Tumblr prompt! Kind based on Anderson telling Sherlock his theory on how he faked his death ;)

"Bit disappointed."

"What?"

"Well... It's not how I'd have done it."

"Oh, everyone's a critic. Go on then, how do you think I did it?" Sherlock smirked at Anderson as he sat in a small chair in front of the camera.

"Well. If you had a bungee cord, that would work wouldn't it? And... Stop laughing at me!" Anderson glared at him. "If you aren't going to take me seriously, I won't tell you."

Sherlock visibly sobered, slipping into the cold detached mask Anderson was used to.

"Right. Well. I think that there are a number of ways you could have done it, but this is my favourite, cause its the most likely. In my opinion."

Sherlock muttered under his breath, something sounding eerily like idiot, why am I listening to this and Molly.

"Anyway, well. I don't really know how to start. Oh, well you had no idea Moriarty would definitely shoot himself in the face, so I assume you had a number of back up plans, and then when he did shoot himself, you texted Molly to get the silicon face mask and contacts ready for his face-"

"What!? Anderson, that is preposterous. How was I supposed to have gotten the exact measurements for his face?"

"I've thought about that. Molly. She was in a relationship with him, she must have told you. Any way, you're interrupting again. So, she's got the mask ready and waiting, whilst you are on the roof, trying not to die, with a bungee cord wrapped securely around your waist and anchored to something on the roof.

"You're in the ledge, waiting, on the phone to John and drop the phone, then leap off the building, so all John sees is you fall, as you're hidden by the ambulance station and he is knocked over by one of your homeless network on a bike, Derren Brown hypnotises him- don't look at me like that."

Sherlock's face was frozen in disbelief and mirth, staring at Anderson in shock.

"Ah hem. Yes... Okay continuing, Derren Brown makes sure he doesn't see you bungee back up, and Molly throws the masked Moriarty out of the window that you crashed through, whilst you undo the bungee cord, flick your coat out, ruffle your hair and reach for Molly's face slowly, bringing her lips forcefully to yours in a soul searing kiss that makes her knees nearly give out, so she reaches her hand up to your face, cupping it gently as you deepen the kiss, both of you breathless as you pull away from her, turn and leave Barts without looking back. Obviously, John reaches dead Moriarty, feels for a pulse and can't find one so believes that you are dead, and breaks down so-"

Sherlock's shocked laugh interrupted him.

"What the hell? That's what you... That's what you think?"

"Yes, what's wrong with it? As long as the cord was tied securely, it would work! Besides it is much more feasible than yours. Maybe not the Derren Brown bit.."

Sherlock sat in the chair, laughing incredulously.

"You put a lot of effort into that kiss. Why would I kiss Molly? Her lips are too small, as are her breasts, she would quite honestly be described as mousy at best and most people seem to believe John and I are in a relationship, despite Mary being his fiancee."

"Ah, but there. You're defensive, and insulting Molly. I've been thinking since you've been away-"

"Always a bad idea, Philip."

"Well I've been thinking and analysing you over the past two years, and I've noticed you only insult people when you are bored, defensive or hiding something. I think it's the last two."

Anderson leaned back smugly as Sherlock schooled his face into an impassive mask.

"Well if that is all, I have things to be doing, cases to solve, the sort of thing you wouldn't know about since being... let go of." He stood, gathering his scarf and Belstaff.

"Not quite yet, I haven't finished yet. So once you escape Barts, you go to Molly's to hide out for a bit, out of the way so no one realises you're not dead except for me, and then she gets home to find you passed out from exhaustion in her bed, she hasn't the heart to move you, but the spare bed is covered in boxes and the sofa is barely big enough for Toby, never mind a fully grown woman.

"So she awkwardly climbs into bed beside you, blushing the entire time with her back firmly turned against you. Then, in the night, you both end up cuddling, and you wake up with her sweet smelling hair against your mouth, arms circling her small waist and her sighing your name gently. You lean down to kiss her on the nose and-"

A soft, gentle voice interrupted him.

"Sherlock, you haven't been telling him about our time together before you had to rush around saving the world?"

Molly stood, arms crossed under her breasts as a genuine smile touched Sherlock's mouth.

"You know I wouldn't, Molly. What happens between us is between us and us only." He reached over to her, drawing her into his arms and pecking her lightly on the lips.

"You don't mind me stealing him away, do you?" Molly smiled gently at Anderson, pulling Sherlock out of his seat towards the door.

"Uhm" Anderson stared, mouth hanging open as he realised his OTP was canon.

Sherlock leaned down as the left, whispering into her ear.

"Sweetheart, I don't care that the camera was still rolling. They were going to find out sooner or later..."

Okay I'm sorry, this didn't flow anywhere near as well as I hoped it would. Still, I am pretty sure it could have gone worse :) Feel free to review!