I have to say a thank you in this chapter and those that follow to MayBeItsJustMyType who pointed out that following those stubbly Setlock pics (be still my beating heart) that maybe given they're camping we could have a stubbly Sherlock here as well. MayBe your wish is also my wish and so it is done.

Chapter 7

His vague thoughts of kissing her proved futile though as Molly, oblivious to his intentions, fell back onto the grass and stretched her arms above her head. 'Well, I have to admit Sherlock. Your idea was a better one than mine. I've enjoyed today.'

She sat up and then started to stand. 'Shall we get back to the campsite? I quite fancy going to the little pub in the village tonight, what do you say?'

He let his lips quirk up at her happiness and enthusiasm. 'Sounds good to me. I always like a drink or something to relax me when I've finished a case.'

Molly glanced at him as they made their way back to the car. 'Yes, and I can imagine what that something sometimes is. Well you're sticking to the straight and narrow tonight mister; nothing stronger than alcohol.'

He mocked saluted to her and then laughed along with her. He felt more than content with his life at that moment.

By the time they got back to the campsite the weather had started to cool off as the sun started to make its way down to the horizon.

'I'm just going to get changed.' Molly gestured to the tent but Sherlock frowned. 'Why? I like what you're wearing now.'

He saw the faint blush spread over her cheeks at his compliment but she stood her ground. 'Well...um...thanks, but it's getting chillier.'

She made her way into the tent and flicked on the lamp to counteract the tent taking the edge off the dying sun. Sherlock knew it was a little immoral but he couldn't help but watch her silhouette as she pulled the dress off over her head before pulling on her jeans and a cotton jumper.

He knew he wanted her physically but he worried that any action now would just have the potential to ruin their friendship. He was honest enough with himself to know that he would make poor boyfriend material; even the term alone had him wincing and grimacing. If he were sensible he should just lock his feelings for her away and ignore them.

He went and freshened up in the shower blocks and changed out of his shorts and into his jeans paired with a button down shirt, still casual for him but he felt a little more like his London self and it strengthened his resolve to get the better of these pesky emotions. Sentiment was never something he'd accept or believe in as being positive. He looked in the mirror as he dried his face but couldn't help the feeling that he was making the wrong choice.

As he rejoined Molly back at the tent she frowned as she looked at him. 'Sorry, are you keeping that?'

She pointed to the stubble on his face as she commented and he ruefully rubbed his hand over his jaw.

'I mean I noticed you hadn't shaved this morning but I didn't really think to comment but it's getting quite noticeable now isn't it?'

He pursed his lips not liking to admit to an error but it seemed he had no choice. 'Yes, well in my haste to get down here it appears I forgot my razor. Why, don't you like it?'

Molly's eyes widened and she bit her lip making him wonder what she was thinking. 'No, no I do it's very...um...rakish.'

He wasn't quite sure what to make of that comment or the slight smirk as she turned away and he rubbed his hand over his face wishing once more he hadn't forgotten his shaver. He preferred to be clean shaven just as much as he preferred others to be.

The pub was like any normal village pub on a weekend full of both locals and holiday makers all mixing in together creating a buzz of energy and conversation. They made their way to the bar and ordered up some drinks before sitting down at one of the tables and it wasn't long before they were drawn into conversation by some of the people on the next table who were also down from London for a long weekend.

Sherlock found himself actively engaging in a conversation with the older woman in the group whom it turned out was a retired research chemist. Their fields of interest overlapped and Sherlock had even read a couple of her research papers back when he had been studying chemistry at university.

He lost track of Molly for a while knowing that she was engaged in her own conversations but it was only when his companion excused herself to go to the loo that he looked around to see where she had got too.

He quickly spotted her at the bar, where she had gone to buy them a new round of drinks, but she appeared to have been waylaid by one of the locals who was obviously chatting her up. His whole body language exuded flirtatious confidence. From the way he was turned to face her with a ridiculous grin stretched across his face to the way he kept pawing at her, a touch here, a touch there, laughing at her comments. Sherlock could feel anger and bile rising in his throat at the thought of this cretin touching his Molly.

He'd spent the day dwelling on his feelings for Molly going through the arguments for and against a relationship with her but as he sat watching her talk to this clot he started to understand that maybe there was no choice; no decision to be made. Now he had acknowledged he had feelings for her he had no other choice but to pursue them.

He was on his feet in a matter of moments and as he came up behind Molly he heard the guy asking her if she was single or here with someone.

'Well, I'm here with someone but we're not...'

'There you are Molly; I wondered where you'd got too.' As he came up beside her he put his arm around her shoulder. She looked up at him and he could see a look of confusion but he just ignored it as he bent his head and captured her lips in a short but very passionate kiss.

