Heyyloo everyone :D Welcome back to my account, and I hope you guys will read and review :) My Beyblade fanfic is on a hiatus at the mo, but I will be returning to it soon! For all you new readers, my core story is Angels And Bladers. Plz do read, fave and follow or at least leave a review! My other story is Till Death Do Us Apart, a RyuKaru one-shot for the ship fans :P For now, I hope y'all enjoy this Sherlolly one-shot. This is 3x3, a retake of how I would have liked it to play out, but well... Ugh... I wish I owned this show X( R&R peeps, or favourite or follow :D

Disclaimer: I don't own the characters, or the basic plot at all [Unfortunately :'(] I only own my story line changes.

"Is he clean?" John Watson asked sharply, trying to swallow his anger. Sherlock Holmes was known for his infamous stunts to work cases, but this… This made John's blood boil with fury, like lava fresh from a volcano. He had no right, no right whatsoever to abuse drugs.

Molly Hooper smiled tightly, snapping her gloves off.

"Clean?" She wondered aloud and strode over to the tall, pale man with high cheekbones and dark curls. She faced him for a second, expression tight, then slapped him hard across the face. Sherlock's head snapped to the side, curls bouncing as he froze in shock. Before he could recollect his wits, she slapped him again.

And backhanded him for a good measure.

John, Mary and Bill, the drug dealer all stared in a mixture of surprise and shock as Molly glared daggers at the detective.

"How dare you throw away the beautiful gifts you were born with?" she exclaimed. "And how dare you betray the love of your friends? Say you're sorry."

Sherlock groaned slightly and held his throbbing face. "Sorry your engagement's over – though I'm fairly grateful for the lack of a ring."

Molly's spine stiffened and John knew Sherlock had touched a nerve.

"Stop it. Just stop it." she told him in a low, angry voice and John saw best to step in before…

"If you were anywhere near this kind of thing again, you could have called, you could have talked to me." he said angrily, still quenching the worst of his wrath. He was naturally appalled at Sherlock's attitude towards Molly, even after all she'd done for him. But then you couldn't expect much from Sherlock Holmes.

Sherlock scoffed. "Please do relax. This is all for a case."

Mary sighed inwardly, shaking her head in disappointment. John's spirit lightened a little; perhaps Sherlock would finally find shame in his rash actions, but then he rolled his eyes. Not gonna happen. His head snapped back at the curly haired individual.

"A ca... What kind of case would need you doing this?"

"I might as well ask you why you've started cycling to work." Sherlock fired back in usual habit.

John shook his head. "No. We're not playing this game." he said firmly, determined not to let the detective draw him into his trap. He promptly turned his back and walked away.

"Quite recently I'd say," he continued, oblivious to his best friend's ignorance. "You're very determined about-" John turned back just in time to see Molly grab his ear, cutting him off.

"You and I are going to talk." she told him in a firm voice and dragged him out of the room. He yelped as he went along and John couldn't help but be reminded of a five year-old brat who had been incredibly horrid.

Molly Hooper had done a lot for Sherlock Holmes for as long as she had known him. She had cut and sewed up the bodies he brought, she had run multiple tests for him and had even helped him with his outrageous scheme that led to the Riechenbach Fall. Many a tear had fallen, many from her own eyes. She had hated seeing John Watson look so lost, so hurt and defiant. He never really believed the man was dead; months had passed that way.

One more miracle, Sherlock, for me. Don't be... dead. Would you do that, just for me? Just stop it, stop this…

And now that he got his wish, that Sherlock had pulled off that miracle to make his friend happy, he had to go and destroy it with his incredibly selfish acts.

"If this is about me making fun of your engagement, then no, I will not apologize." he snapped irritably, bringing the brunette out of her reverie.

"You had no right to poke fun at me like that Sherlock!" Molly snapped. She took a deep breath.

"But no this is not about my relationship with Tom. This is about your relationship with John."

Sherlock rolled his eyes. "For God's sake woman! He's a married man."

"That's not what I mean." she cried, outraged at his casual behaviour. The snarky expression fell from his face.

"You are his best friend Sherlock. His only friend, besides Mary. You have to show him a little respect." she explained as calmly as she could.

"Look, I know what it feels like to be without friends, without someone to talk to and joke with; to share adventures with. I know what John felt like before he found you. I- I thought I found someone with Tom, but I was apparently wrong about that…" her voice trailed off slightly as her eyes burned.

Sherlock's lips were partially parted as if he wanted to say something but couldn't find the words. Her mind turned back to the time he had kissed her. It was more of a peck, not even on the lips, but she could only imagine what it would feel like.

"All I'm saying, Sherlock, is that he is someone in your life who counts. You may deny it but he does, I can tell.

"You have to cherish those people because you will never find them again. Once they're gone, they're gone forever and you'll never get them-"

"What makes you think he counts?" Sherlock cut her off rudely. He stared at her intensely with those blue orbs that revealed little and yet so much. They were beautiful, she thought through a slight haze. But now they made her trip over her words.

"Well- because- I've, I've seen it! You would do anything for him, anything at all. Giving that sort of loyalty to someone means something." He chuckled once.

"He is just a friend." Molly bristled.

"No Sherlock he is not! I'm just a friend. Not him. He has done so much for you and he deserves that sense of loyalty and friendship from you."

The male looked sombre now, but something glimmered in his eyes.

"You think you're just a friend, do you?" he asked quietly, causing Molly to blush.

"Well yes," she replied, a little angry at her small role in his life. "I'm just the pathologist who exhumes your bodies and lets you use her lab."

"I told you that you count, Molly. I meant it." he said in a strained voice, and her chest began to ache suddenly, as if her heart was caving in on itself.

