So I had two ideas for One-Shots in my head and now I'm posting both of them. That way I don't have to chose.

I don't own Sherlock (BBC).

-1st-

She can't believe it. Cannot understand how this could possibly have happend but still here she is. In Sherlock's bed.

…

The weeks after the Moriarty Video are chaotic.

Molly cleans up the broken cup from the floor. She has dropped it from shock at seeing her ex-… her ex-something. Then she breathes in deeply to calm her racing heart and it's only then that she feels ready to continue her work. She refuses to let the fear rule her life, she would end her usual shift and take the tube home, there she would treat herself to a hot steamy bath before retiring to bed and snuggling with her cat Toby.

And if she buys herself an alarm system on the way home or a new pepper spray there was no one to judge her. She wonders if Sherlock has seen the video already. She hadn't heard a word from him in more than two months.

She can't pretend that it doesn't hurt, but maybe it was for the best. No one even thought about calling her the night Sherlock got shot. She only heard about it after he was out of danger and apparently no one thought it necessary to inform her of Sherlock's romantic relationship – and the fact that he is engaged. Or rather was engaged if the gossip rags are to be trusted.

She doesn't count… not to Sherlock and apparently everyone he was indeed close to seems to be aware of that.

It isn't even that she's still hoping and holding out for Sherlock to fall in love with her. She has lost that hope long ago (only it was so much easier when she was still able to tell herself it was because of his unclear – but certainly not heterosexual – sexual orientation). It is just that she had thought they were something akin to friends, but apparently they was only her misguided thinking.

Despite her macabre job and her nervous demeanour (only when Sherlock was involved) Molly has a small but close circle of friends. Even Tom and she are still on friendly terms.

But Sherlock and Molly? In his book they weren't friends, and it is alright that way (she just wished he had informed her). At least now she knows all he sees her as is a tool, a way into the morgue and to get a hand on body parts – and they were never hers, mind you.

Molly has enough. She's done with Sherlock Holmes.

There's a knock on the door and Molly looks up in confusion, barely anyone bothers to knock.

"Come in."

"Hello Molly! I'm not disturbing you am I?"

"Of course not, Mike" Molly's smiles friendly. "What can I do for you?"

"I just wanted to check and see how you're holding up. The video was a real shock, huh?"

Touched Molly's eyes softened as she looked at him, "Thanks Mike. It was quite a shocker but everything is fine."

Mike nodded thoughtfully. "How is your research going by the way? I've heard you hit a wall."

Molly sighs, "That's a bit much, but we've had difficulties extricating…" she browses through her papers to find her research papers and for the next half hour Mike and her discuss new approaches for the problem.

The door to the lab slams open and the two look up surprised.

"Sherlock!" Mike blinks. "Well, I haven't seen you around in forever. What brings you to Bart's?"

Next to him Molly tenses at seeing Sherlock. Two months without a sign of life from him and there he is, strolling into HER lab like he owns the place. And he probably already has some ludicrous demand on his tongue.

"Mike" he seems surprised "Molly" he nods at the two of them. "Molly, I… How are you?"

Both her eyebrows shoot up and then she rubs her eyes tiredly "Sherlock just say what you want."

"I…" he seems very much taken aback. "Haven't you seen the video?" Sherlock is truly confused at her reaction; he had deduced that Molly had seen the video.

"Yes, I've seen the video. But what do you want?"

"I…" his eyes blink rapidly. He had expected to meet an anxious Molly, maybe even a fearful one. And – even though he would never admit it - he had also expected her to greet him as a hero with billowing coat and not as some kind of annoyance.

Sherlock clears his throat "Well Molly, obviously we are faced with a situation caused by an unknown source. And I do believe it for the best that you stay with me and Baker Street until I solved this…"

Molly bursts out laughing and Mike shifts from one foot to another nervously. He'd like to leave the room only Sherlock is blocking the door.

"Yeah… Sherlock no I don't think this will happen. Why ever would I move in with you?"

Sherlock raises both eyebrows and shot her this look – this one look Molly hates – the one that tells her exactly what Sherlock thinks of her intellectual abilities.

He sighs deeply, "If you force me to state the obvious I shall do so. Someone has broadcasted a video of Moriarty on all channels and while I'm sure it isn't 'Jim' – because he's dead, obviously – I currently don't know who has done it. And until I know more about this we'll have to assume that whoever did it is somehow connected to Moriarty and that everyone that I'm acquainted with may be in danger."