He wanted to take the kiss further but even he knew it wouldn't be appropriate in the middle of the pub so he reluctantly pulled away watching Molly's expression move from dazed to puzzled. In order to head off her questions he turned to the guy she'd been talking to and held out his hand. 'Hi, I'm Sherlock.'

The chap took his hand and shook it, giving his own name as Gary but Sherlock could see he had already lost interest. The chat was short and boring and then Gary excused himself with the lie that he'd seen a friend and Sherlock knew he would move on to his next target which was no doubt the two girls at the end of the bar. He had no inclination to tell him that they were in a relationship with each other and would have no interest in him instead he turned his attention to Molly whom he noticed was now starting to look exceedingly angry.

'Do you want to tell me what that was?' She held up one hand in a stop gesture, 'and don't try to play innocent like you don't know what I'm talking about.'

Sherlock sighed. 'Let's take our drinks outside. If you're going to slap me I'd rather there was a smaller audience.'

He picked up his pint and made his way into the small beer garden. Frustratingly this seemed to be where the smokers were and Sherlock made a point of breathing in deeply as they went past them, aching for a dose of nicotine to sooth his emotions; emotions he was very unused to feeling and dealing with.

He sat down at one of the tables with his legs either side of the bench and Molly sat next to him, facing him and mirroring his position.

'Well?'

He shrugged. 'I would have thought it's obvious.' He took a sip of his drink enjoying the feel of the cool liquid sliding down his throat.

'Not to me it isn't. He seemed really nice and he was interesting. You aren't my keeper you know. You can't go deciding who I date and who I don't.'

'Maybe I don't want you dating anyone.'

If he'd hoped she'd get the hint from that sentence that he wanted to be the one dating her he was sadly mistaken.

'Oh, that would suit you perfectly wouldn't it. Keep me a single old maid so I'm available at your beck and call every minute of the goddamn day...'

As she raised her voice Sherlock just found he was mesmerised by her. He wasn't listening to what she was saying he was just watching the colour rise in her cheeks, the way her breasts moved as she breathed more heavily. He found he just wanted to kiss her again and this time properly and so that's what he did.

He cupped her cheek with one hand hearing her squeak with shock and then his lips were on hers. This time he opened his mouth and tilted her head slightly so he could deepen the kiss and he was acutely aware of how it was making him feel. It was like he'd injected the best drug ever. His mind was completely focused on his physical reactions; the taste of her, the smell of her, her small hands first pushing on his chest and then gripping handfuls of his shirt and pulling him closer as she started to engage with the kiss.

He felt as well as heard her moan and it sent blood pulsing straight to his groin. He wanted to drag her onto his lap and feel the weight of her pressed against him. Whatever he'd thought kissing Molly would be like he had seriously underestimated it. In this moment he felt as though he could kiss her for the rest of his life and it would never be enough.

His hand was gripping her hip now, his other still holding her face and even though he was starting to feel dizzy he didn't want to break the kiss. His eyes were shut and all his thoughts were narrowing down to her lips and how they felt against his own. It felt almost desperate now, as though they were in a battle with each other for dominance of the kiss but neither was prepared to back down.

It was only when someone yelled 'get a room' that they broke apart both breathing heavily and staring at each other.

'Jesus, Sherlock...what the hell was that?'

He swallowed heavily as he tried to get control of his body and its reactions, glad his shirt was untucked and covering his crotch. He was gentleman enough to not want to embarrass either her or himself, not this early on into what he freely admitted now was a relationship.

'That was me, telling you that I like you.'

She let out a puff of air. 'I know you like me...oh...do you...I mean...like me like me.'

Now it was his turn to be confused. 'How many kinds of "like you" are there?'

She noted. 'With you...previously none, now...hundreds. I need you to spell this out for me Sherlock so there is no confusion.'

He took a deep breath. 'I like you Molly Hooper. More than like you. I would even go so far as to use the despicable term that I fancy you and I would like us to be in a relationship. Does that spell it out clearly enough?'

She was still frowning but he could see a burgeoning hope in her eyes. 'And this isn't some ploy, some fakery...you don't need me to go undercover with you?'

At this he couldn't help but smirk. 'Well, I was kind of hoping you'd go under the covers with me back at the tent but other than that there's no ulterior motive.'

'Oh.' She sat in silence for so long staring at the bench that he grew nervous and restless. 'Molly...talk to me. What's wrong?'

'Nothing...I'm just...well surprised that's all. Sherlock, you know how long I've liked you. I'd given up hope that we would ever be more than friends. It just seems...I don't know...it's going to take me a while to get used to the idea.'

'So what would help you get used to it quicker?'

She smiled and looked up at his nervously through her eyelashes. 'Maybe if you kissed me again.'

And so he did.

So have you forgiven me for not letting them kiss at the start of the chapter? And do you like StubbleLock?

I'll be back soon with another exciting edition of Camping Fever! Stay tuned.