A/N: So, here it is. The final chapter. I've really loved writing this story. I hope you all have loved reading it as much as I've loved writing it. Please let me know with reviews! Anyway, without further ado, the final chapter :)

He knew he had to act fast, but John was right. He had to plan what he was going to say, and she needed time. He waited three days before he visited Barts. Three excruciating days. He never even knew he could feel like this. He despised it. Part of him wanted to hate Molly for awakening these emotions within him. After all, this had been the whole reason he had avoided sentiment in the first place. It was a distraction. It was destructive. But, he could never hate her.

As he walked into the morgue, he was immediately calmed and keyed up by her presence at the same time. Her back was turned to him, and he walked to her slowly, careful not to disrupt her. For a moment, he simply watched her as she worked, humming softly to herself. He wondered if she knew she did that. Her face was serene, free of the worry and pain he so frequently saw, and he thought she had never looked more beautiful. Finally, he knew he must speak; he couldn't look at her forever.

"Molly?"

She jumped at his voice and turned on the spot. Then her eyes narrowed.

"I really don't want to see you, Sherlock," she hissed, causing him to flinch. He had never seen such anger in her, especially directed toward him.

"Molly, please. You and I have a lot to discuss. Would you like to go get some coffee?"

His blood ran cold as her fury grew. "No, Sherlock, I would not like to go get you some coffee! How dare you come in here after what happened and make demands of me..."

His jaw dropped as she continued to rant. What? How could she possibly have misinterpreted it this time? He didn't say 'how about some coffee?' He didn't ask her to get him coffee. It was clearly an invitation!

She continued her tirade, her voice becoming hysterical as she went on. He ran a frustrated hand through his hair. She began using her hands for emphasis, not even looking at him now. This wasn't going at all how he had planned. It never did with her, because she never reacted as he expected. But then, wasn't that why he loved her? Because she was wonderful and fascinating in her own right? Suddenly, he disagreed with his previous assessment. She didn't look most beautiful when calm. She looked it now, her cheeks flushed angrily, her eyes filled with passion, and her hair slightly mussed from where her own hand had been running through it. He knew then, he couldn't hold back any longer.

"...I may not be as brilliant as you, but I am a bloody good pathologist. You can't come in here ordering me around like I'm your personal slave..."

"Molly."

"...and to think I wasted three years waiting for some smidgen of affection from you. Ha!The only thing you've ever cared about is yourself..."

"Molly."

"...but if you think you can just stroll in here after what happened, ask me for coffee and just talk your way out of this, well, you've got another thing coming, mister. I mean, honestly..."

"Molly!"

But it did no good. She ignored him completely.

"Damnit, Molly," he growled, and before he could stop himself, or even think about his actions really, he had grabbed her, rather forcefully, and pressed his lips against hers.

Her voice cut off immediately as she went stiff in his arms, but all he could focus on was the sensation of her soft, warm lips against his own and - smack!

"Ow! What the bloody hell did you do that for?"

"What? I did that because you just kissed me to shut me up you bloody git! That's a new low, even for you! I can't believe you would-"

"I didn't do it to shut you up!"

She stopped and just raised an eyebrow at him.

"Well, okay, I partly did it to shut you up, but mostly I did it because I wanted to. Seriously though, that really hurt. You've got quite an arm on you, you know that?"

"What did you just say?"

"I said you've got an arm on you."

"Sherlock, you know that's not what I meant,"she says, and he hears how her voice tremors. He looks into her eyes and sees for the first time the vulnerability there, though she tried to cover it up with a frown. He gave her a soft smile as he gently cupped her cheek in his hand, causing her eyes to go wide.

"I said that I wanted to kiss you. In fact, I've been wanting to kiss you for many weeks now."

Hew jaw dropped. "W-what?" she stuttered. He grinned at the return of his Molly.

"Molly, the last time I asked you for coffee several weeks ago, and when I asked you today, you misunderstood my intentions. I wasn't asking you to bring me coffee. I was asking you to go out with me for coffee. As in a date."

Her eyes were still wide, her mouth still slightly opened, but she remained speechless. He grew nervous, but he pressed forward anyway, determined.

"When I came in asking for advice about someone, you thought I was talking about John. I was talking about you, Molly. I had hurt you so badly, and I had no idea how to make up for it. I know now that it was silly to act as if I wasn't talking about myself, but I didn't know how to talk to you. This isn't exactly my area of expertise here."