"Oh, I see. So then I suppose it'll be quite crowded in Baker Street already. You know with John and Mary, Janine of course and Greg and…"

"Greg?"

"Sherlock" Molly warns. "I will not move to Baker Street. Not even for a few days. Just solve this. I really don't see why this should concern me."

"Please Molly, do not make this more complicated and quit your stubbornness. Of course John and Mary won't be moving in. Mycroft is monitoring their flat and besides both of them know how to handle a gun. As does Lestrade, he is a Police Officer after all. Also he's being monitored by Mycroft."

"Why can't he monitor my flat as well?"

Frustrated Sherlock muses up his hair "Well, your case is different. You're not versed using a gun. And besides…"

"Besides what, Sherlock?" Molly sighs.

"You have played a vital part in bringing Moriarty down! I was only able to do it because of you! If this is one of his men they'll…"

"What about Janine?"

"Janine? Who is…? Oh! What about her?"

Molly's glare is less than amused, "You and her were engaged! You were in a romantic relationship with her. Don't you think she might be a possible target, obviously?" She mimics Sherlock.

Sherlock just stares. The thought never occurred to him, "Of course not. Don't be stupid. She's not important. She doesn't matter! You do!"

"Not imp…?" Molly stares at him in shock. How can he talk like that about the woman he was willing to marry? And then – suddenly – she understands. It was a case! Janine was a case – or at least somehow involved in one. Bloody bastard, she thinks and she is so unbelievable angry. How dare he play with a woman's feelings like that?

"No!"

"What do you mean?" Sherlock feels the burning headache coming.

"No, I will most certainly not be moving to 221b Baker Street" she states evenly.

"Well, now this is quite unfortunate, since your belongings – including that ludicrous and entirely too bothersome cat of yours – have been moved to Baker Street already," he takes a key out of his coat pocket and puts it on the table in front of him. "I'll be seeing you at Baker Street then. Oh, and the man outside the lab is your bodyguard so no reason to worry."

Molly stares after him being left speechless until the door slams shut and she is yanked from her stupor.

…

Molly gives in in the end. She doesn't know why she keeps doing so, but she doesn't have the nerve to fight anymore with Sherlock. So she moves in John's old room and tries her best to avoid Sherlock.

… Only it turns out that avoiding him doesn't work as good as Molly initially thought. If one considers that she is currently in his bed – naked. And by no means alone, no instead she is in Sherlock's bed – naked - with Mr. I-am-married-to-my-work himself.

Slowly and carefully Molly opens her eyes and she almost gets a heart-attack. Sherlock's laying sideways with his head propped up in one hand and he's watching her.

"Shit… Sherlock!" Molly grabs for her heart. She turns red when it occurs to her that he has been watching her sleep.

Then a thought occurs to her and her heart stops. What if this is some kind of experiment? It is possible with Sherlock. And the odd look Sherlock was giving her wasn't exactly reassuring her to have confidence.

He jumps up from the bed, "I… I need to… Yes! I need to leave!"

"What?" Molly sits up confused.

"I have to…" he searches for words, ruffles his curls and his hands are always moving nervously. He mumbles something about evidence and reference and before Molly is able to form a coherent sentence, he's out the door.

…

A week passes with not so much as a word or any other sign of life from Sherlock. Molly packed her things and left Baker Street with her guard in tow (a different one from the first, only hell knows where he's gone to). Toby and she are quite comfortable in their old place and Molly still doesn't know what made Sherlock flea, but it has to be what happened between them.

She tries to get over it – really and truly tries, but it is so much harder now, that she knows there could be something between them. It hurts deeply. And it isn't like she expected a proposal; but she never expected he'd go in exile.

By now the red has almost disappeared from her eyes. It is replaced with dark circles. Despite the sleep deprivation Molly manages to haul herself from bed. She's only been functioning on coffee for the past week.

The doorbell rings loudly and Molly cringes at the sound. It's five in the morning and really who would think about ringing the doorbell at that time of night? Sherlock, comes to mind, but considering the last week, Molly doesn't particularly entertains the , Sherlock doesn't use the doorbell. He had himself a key made years ago because "really breaking in all the time is such a hassle, Molly".

She answers the door without asking who is outside (guard-bloke is still outside). Then she freezes.

"You weren't at Baker Street," it is simply a statement but Molly is left speechless and she barely manages a nod.

"Well, we'll have to change that back again."

