Sherlock pulled the spare key out of his pocket, balancing the take-away chinese in one hand. He fiddled with the lock for a second and then pushed the door open with his foot. He entered the flat grinning like fool and waltzed into the kitchen, depositing the food onto the counter. It was then that it hit him. It was far too quiet. And it smelled different. Furrowing his brow, he sniffed the air.

Hmmm... disinfectant. Lemon smell. Clean kitchen. Clean everything. Very very clean. Immaculate. Someone, no Molly, scrubbed this place within an inch of its life. Why? Molly cleans when she is upset. This flat hasn't been this clean since after we faked my death.

He quickly pushed that unwelcome memory away.

He glanced around, looking for some sign of the tiny woman. Heading to the bedroom, he opened the door and stuck his head inside.

Uh oh.

The bedroom exactly as it was when he left the previous morning. It took him merely seconds to deduce what had happened and he went tearing through the flat, searching for Molly. He found her sprawled out on the floor of the bathroom with a toothbrush in her hand and a bucket of soapy water next to her head. He glanced over her, noticing how her knees and fingernails were scabbed with dried blood. He mentally berated himself for his carelessness. He shouldn't have taken the case, no he should have taken it but should have made sure that she knew where he was. Obviously, she hadn't found the note he left on top of the covers on his side of the bed. Reviewing the room in his mind, he realized that she had thrown the duvet back and covered the note, then hadn't gone back in the room since.

Sherlock leaned down and scooped Molly up in his arms and started to carry her to the bedroom. She sleepily wrapped her arms around his neck and leaned on his chest, breathing deeply. He lay her down onto the bed, curling up next to her, and wrapped his arms around her, holding her as she slept. His stomach growled and he remembered the food in the kitchen but made no move to get up. Sherlock was going to be there the next time Molly Hooper awoke.

Molly blinked sleepily up at the ceiling. She slowly became aware of a warm weight pressing against her side. She turned her head and saw a sleeping Sherlock laying next to her. Molly Hooper was not a violent girl. But she certainly felt murderous right now.

"What the HELL are you doing here?!"

Sherlock jumped awake, blinking owlishly and tightened his grip on her waist.

"Molly? What...?"

"You left me! Without a word! Do you have any idea what I went through? What do you have to say for yourself?!"

Molly crossed her arms, her lips pressed into a hard line, and waited for a reply.

Sherlock blinked again, still half asleep and reached onto the night table, feeling around until his fingers closed on a scrap of folded paper that he silently handed to her.

Molly, got a case. be back when it is done. by the way, need fingers for experiment. -sherlock

She read it several times, not saying a word. Finally, she looked up, meeting his eyes. His expression was a mixture of sleepiness and trepidation. She refolded the note and handed it back to him.

"Where was it?"

"On top of the covers on my side of the bed. When you woke up, you threw the duvet back and covered it up."

She merely nodded, not replying.

"Molly, why did you think I left you?"

Long pause.

"Well Sherlock, that night was very out of character for you. I mean, different from the way I am used to you treating me. I just assumed you were using me and once you got what you wanted you were gone."

Sherlock sighed and pulled Molly into his arms.

"Molly. Do you really think that badly of me?"

It didn't take a consulting detective to deduce that he was very hurt by her lack of faith in him.

"No! I don't think badly of you."

He gave her a perplexed glance.

"I think that way of myself. That I'm not enough for you. That I'm not interesting enough or pretty enough or intelligent enough to hold your attention."

Molly looked down at her hands with a defeated expression. His hand moved to her chin and pulled her up to meet his gaze.

"Molly, I'm in love with you. You are the sweetest, most selfless woman I have ever met. You are beautiful and brilliant. I don't deserve you at all."

He pressed a gentle kiss to her lips.

"Let me show you how much I love you Molly. Please."

She hesitated a moment, searching his face for any sign of a lie but found only open honesty and a bit of vulnerability in his eyes. She nodded her assent and he kissed her again, this time more passionately, his tongue parting her lips and slipping into her mouth. She returned the kiss with equal enthusiasm, relishing the feel of his arms around her.

He pulled back and stared into her eyes.

"Molly, I'll never give you a cause to doubt me again."

With that, he drew her in again, kissing first her lips, then working his way down her jawline to her throat. He kissed the mark he left previously and nipped it lightly. Molly gasped at the feel of his teeth on her neck and moved into his lap, straddling his hips and pressing her warm center down onto his hardening cock. Sherlock groaned and pulled her shirt and bra strap to the side, kissing her shoulder and bucking up into her gently.

Suddenly, he rolled over, covering her body with his and worked her shirt over her head. He moved down her body and latched onto a nipple through the fabric of her bra. Molly's hands threaded through his curls and she arched her back up with a moan, pushing her breast further into his mouth. He worked his jaw, sucking and licking until both nipples were taunt and erect. He unclipped her bra and she pulled it off. Sherlock wanted to take his time but the need was rising. He slipped a hand into her trousers and rubbed her through her knickers. He could feel how wet she already was and groaned in appreciation. He tapped her lightly on the hip and she lifted up to allow him to pull off her trousers and knickers in one go. Sherlock grabbed a condom and then stripped as fast as he could, anxious to be inside her. He pulled on the condom and hovered over her. Molly wrapped her small hand around his length and positioned him at her wet entrance. Slowly, gently, he pushed into her.

This time was very different from the first. Sherlock made love to Molly, thrusting at a steady pace and kissing every inch of her body that he could reach. They held each other close and whispered words of encouragement and love. After a while, Sherlock sped up, feeling Molly begin to tighten around him. She came with a low cry of his name and he followed after just a few more thrusts. He rolled off of her and disposed of the condom then came back to hold her, stroking her cheek.

"Molly, you are the only woman I have ever loved. And I'm absolutely positive that I won't ever stop loving you."

She smiled softly at him and kissed him gently on the lips.

"You know I've been in love with you for years. That isn't going to change."

He smiled and laid his head down on her thinking that answering her text was the best idea he ever had.