," she said as she wiggled her brow suggestively.

John chuckled, "Love, I always have ulterior motives…" He released a sigh before continuing. "Actually I just needed to clear my head. This whole thing with Sherlock really caught me off guard." Mary nodded in agreement. "Yeah I know me too. But have faith in him. I think he will realize his feelings soon enough, he can't be pushed. He'll come around."

The doctor leaned in and pressed a kiss on his wife's brow. "You're right, I'll back off. I just hope he doesn't take too long. Molly is a great girl, and he has no idea what he is giving up." He brought his hands up and pushed his hair back. "Oh God Mary, I forgot! Molly? She must be absolutely broken up about this. I warned her this would happen, but I prayed I was wrong. Jesus…"

"John don't worry. I'll ring her up in a bit, invite her out and check for myself. Although the fact that she broke things off is pretty amazing. I didn't think she had it in her!" With that, Mary left the kitchen in search of her phone. She needed to check on her. Mary didn't have many friends (well real friends), but the few she did have, she was fiercely loyal to. And that loyalty now extended to Molly Hooper.

(21:10) Hey Molls, we missed you at dinner tonight! Can we meet up and have lunch soon? I'm in desperate need of grown-up time :)- MW

(21:12) Sure Mary, I'm sure you already know what happened. But I bet you have some questions for me, right?- xMolly

(21:13) I wouldn't be good at what I do if I didn't get all the facts first! How about lunch tomorrow? I can meet you during your lunch hour if that is easier for you?- MW

(21:15) We can go whenever. I took some time off from work, I figured that was the best way to avoid him for a few days.- xMolly

(21:20) Good call. Well if you don't have to be at work, how about we meet at your place for dinner, order in take-away, and drink copious amounts of wine? ;)- MW

(21:20) It's a date! :)- xMolly

Mary arrived at Molly's flat promptly at seven the next evening with a bottle of red wine. While she was completely enamored with her daughter, she occasionally needed some alone time, and a drink.

"Hello love," Mary exclaimed as she engulfed Molly into her arms. "How are you?"

Molly shrugged, "As good as can be expected, I suppose. There are moments I feel proud that I put my foot down, but then I begin to feel like I've made a huge mistake."

The two women enjoyed a cup of tea while their wine chilled, and for dinner to be delivered. Molly had not brought up Sherlock since the vague comment upon Mary's arrival, and she was unsure of how to bring it up. Instead they passed the time discussing the adorable Miss Watson, and Molly's work at Bart's. Finally when Mary thought she would burst, Molly let out a small giggle.

"I'm impressed Mary, you held out longer than I thought. But I can see that you're dying to ask about him, so go ahead."

Mary frowned a bit, "Sorry, I was trying to be patient. But you're right, I'm dying to know. Let's start with why… Why did you break up with him? Sherlock gave a brief explanation, but I'm sure he missed something. So why?"

Molly exhaled and sat further back on the sofa in an attempt to get more comfortable. "Well I wasn't lying when I said that I wanted more. Someday I would like to get married and have children, but I know that that is not what Sher- what he wants… Suddenly I pictured us with a house and children, and what should be a happy time in our life, he would be miserable. And I couldn't stand to see that happen."

"Hmm… that makes sense," Mary said, hoping to encourage her to continue.

"But really, I realized that it was a little ridiculous that I couldn't define our relationship. We have sex, we spend most of our time together, we have an 'understanding'… but what does that mean? Last week he got upset when one of his clients referred to me as his girlfriend. And when his parents were in town, he avoided me so that I wouldn't have a chance to meet them!" Molly said as she wrapped her arms around her knees. "I know I agreed to it, so really it is my fault, but I guess I didn't expect for it to bother me as much as it did."

"So you decided to end things?" Mary asked sadly. Tears began to run down Molly's face. "I had to Mary! There was no point in putting off the inevitable."

Mary reached over and grabbed her friend's hand. "Sweetie I know you might not want to hear this, but did you think about discussing this with Sherlock? I mean, no one thought he would ever concede to being in a relationship. But he did, for you! Maybe he would agree to this in time?"

Molly had to appreciate Mary's optimism. "I could end up waiting a lifetime for him to decide he's ready. After all, for seven years he knew about my feelings for him and he only did something about it a year ago! It's time to accept that I will never have the life I want with Sherlock Holmes." She had held herself together fairly well until she said his name; then the floodgates opened. Sobs violently overtook her body, turning her into to a big, weeping mess.

Immediately, she felt strong, comforting arms hold her and console her. A few minutes passed before her breath began to regulate. Molly sat up and wiped the tears from her face, "Thank you Mary. I apologize- I am not good company on your one night off."

Mary smiled. "Oh hush you!" she playfully chided. "I didn't mean to make you cry, I just wanted to understand. I think John and I are having trouble coming to terms with it."

"John? And you? Why would you be having trouble?"

"Well we love you, and we love Sherlock, so naturally we want to see you both happy. And right now, both of you look miserable!"

