Hi, Dears, I'm so, so sorry I made you wait this long. I hope you can still enjoy the last chapter of this story of mine. Thank you for still reading it and that you didn't lose your interest. Enjoy and tell me something nice after reading. (; Thank you very much for all your support through the months, I loved every bit of it.
Oh and I'm terribly sorry that I hadn't answered to the guest reviwer who wanted to translate this story to Chinese. I would be honoured. Could you please write me a pm?
Have a lovely weekend,
Lanceletta
Molly's eyes snapped open as she heard the sound of the man.
'John Watson?' He asked uncertainly.
Sherlock was in front of him immediately. It was enough for him to observe the doctor and he already knew what was important and sighed deeply. Lestrade and Molly stepped ahead as they asked simultaneously. 'How is he?'
'With a gentle smile he nodded.' He is fine, though he will need a few weeks to recover fully.' You can go in an about hour later. The sedative's effect is still quite strong; he may drift in and out of sleep.
'Thank you, doctor.' Molly smiled at him gratefully the two men just nodded agreeing. As they stood there watching the door closing behind the doctor, Sherlock's hand found Molly's. She clenched her fingers around his immediately and saw him smiling without looking at her.
With a loud thud the waiting room's door sprang open and a very dishevelled and very pregnant Mary Watson stormed in.
'How's he?' Her eyes were worried but stone cold at the same time as she addressed her question to the consulting detective.
'He is out of surgery, Mary. He is fine.' Sherlock's voice was low, but steady though he was looking a bit worried.
'Fine? Don't tell me he is fine. He's been shot. Oh, bloody hell, Sherlock! What's happened?'
'He saved Molly's life.' Sherlock stated simply.
'Ah...'Molly gasped behind Sherlock. 'I didn't know this. How?' she demanded.
Mary's expression softened and her face told about her honour and love for her husband. 'Tell us.' she insisted.
'After Molly run out of the room the henchmen she had shot flung after her but John sprang up and jumped on him. They were fighting over the gun when he got injured. Of course our good doctor found the soldier inside himself and got exasperated like a bull. He finished the unlucky man with one deadly shot after he snatched his gun.' The whole story seemed to be so simple almost boring from Sherlock's mouth that Molly frowned at him in confusion.
'I think I owe him so much I hardly can imagine how to pay him back what he did, considering how much he risked because of me.' She said glancing at Mary.
'No,' Sherlock cleared his throat before he continued, 'I owe him so much,' he murmured.
As they stood there the door of the room area opened and a middle aged nurse gestured towards them. Mary hurried to her, with Molly and Sherlock on her heels.
'Are you John Watson's relatives?'
'Yes, I'm his wife.' Mary smiled shortly but she was clearly impatient.
'You can come in, he is awake.'
'Oh, thank God.' She laughed happily. Relief was clear on Mary's face as she followed the nurse inside after she gave a wide smiled glance to Sherlock and Molly.
'Let us know if we can go in,' Molly said quickly before the door shut behind Mrs Watson.
They stood there staring at the door, not knowing if that was the time for the conversation they knew they had to have.
'He is fine then,' Molly broke the silence smiling at the detective.
'Yes, he is,' Sherlock nodded but Molly still sensed the tension in him.
'What's bothering you?' Molly stepped closer and looked into his eyes.
'Nothing,' he answered and turning around he walked to sit down next to Lestrade who apparently had dozed off sometime between the surgeon's words and Mary's dramatic entering. Sherlock leaned back with steepled hands and closed his eyes.
Molly stayed there, not intending to follow Sherlock; he clearly wanted to be alone.
A few minutes later the door opened and Mary peeked out. 'He wants to see you.'
Molly and Sherlock looked at her expectantly. 'Both of you.' Mary nodded.
Sherlock stood up fidgeting with his suit, than he straightened the newspapers on the table when finally with a deep sigh he walked next to Molly and grabbed her hand. With tight smile he opened the door to the corridor to follow Mary.
John's room was a double but he was the only patient in it. As Sherlock entered John lifted his gaze upon him. 'You owe me a quite elaborated explanation, you git. I would punch you in the face if I could.'
'Yes, I think so,' Sherlock nodded sincerely. 'Ask what you want to know. I'll tell you everything.'
'You will now, won't you?' John huffed.
