A/N: For the April 12th prompt - "Dubious intentions." Not related to His Favorite Escape. (I tried to connect them, couldn't get it to work.) Rated T. My take on the ambulance scene in TLD.

Sherlock watched from the gurney as Molly closed and secured the ambulance doors. He knew a lecture was coming.

"Laying it on a bit thick, aren't you?" she muttered.

"Pardon?"

"'Just tell me when to cough.' You're obviously high, hitting on me was unnecessary."

"But fun," he said, waggling his eyebrows. It was, actually. I should try it again when I'm sober.

Molly rolled her eyes. "I don't see you for weeks only to get summoned here and find you've completely spiraled. Sherlock Holmes, you need a keeper."

Not a bad idea, he thought, smirking. While she ran the drug test, which of course came back positive, he wondered whether "Dr. Molly Hooper-Holmes" was too much of a mouthful. Maybe I can get her to just take my name.

She looked at him dubiously. "You're sure this is for a case and not just you wanting to self-medicate?"

"I'm sure." I need you to believe me, Molly. I'm not destroying myself just because of Mary.

She swallowed hard. "You're going to die, and soon, if you keep going like this. How you're even still conscious, let alone walking, is beyond me."

"What must I do to make you trust me, Molly?"

"Stop. Stop all of this – the drugs, the secrets, the lies."

"When have I lied to you?" She was about to speak but he held up a hand. "I mean since this," he waved the hand to indicate his scruffy self, "started."

"How about a few minutes ago, in the doorway? You asked me to fondle your balls."

Sherlock smirked. "And what about that was a lie?"

She stared at him. "You're saying you were serious?"

"As a heart attack." She's actually blanching. Clearly, she thinks I'm headed in that direction. "Er, poor choice of words. I mean, yes, of course, I'm serious."

"Sherlock…"

"Come now, Molly," he said, grinning. "You've known me for years and you can't tell when I'm genuinely flirting with you?"

"Considering that it's never happened before, no."

"Really must remedy that," he murmured then he pulled her into his lap.

Her squeak of protest was silenced by his mouth on hers. She tried to push him away at first but then she gave into it, her arms wrapping around his neck.

I'm normally not one to be poetic, but she really does taste of sweetness and light. I've got no business even breathing the same air as her, let alone doing the things I'm contemplating, but I can't help it, she's the one thing I have left to believe in.

Sherlock felt wetness on his cheeks and he pulled back, studying her face intently. She was indeed crying, her eyes full of hopelessness.

"None of that, Molly Hooper," he murmured, lightly pressing his forehead to hers. "This will all be over soon. For the better, I might add."

"When it is, Sherlock," she murmured, smiling a bit through her tears, "come back to my place and I just might take you up on your offer."

Sherlock chuckled. "It's a date."