A/N: For the June 1st prompt - "Write about something to hold onto." Rated T. Immediately follows Jealous of a Dead Man.

Molly stared at him. "What … what am I supposed to say to that?"

Sherlock sighed quietly. "Don't say anything. You don't need to, I know you'll always be Ford's. Just … forget I said anything." He finished his breakfast quickly. "I'm going to see what needs to be done in the backyard." He was gone without another word.

She sat with her elbows on the peninsula and her head in her hands. Sherlock's in love with me? Has been since we met? What in the hell do I do now? She could almost hear Ford's delighted laugh. Was he playing matchmaker? Did he know how Sherlock felt? I don't care what Sherlock said, we need to talk about this.

Molly got up and tightened her dressing gown around herself then went to the back door and stepped outside. She found Sherlock on the porch swing, staring off into space.

"Hey," she said softly as she sat down next to him.

Sherlock came back to reality and sighed quietly when he saw her. "I don't need your pity, Molly."

"This isn't about pity. Did Ford know?"

"No. Or at least, if he did, he didn't say anything."

"The switch was his idea. I think he knew and he wanted you to have not just a second chance but a happier life." She gently took his hand. "I don't know if you and I will ever have what Ford and I had, but I'm willing to open up to you, Sherlock. We're … spouses but we need to work on the other things too."

"Like being lovers?" His look was so hopeful that she almost smiled.

"Like being friends. Until yesterday, we were barely more than acquaintances, your feelings for me aside. Ford told you pretty much everything about me, but I know so little about you."

"You knew Ford, that's all you're going to need to know," he muttered, not looking at her.

She lightly touched his cheek and he turned to her again. "You're not him. The world will think you're him but I know the truth. You're your own man, a man I very much want to get to know."

He stared at her as if he couldn't quite believe his ears. "I'm a cocaine addict who never succeeded at anything he did after uni. It's only a matter of time before the withdrawal symptoms start and you start to hate me. I've been through withdrawal before, I know how I get. Once you've kicked me out, I'll have nothing, not even my real name, except the memory of a few bright days I spent as your husband."

"Sherlock…" She sighed quietly. "I'm not going to kick you out, no matter how bad you get, and I could never hate you. Giving both of us this chance was Ford's dying wish so as far as I'm concerned, this is for life."

He stared at her. "Molly … thank you."

"You're welcome." She gently squeezed his hand. "I get the feeling you never had unconditional support when you were growing up."

"You'd be right," he muttered. "Ford was the golden child, I was 'the other one.'"

"Well, you have it here. No matter what, I will be there for you." For a moment, she thought he was going to cry, but then he suddenly pulled her into his lap and hugged her fiercely. She hugged him back, one hand lightly stroking his curls.

There was the sound of someone clearing their throat and a male voice Molly didn't recognize asked, "Mr. and Dr. Holmes?"

Both of them looked up to see a man in a suit standing at their garden gate and Molly felt Sherlock tense up. The man held up a badge. "Detective Inspector Lestrade. Mr. Holmes, could I speak with you for a moment?"

"Yes, of course," Sherlock said.

Molly got up then watched as Sherlock got up and walked over to the detective. She knew by the look on the man's face why he'd come.

They found Ford.