It was six weeks later, before he finally said it, outright, to the world, to her. John had had those three little words festering in his heart and in his stomach for just a little too long, waiting to break free, waiting for the right moment, for the appropriate socially dictated length of time.

The way he had said it though, had taken him by surprise; it was hardly a romantic setting, sharing cold leftover pasta in Molly's lunch break.

They had snuck into the computer lab at Bart's with the tub full of food and two forks, feeling distinctly like rebellious teenagers and giggling like school children as they passed the 'no food, no drink, no body parts' sign, (the latter having being added after a certain, Sherlock Holmes, seemed to think it appropriate to experiment on fresh kidneys in the midst of med students and IT techs).

Molly shushed John, with her finger pressed against her upturned lips, as they reached the farthest computer desk from the door. As they sat down Molly sneakily pushed a fork into John's hand, under the simple guise of 'love's young dream' needing constant touch. The Tupperware box of pasta was then skilfully manoeuvred from her labcoat's vast inner-pocket to her lap, just under the desk they'd settled at.

John chuckled. "You've done this before haven't you Doctor Hooper?"

"Perhaps," she smiled. "Let's just say, I'm not quite the 'little miss goody two shoes' I appear to be." Before the pasta was opened Molly leaned forward, planting a teasing kiss on John Watson's lips, carefully drawing his lower lip between her smiling lips as she drew away.

He coughed slightly as they parted, gathering his composure. "I probably shouldn't be quite so pleased about that."

Soon they fell back into the usual 'how's your day been?', 'anything interesting crop up?' conversations, stifling giggles around tomatoes and pasta while the other told poor jokes. They took mouthfuls of last night's meal in a not so inconspicuous manner.

It was then, past a smudge of tomato sauce on his chin and a spec of basil lodged in her teeth, that he somewhat blurted out the sentiment. He was just staring at her, wondering just how someone sneakily eating pasta could look so beautiful, how her warm chocolate eyes sparkled with that hint of mischief they held.

"I just… I love you."

It had taken her a little for guard, but nonetheless she couldn't help but beam her response. "Well that's handy, because I quite love you too."

And then he couldn't help it, forkfuls of food finished and in the blink of an eye he was kissing her passionately, with purpose, as they smiled on the unfortunately necessary in between breaths and John whispered soft 'I love you's' over the skin of her sweetly perfumed neck as his moth worked a trail down from her mouth, taking in her hitched breath, the rising warmth of her rose-tinted skin, her heavenly soft skin.

His jacket soon found itself flung across the room, masking half a computer screen, that was flickering with the news of a medical intern's unread email; Molly's labcoat was long gone with the half empty tub of pasta, and soon her blouse laid open, showing the soft pink lace of her floral, practical, bra, although neither had a recollection of who had fumbled and released the buttons. She was straddling him soon enough, her hands beneath his shirt and her palms making their way over the smooth planes of his shoulder blades, her fingers brushing gently over the still sensitive skin of his scar tissue. Smug smiles and wanton caresses continued and the lab's IT room felt hot and steamy.

Over panted breaths and hands running through knotted hair (Molly's work didn't exactly lend itself to 'soft flowing locks') the click of the door opening went unnoticed. John and Molly did part, however, practically jumping away from each other as if their touch would now burn, and eyes blazing with a strange mixture of embarrassment and lust, when a loud *thud-crack* of a mug was heard, hot milky tea coating the carpet tiles and Molly's intern, Steve, gasping and "Oh God." As he stood glued to the spot.

Buttons were reclosed at a pace they weren't aware was achievable; Molly wrapped her labcoat back around her flustered being.

"Sorry, ah, Steve. Oh, umm… Gosh. I believe this is yours, dear," Molly said as she threw John's jacket back towards him from its place on Steve's computer. Making her way to the door and passing Steve, as she re-plaited her hair, she continued, "That was – ah – umm - highly unprofessional of me and – ah – John here. Won't be happening again, I assure you. Sorry, Steve, really - I – sorry." Molly's repetitive apologies continued even as she moved out of the room and down the corridor, the words only stopped after the thud of the chemical lab's door was heard.

Steve had somehow regained his composure by the time John had fully righted himself, well somewhat, he was rather unfortunate that his journey home would see his jacket held surreptitiously over his lap, Molly was thankfully quite lucky in that respect, her rosy cheeks being the only noticeable difference in her façade. As John excited the room, smiling but clearly uncomfortable he passed the still stoic intern.

"Hey, way to go mate. She's a hell of a looker. It's always the quite ones, eh?" Steve clapped John on the back, who left with a bemused look on his face.

John decided to poke his head into the lab on his exit from the hospital.

"Molls, I think your intern just congratulated me, on, well that. So, I suppose no need to be so embarrassed, I guess."

"You seem to have mistaken no need, with a further need to be embarrassed." Molly clapped her hands over her eyes, peeking through the gaps in her fingers at John. She made a noise that he had only ever heard humiliated woman utter. "God, Jesus. Oh mother of…"

"It's okay Molls, could have been worse… could have been Mike, and knowing him he'd have let it continue a little longer than necessary, before saying anything."

And it was that, along with her noticing the positioning of John's jacket, that had her laughing once again, loosing that uncomfortable air that had momentarily rested on her shoulders.

"John Watson, I love you." She grinned.

"I wouldn't Molls, you know where that got us last time," he chortled, "anyway I have to get back. Love you too, Molly Hooper." He left her with a soft lingering kiss, a promise of the evening to come, and Molly begged, just this once, for the clock to speed through her working day.

EMAIL.

From: sjacobs .uk

To: mstamford .uk

Subject: 'funny business'

You will never guess what I just walked in on between a certain Doctor Hooper and Doctor Watson…

EMAIL.

From: mstamford .uk

To: sjacobs .uk

Subject: Re: 'funny business'

Really?! Well that's a turn up for the books.

That sly dog.

Safe to say, the next time Molly had walked into the IT labs of St Bart's, on her floor she passed a sign reading:

'No Food. No Drink. No Body Parts. No Funny Business ;)'