With a large cleansing breath, Molly replied, "If Sherlock was affected by this, I'm sure he is over it by now. One case- an eight or better- and he will have all but forgotten me. Well at least until he needs some toes for an experiment," she laughed ruefully.

'Wow, Molly underestimates her value. It seems this won't be as easy as I had hoped.' Mary thought to herself.

Just as she had advised John to not push Sherlock, Mary decided the same was to be done for Molly. Clearly she was still uncomfortable, and forcing her to talk about Sherlock would be detrimental. But if her time as a spy taught her anything, it was patience… She would give them time- for now- but soon she would get working on bringing her two friends together again.

The evening didn't last much longer, Mary needed to return to her family, and Molly was emotionally exhausted. She picked up the wine glasses and dinner plates and set them in the sink, deciding to take care of them later. Quickly petting Toby, she walked towards her bedroom, stripped down, and got into bed.

As tired as she was, she couldn't sleep. Molly was not used to sleeping without Sherlock; even on nights he was away on a case, he would call her and wish her a goodnight. While lying in bed Molly began to realize that while Sherlock didn't meet normal 'boyfriend' standards, he had made an effort. For her. And she had taken it for granted.

"Enough Molly!" she scolded herself. "What's done is done. I made my decision, and he agreed to it. So now it's time to move on…"

After she tossed and turned for another hour, Molly eventually fell asleep, with visions of Sherlock playing in her mind.

The following morning Molly woke to the midday sun streaming through her window. And though she was not hung-over, she did have a headache; the type of headache that stems from a night of crying. She was resigned to spend the day in bed until she felt a small paw batting at her face. "Alright Toby, I guess I've neglected you long enough. Let's go get you some food."

After she fed Toby, she took toll of the damage from the previous night. As was her 'break-up' ritual, she set off to clean her flat. Molly found it soothing to wash the failure of the relationship out of her home. She would clean, scrub, rearrange furniture, and pack up the ex's things until finally she was rid of their shared memories. The last time she cleaned- when she and Tom broke up- hadn't been too stressful. He hardly spent any time in her flat, so she wasn't entirely inconvenienced. At the end of her cleaning-spree all she returned to Tom was a sweater, a book he had loaned her, and her engagement ring. The fact that it was so easy to remove all traces of him from her home was a clear indicator that she had made the right choice in ending things with him.

But now how was she going to remove Sherlock from her home? Her flat was his bolt-hole, his refuge! Hell, he lived there for several weeks when he was 'dead' to the world. Little traces of him could be found all over the place (which was one of the reasons she fought so much with Tom). Now since they had ventured into this arrangement, memories of their time together in her flat smothered her.

Molly went around her home gathering random things he had left behind: a disposable mobile phone, a pair of glasses he had used as a disguise, even a few ribs for a skeleton he was trying to assemble. Wherever she went, she found something that belonged to him; and that was just in the living room! By the time she made her way to the bathroom, the box was more than half full. She was collecting the last of the toiletries he stored there and placing them into the box, when she came across the first challenge. Packing his dressing gown.

It wasn't Sherlock's finest dressing gown (like the silk ones he kept at Baker St.) but it was a reminder of how at ease he felt in her home. The blue robe hung behind the bathroom door right beside her lavender one. On several occasions- when her dressing gown was dirty or when she missed him- she would wear it, rolling the sleeves several times and breathing in his scent. She remembered all the times they would lounge around her flat wearing nothing but their dressing gowns; either because they were being lazy or in anticipation of their next moment of passion. That was thing with Sherlock, she never knew when the mood would strike him. And when it did, he had to have her right away. He would sneak up on her and lavish her body with his warmth. He would worship her body and her mind; giving her all of his attention. It was both thrilling and terrifying to have the great mind of Sherlock Holmes concentrating solely on her.

In those moments she almost, almost, felt loved. And while she relished it, at the same time she dreaded what was next- when his appetite was satisfied and he returned to splitting his attention on… well whatever caught his attention that day. It was almost as if she could see the fire- dare she say love?- in his eyes slip away before an unfazed mask would appear in its place. No he wasn't cold, per se, but he wasn't as affectionate as he had been minutes earlier. If it didn't sting so much, she might have even found it humorous the way she went from lover to acquaintance in a manner of seconds.

Molly allowed herself one minute to hold the dressing gown and breathe in the remnant aroma that was unique to the detective. When her time was up, she took the gown off the hook and placed it in the box with the rest of his belongings. The added weight became too much to carry (whether actual weight or the metaphorical weight of the memories, she was unsure) and soon she decided that that was enough for the day. She perched herself on the edge of the bed and let the tears consume her. Tomorrow she would tackle the rest of the flat, mainly her bedroom which contained most of her blissful memories with Sherlock. But tonight? Tonight she would cry.

End Notes: I hope it wasn't too bad, but I wanted to give Molly a chance to explain. I would like to point out that I don't think Sherlock is a bad man, I just think he doesn't know how to do feelings or relationships. But it doesn't mean he can't learn! ;)

Please take a moment to review, I appreciate any suggestions or advice y'all can offer! I plan to update soon, but reviews might persuade me to do so faster! :)