So, about a week to go until the big day...are we getting excited for the big day or ignoring Christmas in favour of New Year's Day this year. Only trouble is then we'll be staring down the barrel of another hiatus...sigh!

Dream Lover

They kept the main lights off as they sat down on the sofa with their wine, lit only by the tree lights, the fire and the fairy lights strung up around the room.

For a short while they carried on their interrupted discussion on Molly's paper about cell decomposition but eventually it tailed off.

Molly yawned and sipped her wine; the long day starting to catch up with her. She glanced over at Sherlock who was staring into the fire; his face once again all angles in the firelight. She sighed longingly before blushing as he glanced round at her. Eager to distract him she asked him about his plans for Christmas, 'are you going to your parents again like you did last year?'

Sherlock smiled ruefully, 'err nope. Neither Mycroft or my parents have yet forgiven me for drugging them on Christmas Day last year. In order to postpone us having to resolve the situation Mycroft has paid for our parents to go on a cruise. They leave on Tuesday for two weeks.'

Molly wasn't sure whether to be happy or sad for him at this news. He sensed her confusion and smiled as he shook his head lightly, 'it's OK Molly you don't have to worry for me, I'm more than happy to not have to see my family at Christmas. Mum always tries too hard with Dad just humouring her, Mycroft hates it and unless we have someone acting as a buffer we are likely to do each other some damage. Not physically, at least not any more, just verbally and mother hates it when we fight. No, I think I'll spend Christmas alone this year.' He paused still looking at his half full glass of wine. 'Listen...Molly I didn't get a chance earlier but I wanted to talk to you about that kiss the other night. I've been thinking and I'd really like us to give being together a chance. What do you think?'

He felt as though he had rushed through the final part of his speech and finally plucked up the courage to look at her to see her reaction. It wasn't good. Molly was fast asleep.

Sherlock give a deep sigh and sat back on the settee watching her for a moment before gently removing the glass, that was in the verge of tipping over, from her hands.

'Molly,' he said quietly, 'you had to fall asleep now!' He smiled and shook his head at the irony of it. Now what was he going to do. It felt cruel to wake her up and send her on her way. She'd had an awful day at work and a long evening with him. He thought about making up the spare bed upstairs but found he just couldn't be bothered, he wasn't even sure where Mrs Hudson kept the spare linen and anyway it was cold as the heating had been turned off in that room.

He put his own wine on the coffee table, then stood before bending down and gently lifting Molly in his arms. She wasn't particularly heavy but it was difficult moving her without waking her too much. He finally got her into his bedroom and laid her on the bed before removing her shoes. He didn't think it appropriate to do much more although he acknowledged sleeping in her jeans wouldn't be particularly comfortable.

Once he'd got her settled he changed for bed himself and then went back to the settee to think.

MHMHMHMHMHMHMHMHMH

Molly woke up blearily in the middle of the night and realised she'd fallen asleep on her bed still fully dressed. She shimmied herself out of her jeans and kicked off her socks before pulling her top over her head and throwing her bra on the floor after it. She briefly thought about getting her nightshirt from the bathroom but found she simply couldn't be arsed; she was warm enough as it was and so she quickly fell back into a deep sleep.

The next time she awoke she immediately knew something was wrong. The room was still dark and she instinctively knew it was early morning but the most worrying part was that she was with someone, a guy to be precise. She tried to remember what she had done the night before and how she had got home but all she could remember was being at Sherlock's to help with the decorations.

All of a sudden the breath seemed to leave her body and she felt a wave of fear wash over her, her heart thudded in her chest. Her head was on someone's shoulder, their arm wrapped around her waist. She had her leg over his and could feel his erection against her thigh. But surely...surely...it couldn't be Sherlock. The only trouble was he smelt like Sherlock, she recognised his cologne it was unique to him and probably hugely expensive.

She shifted slightly wondering if she could leave the bed without him noticing but instead he pulled her closer with a deep groan which seemed to echo through Molly's body sending a wave of lust straight to her core, she felt a flood of arousal making her wet. His hand slid up her back and pulled her onto him further.

Molly let out a slight yelp as she made contact with his thankfully clothed erection. She tried not to squirm but failed as her body seemed to take on a mind of its own. How...how had she ended up almost naked in Sherlock's bed?

He let out another moan as his hands moved to her hips pulling her down so she was rubbing herself on his erect penis. She was sure he was still only half awake, if not completely asleep. And she still had no idea what she should do? If her brain had been fully engaged she would have leapt from the bed but it felt as though she were in a trance, her hormones were crying out for her to get some relief and he felt so good underneath her.

One of his hands travelled slowly, sliding up the length of her body until it tangled in her hair and he brought her face to his, his mouth seeking out hers in the dark and then...then they were kissing and Molly lost all control of herself.

She let her hands move across his body, touching and feeling him, one hand finding its way to his face, her fingers sliding across the rough stubble on his cheek. She heard herself moan into his mouth and it seemed to ignite him. He turned them over in one seamless move so he was lying over her and pressing himself against her, his hips rocking against hers seeking her warmth.

