Again, don't own anything, just writing lots of awesome stuff. teehee.

Chapter 2:

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Molly sat at the bar, taking another drink of the cocktail that Chip had ordered for her. They had been getting to know one another over the past 30 minutes, and Molly had barely noticed the amount of alcohol she had consumed.

"So, tell me about this 'very mean man'. Why is he mean, and why do you put up with it?" Chip asked. Molly laughed a bit, before shaking her head.

"No, I can't talk about him. I'm sorry. It's just...well...the last time I talked to a handsome guy about Sherlock, well, let's just say things got a bit bad. I can't risk that again. He may be a dick, but he's my dick...NO! I didn't mean...oh Lord." Molly blushed at her own statement, before she buried her face in her hand. Chip just laughed with her, before pulling her hand down.

"Well, he's a very lucky 'dick' then. You shouldn't let him take advantage of you. You've got a lot going for you, show it off!" He stated with a grin. Molly rolled her eyes, and was about to counter with reasons that it wouldn't go over well, when she saw someone approaching her very quickly, from across the club.

"Sh...Sherlock?" Her eyes widened as she watched his billowing coat fan behind him, his quick steps allowing him to reach her in minutes. Sherlock looked over to Chip, and sneered a bit.

"What are you doing here?" She asked bitterly, taking another large swig of her beverage. Sherlock looked her up and down, taking in the sight of her small frame, highlighted by her slightly more revealing clothing.

"You didn't answer me on the phone, I thought perhaps you were in need of assistance. Clearly I was correct." He stated as he looked at the glass she held in her hand, before glaring at Chip. The other man merely smiled and shook his head slightly.

"Hey, no trouble from me, mate. She's all yours. Molly, it's been great, hope we can chat again sometime." He bowed to her, ever so gracefully, before walking away from the two of them. Molly waved with a smile on her face.

"Bye Chip!" She giggled, before turning in a slump toward the detective again. She glowered at him a bit, and finished off her drink. Sherlock stared at her with a confused look on his face.

"So, what is it? What do you need, Sherlock?" She stated bluntly, waiting for his request to come spilling out, either the need for a body or access to the lab. However, he simply sat beside her, and ordered a glass of water.

"I rang you earlier, your phone answered for you. I thought, perhaps, since you didn't answer, that something had gone wrong. I felt it only necessary to check on your well-being." Sherlock said in his usual tone. Molly scoffed at the statement, and ordered another drink for herself. The consulting man beside her shook his head at the bartender, canceling her order. Molly's face flushed with anger, before nodding her head with more insistence. Again, Sherlock made a clear gesture toward the negative, giving the man behind the bar a pointed look. He then turned to Molly, who looked as though she could either weep or outwardly slap him. Sherlock stood up, and grabbed her by the hand, before moving to escort her out of the club. Molly, however, tried lurching away from him.

"I'm not leaving, Sherlock. I'm here with my friends! Despite what you may think, I do actually DO things in my spare time." She grumbled at him. Sherlock scanned the crowd, before spotting Mary. She saw him as well, and then saw the very inebriated Molly slouching next to him. A smile formed on her lips, and she just nodded her head, mouthing 'Thank you' to him, before she returned to dancing. He led Molly out to the street, where she promptly took to a nearby bin, hurling the contents of liquor in her stomach. Sherlock immediately held back her hair, ensuring the ends would not enter the streamline of stomach acids and cherry vodka. After she had finished, she stood up, revealing the tears that had formed in her eyes.

"Come on, I'll take you home." He nodded toward the street, hailing a nearby cab as he did so. Molly at this point knew she was in no position to argue, and agreed. As he helped her into the car, he gave her address to the driver. Moments of silence passed between them, before Sherlock spoke.

"Why were you speaking with that man, Chip? You didn't know him, he could have hurt you." His voice was quiet, almost nervous. Molly's filter for held back words was no longer functioning, so she blurted out the first thought that popped to her mind.

