Chapter 2

Wow, wow, wow, your response to this first chapter has been amazing. I am really glad to see so many of you following on with the sequel.

Maybe Mycroft was right, all though I begrudge saying that.

Normal disclaimers apply...so on with the story...

So much for his great return. Sherlock had spent the last five days alone with no one but his brother and Mrs Hudson for company. He had settled back into his home in Baker Street and the sheer joy at being back had soon worn off when he'd realised he had no one to share it with. Yes Mrs Hudson popped up rather too regularly with tea, cakes and biscuits (did she think he was Mycroft!) but other than a visit from his brother nothing.

He tried texting John, asking him to come round, trying to tempt him with details of the case but other than one response of 'F**k off' he'd heard nothing.

He had thought of Molly often, especially at night, when he'd slept alone in his bed. Comfortable though it was it suddenly seemed too large on his own so he'd slept on the settee last night.

It was during his conversation with Mycroft that he acknowledged his own loneliness to himself. They'd been talking about friendship, Sherlock was surprised that Mycroft never seemed to need anyone. He used to admire that trait in his older brother, used to try to emulate it himself the way younger siblings often do. But he knew now that he was different from Mycroft. He could no longer go through life alone, no longer wanted to. He'd spent too many months on his own, often having no one to speak to for days on end and he valued the few friends he had all the more for it.

Talking to Mycroft had brought his thoughts back round to Molly and for the first time he realised that leaving her alone in that hospital nearly two years ago had probably not been the best thing for him to do.

He'd been angry and embarrassed when Mycroft had confronted him about losing the lead on Moran. He knew this set back meant he would have to work longer and harder to bring down Moriarty's web, so when his brother had told him to follow up the latest lead in Italy he had gone. It wasn't so he could leave Molly, it was so he could come back to her.

He had hoped that Mycroft would have made that clear to Molly but it appeared he hadn't, and so Molly had moved on in his absence. Not just moved on but got engaged.

At first he raged to himself, determined to find a way to break them up. He would track him down, find out everything about this man, rip himself to shreds in front of Molly exposing his worst secrets.

He remembered back to that day in the lab when he'd met 'Jim from IT' for the first time. He remembered telling Molly 'the truth' as he had seen it about the Consulting Criminal. He also remembered Molly's tears and Johns reproach, 'that, that was not kindness'.

No, he needed to be smarter, play the long game...but he still needed to see Molly. He missed her, wanted to know how she was, what she had been doing.

He knew she was off today, he'd already acquainted himself with her current shift pattern at Bart's. He sent her a quick text Come to Baker St 10.00. SH

SHSHSHSHSHSHSHSH

Molly was just having her breakfast alone when she received the text from Sherlock.

It had been a few days since the kiss in the locker room and she hadn't heard anything from him since then, she wasn't sure she ever would.

She'd thought long and hard about whether she should tell Tom about the kiss but in the end she couldn't bring herself to do it. She knew for the most part it was cowardice. She didn't want to have to answer his questions about why she had done it and what she felt for Sherlock now. In all honesty she wasn't sure the answer to those questions herself.

She was still ashamed at having fallen into Sherlock's embrace so quickly. She should have been angry with him for leaving her, or distant with him because she now loves Tom not falling at his feet within seconds.

She looked at the text. Her thumb hovered over the delete key. She shouldn't go...she should go into town shopping, maybe pick up some wedding magazines...she should have lunch with Mary, they hadn't caught up in a while...she should...

Damn it... she found herself getting dressed and ordering a cab.

SHSHSHSHSHSHSH

When she arrived at Baker Street Sherlock was waiting for her. He was dressed in one of his slim fitting shirts, buttons straining to hold the material in place on his chest. His shirt and trousers covered by a long burgundy dressing gown. On most men it would look ridiculous but he somehow managed to not just carry it off but look gorgeous as well. He looked a bit healthier than when she'd last seen him and she was surprised again by just how handsome he was...all cheekbones and full lips. She had a sudden memory of how those lips felt when they were on her breast and she blushed.