Molly could already feel her orgasm building, there was nothing in her world at that moment except this man and how he was making her feel. His scent was all around her, that pure masculinity that was all Sherlock. His tongue invaded her mouth and all she wanted was for his erection to be buried just as deep inside her, filling her and making her his.

Her hands moved to his loose pyjamas pushing them down until she felt he was released. In one movement she pushed her pants to one side and positioned him and then he just slowly pushed into her. It felt amazing, he felt amazing. He filled her so perfectly and all she could do was softly call out his name, 'oh God, Sherlock, God, yes.'

His face had moved to her neck and she could feel him kissing and sucking at her skin as he thrust himself within her. His hand had found its way to her breast and he used his thumb to swipe over her hardened nipple before lightly pinching and pulling at it. The darkness and the dreamlike state of it all just added to Molly's arousal and within minutes she felt her muscles start to clench and unclench, she felt her mind white out as her orgasm took over, her hands pulling him into her harder and faster until she felt his own climax overtake him. He came calling her name, thrusting himself into her as far as their bodies would allow, his seed pulsing deep inside her.

It was only as he fell against her, both of them breathing heavily, that the reality of what they had just done started to sink in.

Molly felt sick, what had she done? What had they done? How had this even happened?

She pushed at his shoulder needing him to release her, she just wanted to get away, to catch her breath and try to figure this out.

He rolled to one side and she quickly shimmied off the other side of the bed trying to find her way to the door in the dark. When she did she opened it and found herself in the kitchen of 221b with the bathroom on her right and it was into there that she fled.

She sat on the toilet and let her head fall into her hands, 'ohgodohgodohgod...what have I done? Shit, shit, shit. Come on Molly think.'

She cleaned herself up and then looked in the mirror washing some water over her face to try to make herself feel better. It was strange, she had just experienced perfect sex with the man she'd been in love with for years and yet she felt physically ill at what he must be thinking. She closed her eyes, her hands gripping the edge of the sink, 'this wasn't all me...he has to take some responsibility...stay strong.'

Thankfully there was one of his dressing gowns hung up on the back of the door so at least she didn't have to go back into the room more or less naked. She had contemplated just leaving the flat but her clothes were in the bedroom. She had a sudden flashback of herself removing them in the night. That must have been it...she'd fallen asleep so Sherlock had put her in his bed fully dressed. She groaned, 'oh God this just gets worse.'

She took a deep breath and pulled her head up high trying to look more confident than she actually felt. Time to face the music.

SHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSH

Sherlock was half lying half sat in the bed equally contemplating what had just happened but with a lot less angst.

One minute he'd been asleep and the next he appeared to be almost about to engage in sex with Molly and he wasn't quite sure how that had come about. When he'd finally come to bed Molly had been fast asleep and he'd made sure that he'd kept to his side of the bed as he made himself comfy.

He'd awoken to find an almost naked Molly lying on top of him pressing down deliciously on his very obvious erection. He hadn't given what had followed next much thought he had just acted on instinct and it had felt amazing. If he had had any concerns about engaging in sex with Molly they were long gone and he was now only calculating how long it would be until they could engage in it again.

Just as he was starting to wonder where Molly had got too and why she was taking so long in the bathroom he heard the lock being undone and her exiting the room.

He reached over and clicked on the bedside lamp glad that the bulb was not initially too bright and checked the time 7.27am. He groaned a little knowing that Molly would have to leave soon for work.

His bedroom door opened and Molly entered the room wearing his blue dressing gown and Sherlock felt his mouth run dry. She looked glorious. Her hair was tousled, her mouth showing signs of his kisses and she was sporting a very obvious love bite on her neck. The sight of her wearing his clothing was better than he had ever realised it would be.

She smiled at him nervously as she made her way around the bed and he noticed her obvious relief at finding her clothes on the floor by the bed. As she bent to pick them up she started to talk, 'listen...Sherlock, I...err...I'm not sure how that just happened but...well...it did so...well...we're both adults and I'm sure we can be...um..adult about it...yes?'

He narrowed his eyes and tilted his head to one side not really quite sure what she was trying to say. He was about to answer when she looked past him to the alarm clock and she squeaked in shock, 'oh God I'm going to be late, why didn't you tell me what time it was?'

She immediately seemed to lose her embarrassment as she hurriedly pulled on her clothes. As she made her way back around the bed Sherlock sat up sensing his opportunity was passing him by, he put out his hand to try and stop her, 'wait Molly...'

'I'm sorry Sherlock, I have to go. We can talk another time. I'll...I'll see you around.' She hesitated for a moment as though unsure how to take her leave from him but then turned and left the room.

So maybe that didn't go quite as expected...but then it did. So we have Sherlock all chilled and Molly freaking out. I think Molly needs a friend to help her put everything into perspective doesn't she?