Sherlock only cleared his throat but didn't answer or looked up to meet his friend's eyes.
'Oh.' Molly looked from one to the other with a frown and a mouth shaping a small 'o'. 'John didn't know about the whole plan, did he?' Molly stood there stunned.
'Well, the less he knew about it...'
'But you told us that Molly's acting skills were horrible and that was why you had to keep information from her.' John frowned at his best friend. When he heard the pathologist groaning he added, 'Sorry, Molly.'
'No, John I said she was horrible in acting as we all knew well.' He looked expectantly at his friend.
'Don't do that face!'
'What face?' Sherlock frowned in confusion.
'Sherlock!' John hissed.
'Well, what would you tell about someone's acting skills who helps me to fake my death and keeps it secret for two years in front of everyone while she is still working with Scotland Yard, attending my funeral, and frequently visiting Mrs Hudson and you?'
'Khm,' John cleared his throat embarrassed. 'Well she must be pretty good in pretending.'
'Exactly.' Sherlock smiled tightly.
'Then why did you tell me nothing?'
'We were bugged.'
'But later you could just let me know sometimes...somehow.'
'Well, yes, but not everybody's acting skills are that sophisticated.' Sherlock rolled his eyes impatiently.
'What?' John raised one eyebrow.
'You are really horrible at it John. Tell him Mary!' Sherlock exclaimed having enough of guarded chatting.
John furrowed and looked at his wife questioningly.
'Oh God!' Mary growled.' Leave me out of this, Sherlock!' came Mary's quick answer.
'Oh, great, really great,' John huffed rolling his eyes pouting.
Then Molly came forward hoping to give the conversation another direction. 'I've just heard how you've been wounded, John. I just want to say thank you, really.' Molly smiled gently at the doctor placing her hand onto his shoulder.
'Well, Molly, to be honest I owed that git with this. He had saved the woman I love. It was obvious that I have to do the same when the time comes.' John excused himself and his face warmed and relaxed as he spoke. His hand searched for his wife's and gripped it tightly while he was curiously searching his best friends face.
'One thing, Molly. How the bloody hell can you shoot like that. And please don't tell me that you were an assassin too in your previous life.'
Molly shook her head with a smile. 'No, but I was locked together with a quite skilled government agent for weeks.' She chuckled.
Meanwhile Sherlock was studying the very interesting fire escape plan hung on the inner side of the door, pretending to be completely lost in it. When he felt all the eyes on himself he cleared his throat and turned with narrowed eyes.
'Well...khm...maybe we should leave, Molly, don't you think? John obviously needs to rest.' Sherlock looked at Molly expectantly.
John couldn't help but smile. He knew that the whole situation with Molly made his friend embarrassed and uneasy with no end but seeing it was so funny and heart warming at the same time.
'Uhm... yes...of course.' Molly waved awkwardly as she stepped towards the door.
Sherlock would leave without any further word but John's question stopped him.
'Just one more question. How the hell could you involve Mary without me knowing about it?'
'Sherlock turned slightly.' Mycroft got in touch with her the last moment. We knew that if she knew about her part sooner she wouldn't risk not telling you.' Sherlock shrugged. 'Mary is clever enough not to lie to you again.' With this he exited in his heels with Molly.
As they stepped outside the hospital a black car pulled down on the street in front of them. Sherlock rolled his eyes as the window revealed his brother's stoic face.
'You are still not free to go, brother mine.' Mycroft opened the door to let both of them climb in.
They sat in silence for minutes. Molly couldn't remember if she had ever felt more uncomfortable in her life.
'I have a job offer for you,' Mycroft started but his little brother didn't let him continue.
'I accept.'
Mycroft's eyebrows run up to the top of his forehead.
'Well then, it's settled.' He shifted in his seat. Mycroft turned towards Molly and looked at her like he had never seen her and nodded with a long blink.
After a few minutes of staring out the windows Molly got the courage and asked, 'How's Anthea and the baby?'
'She's...they are fine. She needs to rest.' Mycroft's answer was hesitant but his expression became warmer after a few blink. Molly almost couldn't suppress her smile. It seemed after all both Holmes boys had heart despite the common presumption.
When the cab stopped in front of a small inn and Molly started to climb out of it Mycroft suddenly stopped her by touching her arm. 'Thank you Molly. I highly appreciate what you did.'