'You wanted to see me?'

'Yes Molly, would you...would you like to...' 'Have dinner with me,' she filled in. Just as he finished with 'solve crimes.'

Oh...Molly was embarrassed. Of course, he wouldn't ask her out to dinner, what was she thinking.

In the end she spent the full day with Sherlock, initially in the flat as he spoke with two or three clients. At one point she asked if she should be taking notes like John said he had but Sherlock had just looked her in the eye and told her to be herself. She'd blushed once again under his gaze.

It was fascinating watching him interact with clients, seeing the deductions first hand. She had missed this closeness with him since he had left her so many months before. The glances between them, the shared jokes, his wry smirk at the stupidity of some of the people they were talking to.

In the afternoon they went out together to meet with Lestrade at a crime scene. Whilst there was nothing obvious that Molly could put her finger on it felt as though Sherlock was seeking out ways to touch her or be close to her...his hand on her back steering her through a door way, his thigh gently touching hers in the cab on the way over, subtle touches here and there which just made her even more aware than normal that he was back and they were close.

Each time it happened her skin would tingle from the touch and she had to keep reminding herself that she was engaged, that Tom would be waiting to see her later in the evening.

On top of all that she felt sorry for Sherlock. It was obvious during his examination of the mocked up skeleton that he was missing John deeply. She hadn't managed to get to the bottom of what exactly had happened between them but she knew the reunion had been violent and ended badly. She knew John and was sure that he would come round. It wasn't in his nature to hold a grudge but she did understand his hurt and frustration, after all she'd gone through it herself when Sherlock had abruptly left her in that hospital.

She was surprised she wasn't angrier with him. She had been. She'd spent months wanting to scream at him or slap him for going without so much as a note or a backward glance. But then she'd met Tom and he'd been so kind and so different to Sherlock. She had finally moved on, but now Sherlock was back and whilst she knew she was happy with Tom and wanted to continue that relationship she was enjoying this time with Sherlock.

It came to a head after they'd finished their visit with the train fanatic. Sherlock had ordered her to find maps of the London Underground system before offering to buy her chips when she suddenly realised she needed to put a stop to this.

She hesitated on the stairs saying, 'Sherlock, what was today about?'

'Saying Thank You', was his quick response.

She wrinkled her nose in confusion, 'for what?'

'For everything you did for me.' He looked her straight in the eye and she felt herself falling under his spell, how did he always manage to unbalance her. 'S'OK, my pleasure.'

Sherlock looked serious, 'No, I mean it.'

'I don't mean pleasure, I mean I didn't mind, I wanted to.' Molly wasn't quite sure what they were talking about now, the fall, the time at the cottage, sleeping with each other.

Sherlock clarified without being asked, 'Moriarty slipped up, he made a mistake. Because the one person he thought didn't matter at all to me was the one person that mattered the most.' Molly's heart missed a beat before he continued, 'you made it all possible.'

He sighed and then said sadly 'But you can't do this again, can you?'

Molly thought her heart was going to break, at that moment she was so torn. Her attraction to Sherlock was still so strong but her life with Tom gave her a future. When Sherlock added his congratulations she found herself babbling, telling Sherlock all about her life with Tom until she wasn't sure who she was trying to convince about her happiness him or herself.

Once again Sherlock pinned her with his eyes, 'I hope you'll be very happy Molly Hooper. You deserve it. After all not all the men you fall for can turn out to be sociopaths.'

'Hmm', her brain had stopped working, he was giving up on them, not even going to fight for her. Sherlock bent down to kiss her on the cheek before turning and walking away. 'Maybe that's just my type,' she said quietly to his retreating form.

As she walked outside the cold air seemed to match the sudden cold she felt in her heart. She watched Sherlock walking away before turning in the opposite direction to go and meet Tom.

I know, I know but don't give up on them just yet. There's still a way to go and Sherlock is playing the long game remember!

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