"Words." she said bitterly. "Words and vows are exchanged all the time, Sherlock. But I've learnt that people don't always mean what they say. Look where it got me and Tom. Actions mean more than words, but most importantly is how heartfelt it is. I mean, I had sex with Tom but I guess it didn't mean anything. I helped you with your stupid 'I-will-save-the-world!' plan and look what I got in return; two years away from you!" She suddenly realized how much she had said and clamped her mouth shut with both hands. Sherlock looked extremely stunned now, eyes wide open.

"I- uh…" he stammered out the words, then chuckled. "Molly Hooper, you are the first ever woman to put me at a loss of words." the brunette blushed wildly at these words, emotions swirling up in her chest, chanting in her head.

Kiss me Sherlock, kiss me Sherlock, kiss me Sherlock…

"Well, good for me." she snapped as sharply as she could, watching the corners of his beautiful smile turn down. She loved that smile, the way his cheekbones danced and how his eyes lit up with a bright light.

She inhaled deeply and let it out slowly, hoping it would steady the shaky tone in her voice.

"Just, please, treat John and Mary properly." she said with a tone of finality and turned to push the door open but stopped when a hand touched her elbow.

"Molly… please…" he pleaded softly and she turned to face him, trying to hold back hot tears. He looked… ashamed. That was the only word her mind could single out upon seeing his face. Never in all the years she had known him would she have thought that such an expression would cross his face. Sherlock cleared his throat.

"I- didn't think my disappearance would affect you so much," he began but immediately stopped when she burst into tears. "What? What did I say?"

"You bastard! You beautiful bastard!" she cried as she pummelled his chest with her fist. Her tears came suddenly and painfully. She had been holding them in for months now, ever since he had returned but now there was no stopping them. "I hated you when you left, Sherlock! I. Hated. You!" she enunciated each word with a punch.

"I waited and silently prayed that you would come back to me but that never happened. I found a sliver of you in Tom, and I was ready to live with that miniscule part for the rest of my life just to be near you. And now, you're back and Tom's gone and I'm back in square one." She grabbed the front of the hoodie and shook him as hard as she could.

"I love you, Sherlock Holmes. I've loved you for years now and my heart shattered when you left. I loved you when you came to me for help and then vanished without a trace. And I still do without a doubt. And nothing is going to change that!" she yelled at the top of her lungs.

He smelled of smoke, and dirty laundry with that tinge of his own scent; the heavenly musky smell. She staggered back into the door but Sherlock grabbed her shoulders and pulled her close to his thin, lean frame, slipping his hands up to her face. She tilted her face back to look into his blue eyes, the colour sending her into a trance.

He suddenly crashed his mouth against hers, causing her to swoon just a little. His lips were all over hers, over her cheeks and jawline and then back on her lips, hands snaking under her lab coat and up her back. He whispered in between every kiss, every touch, the same thing over and over again. I'm sorry… I'm sorry… and she brought her hands up to his face, exploring the planes of his angular face, the high cheekbones, the slant of his chin. He kissed her ferociously, pulling her closer until they were one single unit, on hand in her hair, the other around her waist, lips parting hers with savage hunger. And Molly kissed him back just as wildly. knowing that it would never be enough, not for her ever...

"Beg your pardon," a gruff voice spoke up suddenly, causing Molly to jump out of her skin and rather reluctantly pull away from Sherlock. John stood in front of the two, arms crossed over his chest looking slightly bewildered at the sudden turn of events. "But what exactly is going on here?"

Molly felt the heat rise to her face and glanced at the man she had been kissing not seconds ago. Sherlock looked as calm and unruffled as ever, straightening his hoodie and running his hands through his hair, ruffling them up. Molly found that gesture extremely sexy.

"Oh, this?" he asked waving a hand at Molly. "I was simply testing a theory."

Her blood ran cold. Liquid nitrogen in her veins.

"John!" Mary's worried voice floated through the door and he immediately slipped back in, but not before sarcastically commenting, "Well finish your experiment and get back in here."

Sherlock faced her with a smile. "That could have been worse." he said cheerfully. She couldn't help it.

She slapped him.

He exhaled shakily and eyed her clenched fist disdainfully. "About that comment," he started, but she held up a hand, tears burning the back of her throat.

"Don't." she croaked. "You're just as bad as the rest of them."

Instead of replying, Sherlock took her upheld hand and kissed each finger, eyes never moving from hers. His touch sent shivers up her spine and he pulled her closer. His hands slid down her sides and came to a rest on her waist.

"Can I see you tonight, nine thirty?" he asked quietly, as if scared she would deny it. She laughed mirthlessly.

"Why? Not done testing your theory?" His expression grew pained and he wrapped her in a tight embrace, burying his face in her neck.

"I love you too, Molly Hooper." he whispered surprising her greatly. "And I truly am sorry for hurting you so much." His voice was tender, vulnerable as the day he had come seeking her help with Moriarty.

And in that moment, she knew he meant it. She knew she was loved, and that she loved the most amazing an on the planet.

"I can think about tonight." she whispered back, running a hand through his messy curls. She felt the warmth of his lips as they moved from her shoulder to her neck, to her jaw.

"Nine thirty," he said softly with a slight grin as he moved away to let her cross to the door. She smiled devilishly as he traced his fingers along the inside of her arm.

"Oh, and Molly," she looked up to the handsome individual's face. "You do count, more than others."

So? Good? Average? Bad? This is my first Sherlolly one-shot and I absolutely ship them! :D I'm ready to take any criticism as long as there's no swearing etc. involved, thank you very much :3 R&R pretty please with whipped cream and a cherry on top? Thanks guys and atleast fave or follow! Thank you guyzz!

-M