'Oh...it was my pleasure, I mean I wanted to help,' she nodded smiling and closed the door.
As they were watching the black car pulling away Sherlock huffed. 'Old softie.'
Molly chuckled. 'Well, it runs in the family.'
'What do you mean?' Sherlock frowned, turning towards her but Molly just smiled at him openly with shining eyes. 'Hm.' Sherlock hummed with a nod in recognition and turned towards the inn's entrance without further discussion.
As Sherlock had suspected a room was reserved under his name. As they stepped into the already semi dark room Molly was surprised to feel Sherlock's arms around her waist. It was obvious that he was not person of showing his affections in public, she wasn't that kind either, but there had been moments during the last day when he behaved so detached she didn't have the courage to indicate anything intimate. As she turned to face him and wrapped her arms around his neck she felt his embrace tighten.
'Molly, Molly, Molly,' he murmured as he breathed into her hair. His fatigue was so obvious now from the way he clung to her.
Molly sighed contently and lifted her face touch her lips lightly to his.
When their kiss ended they stood there hanging onto each other for a while without a world. The weight of the last weeks had been heavier than they had anticipated and was just starting to lift off them.
When they parted it was already semi dark. Only the opposite house's lamps gave some dim light to the room. Molly silently shrugged off her coat, then reached up to Sherlock's scarf and gently removed it. She peeled off his coat, gingerly hanging it up next to hers. Sherlock was intently watching her every move and let her lead him into the room. He sat down willingly onto the bed as she gently pushed him down.
His heartbeat fastened as she started to unbutton than pushed aside his suit jacket.
As Molly cupped his face gently, stroking his cheek with her thumbs. Sherlock drew her between his spread knees and lifted his gaze to meet hers. The understanding and love he found there lavished to him. His arms pulled her as close as it was possible by her hips. Molly smiled down at him with the warmest smile he had ever received. Sherlock run his hands higher on her back and leaned back on the bed, pulling Molly with him gently. Her weight of her body pushing to his seemed to be the only power what keeps his mind in one piece.
They both kicked off their shoes as their lips met. Their hands were searching for the best grip on the other's clothes, hair and body.
Sherlock was so lost in the dizzying sensations that he was quite surprised to feel Molly pushing herself up, with her palms resting on his chest. In the dark he only saw the silhouette of her head adumbrated by the thin unruly hairs escaped from the tight bun and the dim contours of her features in the back-light. Her breathing was quick, he felt the warmth of her body radiating irrespectively of the distance.
Sherlock swallowed hard as he reached up to touch the small glory around Molly's head with so gingerly she barely felt the movement.
His breath was just as quick as hers; he felt his heart pounding under her palm. His cheeks were fleshed and his body's every part was utterly aware of her close proximity. A question was lingering on his slightly opened lips but the fear of hearing something he didn't want to hear suppressed his voice. He was trying to search her face but the darkness hid her.
'What was your brother's offer?' Molly asked barely audible, with a husky voice.
'Hmm...'Sherlock groaned. 'He hired me as an MI6 agent retroactively. From the time the whole Moriarty issue had begun. So in the files killing Magnussen looks like I was obeying an order.' He slightly turned his head but still held his eyes on Molly examining her with his every sense.
Molly looked at him questioningly. With a wince he continued. 'I overheard him on the phone earlier. But I wasn't sure if he would actually let me walk.' After her long silence he continued, 'The whole thing is at least morally questionable.'
'Yes, but you did accept it.'
'Yes, I did.' He cleared his throat. 'I did.' Sherlock nodded.
'Why?' Molly murmured run her one hand on his chest towards his bare neck.
'You know exactly why.'
Molly didn't answer just leaned forward to kiss him strongly leaving behind all her worries and anxiety in the act, smiling happily against his lips.
'You will owe your brother quite much.' Molly murmured between two kisses.
Sherlock growled. 'Don't even tell me, I'll be practically his slave.' He rolled his eyes but smiled as he wrapped his arms around Molly and rolled them over as he growled hungrily and kissed her enthusiastically. 'But it will worth it.'
That night there was no wall of uncertainty or bitterness of saying good bye between them. There were the lightness of belonging together and the empty pages of the future.