Molly had once considered her kitchen her sanctuary. Every little detail had been meticulously selected in the renovations she did shortly after purchasing her house. One of the perks of being head-hunted right out of medical school was the starting salary! The previous kitchen had been awful, but she saw the potential in it. Like almost everything (and everyone) in Molly's life.

She recalled the lovely afternoons spent with Meena, catching up over coffee - who needed to go to a coffee house when she already had her own impressive coffee machine, and could bake tea cakes better than most bakeries? They would both sit on the expansive counter tops, and gossip and bitch and just generally have a good girly afternoon. Sometimes though, the tea and cakes would eventually turn into wine and take-away, when it had been too long between catch-ups, or if one of them had had a particularly gruelling day. Either way, Molly liked to think those were some good times.

Not to say her kitchen hadn't seen bad times either. Staring at the tiles near the sink, Molly remembered having to scrub them clean of blood after Sherlock had barged his way in more than once, having sustained some sort of injury that he couldn't go to the hospital for. She learned to keep a fully stocked first aid (and lots of bleach) handy after the first incident.

But right now, being in that room was too much to handle. Just 24 hours previous, Sherlock had called her, tore those words from within her and then simply hung up. Of course, a small part of her still held hope that the words she had made him say as well were genuine. There was something in his voice the second time that had made her heart skip a beat. But still, the memories of her greatest heartbreak were still too fresh, turning her sanctuary into her own personal hell. She cursed Sherlock, only he could possibly ruin an entire room for her!

After trying - and failing - 3 times to remain in the room long enough to make a simple cup of tea (something ALMOST ruined by Sherlock as well), Molly gave up, and began to get ready to go to the cafe nearly a block away. A bit of fresh air might be good, she thought to herself.

Of course, said plans were ruined when she opened the door, and nearly ran into Sherlock's chest - his arm raised and finger hovering over the doorbell. Frowning, Molly glared at his surprised face, really not wanting to deal with the consulting detective right now.

"What are you doing here?" She demanded.

He didn't answer at first, slowly lowering his arm as he continued to gaze at her, a look of nervousness crossing his features. Molly folded her arms and leant against her door frame, a clear sign to Sherlock that she wanted answers, and wanted them now.

"Molly, may I come in", he requested, "I think we need to talk".

"Well that's the understatement of the century" she replied bitterly.

They continued to scrutinize each other on Molly's stoop, Sherlock looking more nervous as the seconds ticked on, Molly starting to lose some of the anger that she had stored inside her. After a full minute, she sighed and stepped aside, knowing that if this was going to turn into a screaming match, she would rather have it inside than out in public.

He wordlessly slipped by her, the relief at being allowed inside clearly written on his face. He wasn't hiding anything from her anymore (not that it mattered, seeing as she could see through him). She followed, silently hoping that he wouldn't head straight into the kitchen. No such luck it seemed, as he made a beeline for it. They had had some good memories in that room too, but right now all Molly could think about was how much more bad energy the room could take.

Sherlock finally turned to Molly, took a deep breath, and then immediately stumbled over his words.

"Iloveyoumollyhooper"

It came out in a rush, Molly looking away from him as he stood there awkwardly.

"It's not enough, Sherlock" she whispered, barely holding back the tears that threatened to burst forward from her.

"Molly pl-"

"I SAID IT'S NOT ENOUGH!"

She didn't mean for it to come out that way, but after years of pining, and having her heart pulled in a thousand different directions because of the man before her, she couldn't hold it in anymore.

"I can't do this anymore Sherlock" she continued, struggling to reign in her emotions.

"I have loved you - yes, LOVED you, for far too long, I have stood by while you destroyed yourself, helping you pick up the pieces when I could, not expecting anything in return"

"And now, after the year that we have had, with Mary, and John, and the FUCKING DRUGS! NOW you decide that you love me? Do you even know what that means Sherlock? do you even know what YOU mean by that? Because if you don't, I don't want you anywhere near me until you do".

Sherlock had slowly backed away from her, almost cowering before her rage. He bumped up against the counter, knowing he couldn't get away from her. HE had done this, It didn't matter if Euros was the catalyst, he needed to face up to his actions.

Whatever pre-prepared speech he had come with died at Molly's words. He knew it wasn't enough, it would never be enough.

"Molly" he began, voice cracking, "There are so many things I want to say you to, so many excuses I could give. But that's not what you want to hear right now. All I can say is…. it's true"

He looked into her eyes at this point, wanting to make sure he had her full attention, that she couldn't misconstrue what he was about to say.

"I have loved you for such a long-time Molly. Up until that moment, I was convincing, no - fooling myself that what we had was enough. That your feelings for me weren't that strong, that we could go on forever exactly as we were and no one would get hurt. But I was an idiot to think I could run from this". He took a breath and ploughed on, trying to get out his feelings before Molly could interrupt.

"I thought you were going to die Molly. I had to get you to say that you love me to save your life. But then, you asked me to say the same and I realised…. that there was nothing stopping me from saying it to you. I held back for far too long, not even realising myself what this was until that moment"

"I know that this is not enough, that I will never be enough, and that your forgiveness will be a long time coming. But I want you to know I will wait, I will wait as long as it takes, even if that day never comes. I... I just need to know there is a chance you will forgive me. Maybe even let me love you."

The tears rolling down Sherlock's face were mirrored by Molly's, the desperation in his voice breaking her.

"Sherlock, all I have ever wanted was you" she sobbed, "It hurts me so much that you don't think you are enough for me. Shouldn't I be the one to make that decision? You have never even given us a chance. I know that this is a side you hide from everyone because you think it's a weakness. But it's not, you hear me! Time and time again those around you have proved just how strong it can be! It was Mary's love that saved your life. It was MY love that helped you fake your death. And I know it's your love of everyone that guides you in life, whether you want to admit it or not".

Molly turned from Sherlock, as though gathering her strength for one final push.

"You say I would have died had I not said those words. But I did die, I died completely inside thinking that it was just another game, another case. I am DONE with the games and everything, Sherlock. I am begging you. JUST LET ME LOVE YOU"

Something changed in his eyes. It was like a switched had been thrown. The nervousness and uncertainty giving way to something else. Affirmation. Permission.

Suddenly Molly crossed the distance between them, grabbing the lapels of his coat and pulling him down to her. Their lips met and it was like time stood still. Sherlock tasted their mingled tears - full of desperation, despair, regret - and vowed to himself to never be the cause of this again. The only tears he wanted from his Molly were those of happiness. He broke this kiss, only to return his lips to her cheeks, kissing the dampness away. He wanted to erase the hurt from her body.

Greedily, he took her lips again, this time holding her against him, deepening their embrace.

Molly let slip a moan, the sound full of desire. And maybe a little pain. Her mind was a whirlwind, Sherlock's tongue, and hands, distracting her completely.

She wanted this. Every fibre of her being yearned for this, the feeling of Sherlock's lips on hers, his hands on her arse, pulling her against him. His desire was for her was quite evident.

As they pulled apart for air, a sudden thought came over Molly. She would never be so bold, but she knew it was now or never.

"Sherlock" she panted, "I want you to know that you ruined my kitchen for me. I loved that room, and now I can't stand to be in it".

Sherlock has the decency to look ashamed, almost guilt ridden, when she continued on…

"However, I have just thought of a way you could... change that".

He looked confused for a moment, until he saw the lust-filled look in her eyes.

"Oh Molly, my sweet Molly, I would do anything for you" ...