Here's a little story I started months ago and decided to pull out and polish off today. Big thanks to MizJoley for betaing it for me. She a wonder!

I own nothing. Enjoy ~Lil~

She couldn't help it. She knew it was ridiculous and petty, but watching the way Sherlock interacted with Mary Watson sometimes drove Molly a little nuts. The hugs, the kisses… the winks. He actually touched her! Currently she was sat at Mrs. Hudson's kitchen table having her weekly tea with the older woman as Sherlock and the Watsons came sweeping in. The detective had plundered Martha's fridge while Mary scolded him about it. Sherlock rolled his eyes then kissed Mary's forehead. That's when Molly excused herself.

"But you've only been here a few minutes, dear," Martha said.

"Ah, I know. It's just…" She bit her lip as she looked around the room. "Toby's been sick," she lied. Damnit, lying in a room with Sherlock Holmes and Mary Watson… that's a great idea. "I'll see you all later." Then she rushed out.

She should have known it was about to happen. Martha had been watching Gwyn while the trio was off on some adventure. Molly wasn't exactly jealous of Mary. She liked her, a lot actually. But it had taken her years and so much humiliation and tears to form some kind of closeness with Sherlock. All Mary had had to do was marry his best friend.

Suddenly Molly heard her name and she turned around to find John, of all people, jogging toward her.

"John…"

"What was that? Why'd you leave?" he asked as he caught his breath.

"Toby's…"

"Fine and you know it," he interrupted. "Come on, Molly. It's a pretty bad lie if I can sniff it out."

She looked at the passersby and tried to come up with an answer that didn't sound petty and childish, but she found nothing. "I don't know, John. I just felt like leaving."

"It's hard to share him, isn't it?" he said with a knowing smile. "They hit it off immediately. They're so much alike. I suppose that's why they're two of my favourite people."

Molly stared at him, surprised at his having sussed out the actual cause of her abrupt departure. "I'm glad he has friends now," she said, hating how defensive it sounded.

"But it used to be just you… and Greg, I suppose."

"Barely me," she said looking down at the pavement.

"He does care for you Molly."

"I know that. But it was so much work, ya know." She looked up and she could see that John understood. "So much," she added quietly. " And he still doesn't touch me… not like..."

John smiled. "You really don't know why, do you?"

"What do you mean?"

"Mary's safe. Mary's… like his sister. You're a bit dangerous, I think."

Molly wasn't following and was about to ask him what he meant when he continued. "I think he has to keep his distance from you, Molly." He paused and eyed her intently. "Because he's afraid."

Molly laughed. "Of what? What could he possibly be afraid of?"

"Yes, John. That's a good question. What is it that has me so scared?" Molly suddenly heard the deep baritone of Sherlock Holmes from behind John. She'd been too distracted by her conversation with the doctor to notice the object of their conversation walking towards them.

John, of course, turned around. "Sherlock, I had this well in…"

"Answer the question, John," Sherlock growled.

"I was saying… It's just that Molly here was…" John stammered, then looked at her and must have seen the fear in her eyes (she certainly felt a bit terrified). He turned back to his friend. "Nothing," he said with a sigh. "Of course you're afraid of nothing."

"Mary's ready to leave and Gwendolyn is getting fussy," Sherlock said.

John nodded then walked up to Molly. "It's gonna be okay," he whispered then kissed her cheek as he hugged her tightly.

In the middle of their embrace she heard, "John, Mary's waiting," coming from the disgruntled detective.

"Right. See you later, Molls," the doctor said before giving his best friend a glare.

Once he was gone, Sherlock walked closer to her. "Why'd you leave? It's tea day."

"Tea day?"

"Yes, the day you and Mrs. Hudson enjoy tea and gossip," he explained.

"I just felt like leaving," she answered, not even attempting to lie again, knowing there was no point.

"I think I know what's going on, Molly," he said, giving her his 'I'm deducing you' look.

"I'm sure you do, Sherlock. You… always do. But if you could just keep your dedu…"

"You'll have a baby of your own someday. I'm sure of it." He smiled, a rare soft smile.

Molly sighed. He always gets this bit wrong, she thought. "Yeah, of course. Maybe."

There was an awkward pause, then Sherlock said, "I'm not afraid, you know, of touching you."

"Oh."

"Well, that is... afraid isn't the right word. It's just different with you, Molly."

She nodded. Of course it was different, though why was anyone's guess.

"I've never hurt Mary, you see. Never told her that her hair looks nice a certain way so that I could look at a dead man's feet. I've never insulted her at a Christmas party. I saved Mary from Magnussen's threats, but you? I let you date James Moriarty. And instead of deducing him for what he was, I commented about your weight. It's easier with Mary. You and I- our history..."

His eyes had never seemed more blue than they did at that moment. "We've moved past all that, Sherlock. I just want us to be friends, proper friends."

"Really?" he said hopefully.

Molly smiled. "Of course."

"Proper friends…" he repeated as he stepped closer. "And proper friends… touch?"

"Yeah, course. I mean we have before, ya know."

"That's right, we have." He gave her a sad smile. "But last time, if I remember correctly, you were engaged." He glanced down at her hands.

"Why should that make a difference?"

"Perhaps there's something to the notion of safety, Molly." Taking her left hand in his he studied it for a moment. "I do want you to be happy. I meant that."

"I am happy, Sherlock. Why would you think…"

Never looking up, never taking his eyes off her hand he said, "Sometimes we deny ourselves something greatly desired because it's not what we deserve." His thumb gently ghosted across her pulse point. "Because we squandered it long ago."

"I don't understand," she whispered, overwhelmed with his proximity and touch.

He finally tore his eyes away from their joined hands. "I don't touch you, Molly because I'm afraid if I do… I simply won't be able to stop." He looked so sad, regretful.

"I wouldn't mind that."

Biting his lip to disguise an obvious smile, he looked away, though he kept her hand in his. "Nor would I. But…"

"No, please. No buts. Just…" She took a step closer and placed her right hand on his chest, over his heart. "You've squandered nothing, Sherlock. I forgave you a long time ago for the things you said, the things you did. But I will find it much harder to forgive you for withholding yourself from me because of some misguided sense of obligation. If you're not interested in anything beyond friendship with me, I can live with that. I can. I care for you and will continue to care for you no matter what. But if there's more here…" She clutched a little tighter to his suit jacket. "...then don't you think we owe it to each other to pursue it? See if…"

"Oh, for God's sake!" he exclaimed as hands closed around her head and with no further warning warm lips captured hers. He kissed her slowly and so deeply that she felt it from her tingling cheeks to the tips of her toes. It went on and on, then he released her with a low growl, causing her to stumble. Sherlock grabbed her arm and to steady her. "You okay?"

"Jesus, Sherlock!"

"What? Was that not good?"

"A little warning…"

"Fine, next time I'll say, 'I'm going to kiss you now, Molly.' Is that acceptable?" he said as he took her hand and started walking back toward the flat.

"Next time?"

He cut her a sinful grin. "It's your fault. I told you I wouldn't want to stop once I got started."

Thanks for reading! Love a comment! ~Lil~

(Hey, anyone wondering about the next chapter of Immaculate Protection, I'm working on it now! Hugs)