Again, she remained silent, and he felt a knot growing in his stomach. He continued anyway.

"A few weeks ago, when I came in saying all those odd things and you thought I was sick or drugged, yes I heard your conversation with John, I was trying to find ways to tell you how much I cared for you. It was stupid, I know. I was trying to find a way to say it without actually saying it, because every time I tried to speak to you about it I became tongue-tied. I admit, I couldn't have done it in a worse manner, but I had to tell you somehow that I loved you."

Silence engulfed the lab, but he thought he saw her eyes grow a bit larger.

"And when you were attacked...I understand now that my word choice was very poor when I told you losing you would be inconvenient. What I meant to tell you was that losing you would be unbearable. Hearing you scream on the phone, I thought I had for a moment and I...I cannot describe the terror that I felt. I-I've never felt it before in my life, and I never wish to feel it again. This entire time, I've only hurt you even more, and it could have been avoided if I hadn't been a coward and just told you the truth. I'm sorry."

She froze completely, and he wondered he she was even breathing. He felt the rejection seeping into every part of him. He was too late. She already hated him too much.

"Molly, please say something," he begged. As if he had spoken the magic words, she sprang into action, and by that, meaning she wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him down to smash her lips against his.

He remained unresponsive in shock for all of two seconds before pressing her body tightly to him. She moaned into his mouth at the action, and he felt his stomach jump at the sound. She began to run her fingers through his hair, lightly scratching his scalp. He groaned before nipping her lip lightly. She moaned again, loudly this time, and tugged at his curls roughly. He growled, pulling away from her mouth. She began to whimper in protest, but it quickly turned into a gasp as he attached his lips to her neck. After a few moments, however, her fingers, still firmly wrapped in his locks, began to pull his head away.

"Sherlock," she whispered, and only then did he look up at her. He looked nothing like the polish consulting detective in that moment. His cheeks flushed, his eyes fully dilated, his lips swollen, and his hair sticking up in every direction.

"I should probably tell you that I love you. I always have," she spoke shyly, a small smile on her face, which only grew as a full blow grin broke out across his. Suddenly, he attacked her.

"I love you." He kissed her left cheek. "I love you." He kissed her right cheek. "I love you." He kissed her collarbone. "I love you." He kissed the hollow beneath her ear.

Finally, he hovered right over her lips, staring directly into her eyes. "I love you." He kissed her forcefully. Unfortunately, he pulled away all too soon.

"Someone's coming," he whispered urgently. Panic grew in her eyes, and she pushed him off her frantically, causing him to fall over. She didn't stop to apologize as she ran over to her desk and bent over her paperwork. Not five seconds late, Mike Stamford strolled in.

"Ah, Molly. I just came to relieve you of your shift for the ni- Sherlock? What are you doing on the floor?"

"Um, part of an experiment. Testing the traces of uh...lead on the floor. It's most commonly tracked in by shoes, you know?"

"Oh, right. I knew that."

Sherlock rolled his eyes at the lie as he stood up.

"Well, I'm going to pop up to the lab real quick to grab some cultures, but I wanted to let you know you're free to go, Molly."

Molly smiled politely. "Thanks, Mike."

As soon as the door closed, Molly rushed over to Sherlock.

"I'm so sorry. Are you okay?"

Sherlock chuckled. "I'm fine, Molly."

They walked to the door after Molly gathered her things. She turned to him at the door, the silence filled with a tense electricity.

"Be careful," he whispered as he tucked a lock of her hair behind her ear. Of course, he would follow her home anyway to make sure she did, but she didn't need to know that. She looked down then, a sudden blush covering her cheeks, and he wondered what she was thinking.

"You wouldn't have to tell me that if you came home with me," she spoke softly. He swallowed, his adams apple bobbing in his throat. His heart picked up double speed as his breathing grew shallow and he knew without looking that his eyes would be fully dilated. Molly however couldn't see any of this as she looked at her shoes, and she took his lack of response as rejection.

"Unless you don't want to. I mean, of course you don't. That was awfully presumptuous of me. I'm sorry, I-"

She shrieked suddenly as he picked her up bridal style and carried her out the door.

"It would be my pleasure, Molly Hooper," he said, grinning. She giggled as he walked quickly to the elevator.

A/N: So, that's it! I'm kind of sad it's over. Well, what do you all think? Please let me know! Love you all!