"Sherlock… what…?" She wants to ask what he's talking about, what he actually wants from her, where he's been and she wants to yell and curse him and she wants to get rid of him and never see him again. Only she doesn't have the opportunity to do any of the above.

Sherlock grabs her and crushes her to him. His hands are in her hair and he's snogging her senseless. Molly answers with equal passion to the intense kiss. Her body is smothered between the wall and his hard lean body and she forms the first coherent thought only after his lips leave hers to trail down her throat.

With all the might she can muster she pushes him off of her. "Sherlock! What the fuck? You can't go around shagging me and then disappear only to turn up a week later to – to- to just kiss me like that! What the bloody hell is wrong with you?"

Sherlock reluctantly allows her some space, "Ah, yes of course. I can see how this might be somewhat confusing for you, Molly. But I have reached the conclusion that I am in love with you."

Molly laughs hysterically (because this can't be happening for real), "And how precisely did you come to such a 'conclusion'?"

"I had intercourse with Irene Adler."

He just states it as if it was the most normal thing in the world but to Molly it feels like a punch in the face. It takes her a minute to connect the name to the famous Dominatrix Sherlock was infatuated with.

He's about to say something more, but Molly doesn't let him (she won't allow him to manipulate her).

"So let me get this straight," she hates how high her voice sounds and how it is cracking. "You sleep with me and then you disappear right after, in order to sleep with a world-renowned Dominatrix – of which I thought she was dead – only to come back to me to tell me you're in love with me?"

Sherlock nods but he seems to understand that something is gravely wrong, "Yes, however Molly, I'm afraid you do not comprehend…"

"Get out!" her voice is dangerously low.

"Molly?" She might be hearing things, but she could almost swear she hears a pleading note in his voice.

"Get out!" her voice gets louder. "Get out, get out, get out!" She's yelling by now and keeps pushing him out the door. "I never want to see you again, Sherlock Holmes!"

The door slams shut.

…

"Alright… explain to me again what exactly the problem is."

Molly rolls her eyes. The 'problem' is obvious and she really thinks her friend should be on her side with this this one.

"The problem should be fairly obvious!"

"Not for me it isn't. Now, don't get me wrong or anything, if you and he were dating then he would have cheated and in consequence you would have every right to be angry and leave his sorry arse. But unless I misunderstood you, the two of your were in no relationship."

"So what, Cassie? He slept with me and the very next day he goes off to shag Irene Adler, who is god knows where and he probably had to go to great lengths to even find her!"

"Exactly! That's the whole bloody point," Cassie yells into the mobile. "He sleeps with a very famous dominatrix who – let's be honest here – is probably really and I mean really very very good doing the horizontal tango. And then he comes back to you because he'd rather shag you than her. My point is that the compliment couldn't have been bigger!"

"That…" Molly is rendered speechless. She never thought of it that way. It was a crazy way of thinking, but… Then again Sherlock had some peculiar ideas.

"Look Molly," Cassie sighs. "All I'm saying is that maybe you should let him explain himself before condemning him."

Molly groans, "I hate you."

Cassie laughs at the other side of the line, "Love you too, Molls."

Molly hangs up and grabs for her jacket. She can hardly believe it, but she will indeed give him a chance to explain.

The bodyguard by her doorstep (he absolutely refuses to come inside or tell her his name) looks to her, "Baker Street?"

And Molly wonders what it says about her that she is that transparent for a stranger. He can probably see her hopeless infatuation with Sherlock Holmes miles away.

…

"Ah, Molly!"

Sherlock is less surprised by her visit, than Molly would have liked. He probably already figured she'd give in sooner or later, or her bodyguard had informed him or he had deduced it were her footsteps on the stairs.

She crosses her arms in front of her chest to prevent him from coming closer and to show her (inner) resistance. Sherlock has been about to step closer to her, but stops.

"Sherlock," she greets coldly.

The silence between them extends uncomfortably.

"Ah! Right! Tea? Would you like a cuppa?"

"No."

Sherlock sighs, "Molly…"

"Leave it be, Sherlock. Your manipulation and compliments all those stupid games you play, just don't! Just tell me." She takes a breath. "Why? Why did you do that? What did our… what does it mean to you – whatever it was that happened between us?"

"Would you like to sit?" Sherlock offers.

"I prefer to stay" so I can get out faster if I have to.

