Part Two

The almost sexual encounter with Molly was becoming a pesky problem to Sherlock as it plagued his thoughts. He plucked the strings of his violin and leaned back on his couch cushions - where had he gone wrong?

Yes, he had forced a kiss on her but he had assumed that she would have reciprocated immediately. After all, she was desperately in love with him, or she was last time he checked. She had shown obvious signs of arousal and piqued interest but had still pushed him out. He certainly did not think her a whore as she had implied, she was one of the farthest things from it.

His plucked the strings again and considered her words - she was foolish to think he took her for a plaything. She was convienantly available to help him in his questionably legal activities at the morgue, and she was more than willing to participate then - so why was this interaction so different.

Sex. Sometimes Freud did get some things right.

Sherlock considered his motivations. When she had pushed him back he had felt something flame within him, he liked this new Molly Hooper who could hold a sentence and take command of a situation. Her confidence had only made him want her more - images of a sexually dominant Molly flashed through his mind - perhaps she wasn't as inexperienced as he had previously assumed.

Sherlock bit his lip and strummed the strings again, it seemed that he was not as immune to sexual desire as he had previously thought. What had started as an experiment was beginning to spiral out of control in his mind, the feeling of her hot lips was still present on his mouth. Her thin lips were deceiving and in that brief moment when her mouth had moved in sync with his he could honestly see the rest of the night going swimmingly. Unfortunately she had to regain her senses and question his motives.

His hand gripped the neck of the violin as he remembered the feel of her body pressed against his, she was so small and so delicate - even know, hours later, he still wanted her.

So Molly Hooper wasn't one for an open sexual relationship, she wanted strings and she wanted them around Sherlock. He considered the pros and cons of this for a moment. He would have to pay her more attention, give gifts, regularly accompany her to dinner, share private things, commit to her in some way. But he would also have unlimited lab access, frequent sexual intercourse, and the loss of a garish nickname. He would be The Virgin no longer.

He considered his own feelings for a moment, something that he rarely allowed himself to do. Did he love her? Obviously not. Did he care for her? Somewhat - he determined that he would mind it very much if she was no longer working at St. Bart's, if he no longer saw her day to day. Did he trust her? Yes. The decision was made for him, he needed to persue this relationship with her - for the experiment and for himself.

He had upset her though and if he was ever going to properly court Molly Hooper he'd have to make ammends. He had apologized to her once already, another time might not hurt. Dropping his violin on the side table he pulled on his coat and scarf and pushed out the door and took to the streets to hail a cab. Molly's flat wasn't far.

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Molly's head was still spinning as she sipped her evening mint tea and wrapped her silky dressing gown around herself. She could hardly believe that she had rejected Sherlock Holmes - one night with him was surely better than a life without him entirely, wasn't it? But somehow she really couldn't bring herself to regret kicking him out of the lab, she had been listening to too many self-help books telling herself she was worth it. She had finally started to believe it. After the Jim fiasco and a long stint of loveless nights Molly Hooper was finished pining over Sherlock Holmes, she could either have him fully (the possibility of which was next to nil) or she could move on.

She had just cracked open Pride & Prejudice for the ninetieth time when there was a loud knock on the door behind her. The book slipped from her fingertips and clattered onto the floor, the persistant knock came again and she hopped to her feet, pulling the dressing gown tight together over her chest and taking a few steps forward to check through the peep-hole.

"Molly," Sherlock's voice came, "please open the door, I can hear you awake in there,"

She groaned and ran a hand through her loose hair before clicking open the lock and letting the door spring free, "What are you doing here?"

"I have a proposition for you," he pushed past her into the flat and turned to face her, two cups of steaming coffee in his hands.

"I thought we already covered that subject this afternoon," she noted, trying to keep her cool.

He grimaced, "No, Molly, it is a legitimate proposal," he thrust the coffee towards her.

"Oh?" she raised an eyebrow and crossed her arms under her bust.

"I would like to go on a date with you, Molly Hooper," he stated blandly.

"You mentioned something about that earlier before you snogged my face off," she retorted and took the coffee, putting it on the table beside her.

His jaw locked momentarily, "You're making this increasinly difficult with your sarky comments," he noted, "you could at least allow me to finish,"

She waved her hand in a gesture that said, 'go on ahead'.

He nodded curtly and then continued, "I wish for you to be my... girlfriend," the words sounded awkward on his tongue, "a reltionship in which we will both benefit I believe, both in shared lab equipment and monogomous sexual interactions," he took a half step forwards, "in addition I believe you would not find the situation disagreeable,"

"You're confusing me here," she confessed, "you've never paid me a sideways glance in that way... why now?"

"Because," he stated simply, "I would like to further our relationship and I believe this is the natural progressive step - this is what people do, correct? Find a suitable individual to sustain a monogomous sexual relationship,"

"Yes," she bit her lip, "why me?"

Sherlock's eyes studied her for a moment, taking in her tousled and natural hair, minimal makeup, plunging nightdress neckline, and smooth skin. So Molly Hooper liked to look good at home, despite the fact she wasn't entertaining many men.

"You intrigue me," he admitted, "I would like to discover why,"

"I... intrigue you?" she repeated.

"Yes," he took a step closer and suddenly broke into her personal bubble, "you are somewhat of a mystery to me, Molly Hooper. I wish to discover more about you - for some reason I find that I can trust you Molly, and I find myself wanting to progress our relationship,"

"Sherlock," she began.

"No," he held up a hand, "I believe that if you were to allow me the chance I would prove to be a most interesting candidate for a suitor. Although I don't claim to know the particulars of dating I understand that both parties find it quite enjoyable and it can remain as casual or as committed as the couple so wishes,"

"Sherlock," she protested again.

He continued, his words running over hers, "I believed that you would have accepted sooner because of your obvious attraction to me, and I am sorry about my crass behavior earlier at the morgue. I made an incorrect assumption, it will not happen again. However, I find myself very attached to the idea of maintaining a steady sexual and intellectual relationship with you so long as you are willing to,"

"That's the problem with you Sherlock," she sighed and put a hand firmly on his chest, "You never know when to just shut the hell up,"

"Wh-" he began.

Molly gripped his neck with her opposite hand and pulled his lips down to hers in a brisk movement, their mouths quickly resuming the synced rhythm he had enjoyed so much.

"So is that an agreement?" he murmured as she pulled back.

"Yes, you git," she rolled her eyes and pulled the lapels of his jacket to force their mouths back together.

Sherlock gathered his arms around her and discovered that he rather liked holding Molly Hooper, the warm feeling of her body flush against his. Perhaps he would find this more enjoyable that he originally thought, he thought, as he kissed her thin lips. Her coffee with cream and one sugar forgotten on the table.

A/N: Yay! Fic finished! Okay, so it was just a drabble, but it was damn fun to write. :D I hope you all liked it!

For those of you reading my multi-chap Sherlolly fic series (The Long Way Home & The Domestic Analysis) I will be posting a new chapter TOMORROW. (That's Feb 11) but I hope this tides you over until then. I just don't have enough time tonight to get out a chapter that's worth reading. But stop by tomorrow and there will be one awaiting you.

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