"What difference does knowing someone make? I know you, and you hurt me." She mumbled against the glass of the window. Her words struck him like a sharp blade to the throat, cutting off his ability to speak.

"It doesn't matter anyway. Chip's gay." she said after another moment of silence, a sigh leaving her as she told him the truth. Sherlock turned to her then, just as she looked up at him from her reclined position in the car.

"Oh yea...gayer than a maypole wrapped in lace and singing Broadway show tunes. He just broke up with his boyfriend of five years, you know. I guess we both needed a little cheering up." She shrugged as if the whole thing was an afterthought. However, she couldn't begin to decipher the small relieved smile that played at the corner of Sherlock's lips.

"So he wasn't...you weren't going to..." He began, unsure of how to approach the question.

"What?"

"You weren't going to let him 'shag you silly'?" He asked, deciding to use the very words her friend had spoken earlier. Molly's eyes widened, and she whipped her head around to stare at him.

"Where...where did you hear that?"

"I told you, your phone received the call for you earlier. I could tell right away you were at a club, and I overheard that annoyingly loud friend of yours say something about how you had had a bad day with someone mean who, and I quote, 'refused to shag you silly'." Sherlock told her how things had transpired, right up to his deciding she needed rescuing before anything bad could happen to her. Molly's face turned even more red, and she soon ran her hand over it.

"Those were her words...not mine." She said from behind her palm.

"Obviously." He mumbled, staring out the other window. He hadn't told her the truth behind his feelings, the real reason he had gone to find her. Not about the annoying thoughts that had flooded his head as he raced to find her, not about the nagging urges that stirred within his stomach at those thoughts.

"If he weren't...gay, would you have?" He asked plainly. Molly's face took on a contemplative look, considering her options. After a moment though, she shook her head.

"No, I wouldn't have." She declared proudly. Sherlock sighed out a bit in relief. He knew she had too much self respect for that.

"There's only one person I'd let shag me silly, and he's never wanted to shag anyone, let alone me." Her broken filter allowed the hushed statement to slip, and it was Sherlock's turn to look with a startling gaze at her. He watched her for a moment, noting the way that her smile was not exactly genuine, but more one that had been left there with a bitter taste in her mouth. Pained, fake, sad.

"Molly...I..." Sherlock began speaking, unsure of what he would say. However, the cab had stopped in front of Molly's building, and she immediately opened the door. Sherlock instructed the driver to stay there, as he climbed out from his side of the cab to go and assist her to her flat. She faltered on the steps, almost falling backward, before he served as a crutch. He then picked her up in his arms, and proceeded up the stairs to the front door of her building. Molly nuzzled into the warm material of his Bel Staff coat, her breathing becoming even and deeper in its sound. Sherlock looked down to see she was passed out in his arms. He fished through her bag, finding the key to her flat, and opening the door. After placing her on her bed, he removed her heeled shoes, setting them on the floor next to her closet. Sherlock then covered her with a blanket, trying not to stir her. As he moved to shut off the lamp by her bed, he could hear her mumbling.

"What was that, Molly?"

"So you're not gonna shag me silly?" She uttered softly into the pillow, a sad expression on her face. Sherlock smirked at the meek pathologist before him, before leaning down and placing a gentle kiss on her temple.

"No Molly. Not tonight." He whispered to her. She sighed out indignantly, but was soon back to a deep sleep. Sherlock shut the light off, and left her flat, being sure to tightly lock the door behind him. As he returned to the cab, he directed the cabbie to Baker Street. They drove away, and Sherlock's mind floated back to the lovely sight of Molly and her delightfully soft skin, her gorgeous brown hair, those small, but beautiful lips. His words came back to mind as well. 'No Molly. Not tonight.' Sherlock smiled a bit to himself, feeling the crashing chemicals in his lower abdomen once again.

"Not tonight, but soon. Very soon." He muttered the promise.

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And onto Chapter 3!