A/N: For the April 4th prompt - "It was a rainy day." Rated T. The day after Right Under Her Nose.

Molly woke the next morning to the sound of rain hitting the window. Being English, rain was almost a constant companion, she just wasn't expecting it in "sunny California." Instead of the flirty sundress she was planning to wear, she showered then put on jeans, a light jumper, and her trainers. Armed with a borrowed umbrella from the hotel's concierge desk, she drove to the castle.

The dreary weather kept the number of visitors low so Molly had no problems finding a place to park. She made a mad dash to the entrance and was about to pay the entrance fee, only to be told by the woman at the ticket booth that she was there as Sherlock's guest.

"VIP guest, to be precise," said Sherlock from behind her.

Molly turned to smile at him. "Good morning, Sherlock."

He grinned at her. "Good morning, Molly." He offered her his arm. "Shall we?"

"We shall," she said, taking his arm. She thought he was going to take her around the castle again but he surprised her by leading her back outside.

"I'd like to show you my home." He smiled a bit. "That is, if you don't mind getting a little wet."

Too late. She grinned. "Not at all."

They ran hand-in-hand across the courtyard, laughing like loons. Molly was decidedly winded by the time they got to the tower's door but Sherlock wasn't breathing heavy at all.

"You're in incredible shape," she said, grinning. Like I didn't know that already.

Sherlock grinned back. "Thank you." He unlocked the large wooden door then stood aside. "Ladies first."

"Thank you." She walked into the room and Sherlock followed, closing the door behind him. The large room was completely round with a spiral staircase at the far side of the room. The sitting area was decorated in jewel-toned velvets and silks. Persian carpets decorated the hardwood floor and medieval tapestries covered the stone walls. Just one wall, really – no corners. They must all be replicas. The gourmet kitchen was done in steel and dark wood.

"This is charming," Molly said.

"Thank you," Sherlock said, beaming proudly. "I decorated it myself. The second floor is the guest bedroom and bathroom, and the third floor is my bedroom and bathroom."

"You must have a lot of guests – I imagine everyone would want a chance to sleep in a fairytale tower."

He chuckled. "Actually, I don't get many guests. It must be my personality."

She smirked. "You mean you're not this charming all the time?"

"Only around beautiful displaced Englishwomen."

Molly grinned happily. "Then I'm honored."

The entire time, a voice in Sherlock's head was demanding to know exactly what the hell he was doing. He ignored it. He was having far too good of a time talking to Molly. They had a shared interest in poetry and tales of chivalry.

"What I don't like are stories where the knight kills the dragon," Molly said, surprising Sherlock down to the core. The two of them were sitting on his over-stuffed sofa, talking about knights and damsels in distress. "They were probably just misidentified animals, killing livestock because they're predators and they need to eat other animals to survive. Then some idiot decided to sacrifice a virgin to it."

Sherlock smirked, but inside he was very curious. "What kind of animal do you think they were?"

She thought about it a bit. "Reptilian, obviously. Maybe a crocodile or a large lizard. The wings and breathing fire bit was added later to make it more dramatic."

His smirk grew to a pleased grin. If you only knew. "What would you do if you encountered a real dragon?"

Molly grinned back. "Run like hell in the other direction."

He chuckled. "Probably a wise move. If dragons were real then, do you think they'd still be around?"

"I doubt it – you don't hear stories about people finding dragons these days. Bigfoot or Nessie, perhaps, but not dragons."

"Perhaps they're just very well hidden."

"Perhaps." She looked thoughtful for a moment then smiled. "I want to change my answer – if I encountered a real dragon, I'd want to settle the pop culture debate on how intelligent they were, then I'd run like hell."

Sherlock laughed. "You want to know if he can talk."

"Basically, but I wouldn't stay for a chat – I don't want to be dinner."

His grin turned decidedly naughty. Oh, Molly, when I eat you, I promise you'll enjoy it.

Molly must have noticed his grin – she blushed prettily. "Um, so what's your theory about dragons?"

"Mine? I think they were exactly as the legends depicted – huge flying reptiles."

"But if they were real, why aren't they still around?"

"Scientists thought the coelacanth was extinct but it turned up again. Who's to say you won't see a dragon tomorrow?" Or right now?

Molly smiled a bit. "I'll make you a promise – if I see a dragon tomorrow, I'll stay long enough to ask it why dragons have vanished, then I'll run like hell."

Sherlock chuckled. "That's good enough for me."