"Suit yourself," Sherlock flops down into his chair and folds his hands beneath his chin. "My experiences with sex – and opposing to common opinion, it does not make me uncomfortably to talk about the topic –…" he huffs indignantly, "… are very much limited to my university days. Which was also the sad peak of my drug use and addiction; therefore these two factors were always coupled with one another. Sex – unlike drugs- was… not very satisfying therefore I gave it up consequently. Until last week that was. Until you."

Molly shifts from one foot to another.

"It was… more than satisfactory I assure you."

Molly feels the blush heating up her face, but she daresay it was more than satisfactory by far!

"Now, of course I found myself confronted with a question – or rather a problem. There was no way to be sure whether the much more agreeable effect of intercourse stemmed from my abstinence from drugs or from the fact that it was with you. To eliminate the first possibility I had two experimental approaches to choose from. Either I had sex with another woman while sober or I had sex with you while under the influence of drugs. While the second approach was more attractive to me for multiple reasons, I did not believe the same could be said for you. Considering former – rather painful – experiences I cannot say that drugs are well received by you. Therefore I had no choice but to entertain the first approach."

Sherlock gets up and starts pacing the room, "Irene Adler was the obvious choice. She was attracted to me and her broad experiences on the sexual field were not accessible to me with any other woman. "

Molly tries to process it, she's really more confused than angry by now "Alright fine, but how on earth did you draw the conclusion that you're in love with me?"

"Ah, yes! That was really just a logical deduction from all the relevant factors. While sex with Irene Adler had - physically speaking - the desired effect, it was still somewhat… unsatisfactory, lacking even."

Molly can't quite supress the small smug smile that lifts her lips – take that sexy and famous and beautiful Dominatrix. Molly Hooper, mouse of the morgue is better in bed than you!

Sherlock however isn't finished yet, "Now, when one considers the fact that Irene Adler fulfils all physical features that dominate society's perception of beauty and that her list of costumers is rather impressive, one can only conclude that objectively speaking sex with Irene Adler should have been a superior experience to sex with you."

Now, that one stings a little, Molly's face drops. But she still has 'unsatisfactory and lacking' to comfort her.

"Therefore, clearly I was not objective. And then there were other factors that I had to consider. For instance how you keep hogging my mind palace! You're just wandering around there unrestrained and even if I put you back into your designated room you keep coming back. It's really driving me quite insane, so if you could kindly stop that."

Molly ignores the ridiculous request and concentrates on the important part "I have a room in your mind palace?" Molly supresses a grin and it becomes a lopsided smirk.

"Of course," Sherlock waves it off like it is the most normal thing in the world (it most certainly is not for Molly).

"But that's not all of it! I wanted to keep you in Baker Street despite there no longer being a reason!"

"Wait a second," Molly interrupts. "What do you mean there was no longer a reason?"

Annoyed he goes over the explanation, "I found out who was behind the Moriarty Video."

… "Sherlock? Who was it?"

"My brother. Obviously."

"Mycroft?"

"YES! For some stupid reason – probably sentiment – he broadcasted that video. But it isn't of relevance. The point is that I kept it to myself," he ruffles his hair in frustration.

Willing her to understand what he is saying. How come she always understands him, but not now? Not when it matters!

"I didn't want you to move out of Baker Street. I grew… accustomed to your presence, I found myself… liking it. You cooked and we experimented. Basically you beat Billy, the Skull by far."

So… she wins against a skull. Sherlock really needs to learn the art of complimenting a woman, but Molly finds herself flustered still.

"How long?"

"How long what?" Sherlock asks rapidly.

"How long have you known it was Mycroft?"

"Oh – about two weeks after you've moved in."

Molly's jaw falls down, "But… but what about my guard out there?"

"Frank from my homeless network," Sherlock explains dismissingly.

Molly has to laugh, she really cannot supress it. Her shoulders shake. Really this perfect ridiculous man was going to be the end of her.

He looks confused and maybe even a bit insulted. "You're laughing? Why are you laughing? Stop laughing, Molly," he commands.

She bits her lip to stop the pearly chain of giggles. "Can I presume that your 'experimental phase' is over, or would you like to support your finding with more evidence?"

Sherlock snorts "Don't be ridiculous. One bothersome sexual experience with another woman is surely sufficient enough."

He stands in front of her now, "You're going to forgive me."

"Deduced that then, haven't you?"

He smirks.

"But… only on one condiditon. Can I assume we are now in an exclusive relationship?"

His smirk broadens, "Absolutely. But don't tell John, I want to see how long it takes him to figure it out on his own."

That was number one.

Tell me what you think!