I hope I've ended this to your liking. I don't plan to continue this specific story, but I wouldn't be opposed to writing a sequel.

"Molly."

"Sherlock." She raised an eyebrow. "Thats all you have to do." The squeeze she gave his hand was a definite comfort, somehow and he responded with eye contact and a nod and she pulled his lips to hers. Grateful he parted his lips, she slid her arm up around his neck. "Follow me." She pulled away and whispered into his ear.

He didn't argue or fight and said nothing as she guided him into her office. "Lock the door, please." She was cleaning off her desk, which didn't take much at all. Turning her attention back her partner, she took both hands and turned him to lean against her desk. He took of his coat. Finally, though, a bit of protest did flow from his lips as she pulled the scarf over his eyes.

"Molly, what are you doing?"

"What does it look like?"

"Well… nothing, honestly. Why are you blind folding me?" Molly hushed him and began trying to soothe him with kisses.

"Bu-"

"Sherlock" Her tone was gentle, but had a bit of a warning to it.

"I just don't—" She hushed him again.

"Do you want to stop?" The detective hesitated. "Do, you?"

"No."

"Alright, than. Just trust me."

"I-"

"Ssshhhhh! Just trust me." He took a ragged breath and allowed her to continue kissing ran her hands up his chest and pulled his blazer down before working on the buttons, kissing him all the way down his torso before slipping his shirt off. Pulling away, Molly gently turned him around and placed his hands on her long desk. "Lay down on your stomach." Hesitantly, he obliged and she climbed up to straddle him. Sherlock could hear her desk drawer open and felt the oil on his back. It was scented.

"Why do you have body oil in your office?"

"Ssshhhh! I prefer it instead of lotion at work. The gloves, the constant washing of my hands… its very drying. Now, hush." She traced the scars on his back and kissed many of them. Thinking to herself how obvious it was this man, in general, but specifically, his physical body had never really been shown an abundance of love and affection. She firmly, but lovingly, proceeded at kneading his back… feeling muscles completely loosen at her touch. "You're an amazing, beautiful man, Sherlock Holmes." A kiss was planted on the nape of his neck. "You don't hear how wonderful you can be enough. You should hear that more often."

"I don't usually do anything that warrants that type of sentiment." He moaned as she found a knot and fought it loose.

"Well, that doesn't mean you don't deserve to be loved at all." Sherlock gripped the desk and adjusted beneath her. "Almost got it undone." She whispered. He tried to stifle himself as he cried out, gleefully, when the knot relented beneath her hands. "Better?"

"Absolutely, Molly." Sherlock cleared his throat. "You should know that I've never really allowed—" She hushed him again.

"Sherlock, its fine. Everything is fine." She climbed down off of him and help him sit up before removing his shoes and socks. To send him the nonverbal message of her plan, she brought him to his feet and pulled his trousers taunt, fingers on the button. "May I, Sherlock?" He reached up and found her face and brought it to his lips; kissing the crown of her head.

"I trust you." He exhaled and she proceeded to remove the last of his clothes.

Sherlock Holmes was naked in front of her, wearing nothing but his scarf as a blind fold. Molly took a few more moments, tracing and kissing scars, before helping him into a chair and set to work on his feet and calves. Giving them the same love and affection she'd shown his back. To her delight, she learned he was ticklish when she brought his foot up to her lips. "Why are you kissing those?" He giggled, pulling away. "They've been in my smelly, sweaty shoe all day."

"Because I want to, now hush!"

"I've going to smell like vanilla and lavender now, you know. People will talk."

"People are always going to talk. You say that yourself." He hummed a response and continued to relax. This was doing him good, she thought. Blindfolding him and easing him into this. In his left foot, she found another knot and enjoyed watching him squirm a bit because of her and her dedicated, loving hands. When that finally relented, she stepped back.

"Where did you go? The oil is too strong, I can't smell you." She touched his arm to sooth him.

"I'm here. Remember…. just trust me… Thats all I'm asking of you, Sherlock." He nodded. "Can you hear what I'm doing?" The response was a deep inhale.

"You're taking off your clothes."

"Yes, I am." He just sat there, breathing and listening as she stripped down. Molly thought maybe he was trying to figure out which article of clothing he was hearing her remove. When she was done, she straddled his thighs and encouraged him to explore her body; running his hands along her skin and leaving one on her breast and guiding the other to the small of her back. He enthusiastically indulged himself in her, leaving her damp with kisses and the sexual frustration she'd endured since her break-up.

She made certain to allow herself to be vocal, since he couldn't see her face, she wanted to make sure he knew she was enjoying his physical attention. In the heat of the moment, his hand had drifted to her clitoris and she let out a loud gasp.

"I'm sorry, Molly. Was that not ok yet?" She giggled.

"Sherlock, its fine. I want this." Molly slid his fingers back beneath her and pulled him into a deep, passionate kiss. Thumb on her clit, he slid two fingers inside her and shuddered like he had the last time, but she could tell he wasn't going to pull away tonight.

"I never knew I got you this wet." He'd released her lips to let her moan out loud.

"You always have, Sherlock."

"Really?"

"I use to touch myself and think of you." He leaned into her and kissed her throat when she threw her head back.

"Wh-what would I do to you?"

"We would do everything to each other, Sherlock." She confessed. "In my mind, we've done this a million times." With a cry of his name, she climax and bent into him for a moment, before heading back to her desk and fumbling through the drawers again.

"Do you know what this is?" She placed the item against his face.

"A condom." Sherlock cleared his throat.

"Do you want to stop?"

"No, Molly."

"This is ok?' Blind as he was, he found her fast and pulled her close.

"I trust you, Molly Hooper." He swallowed and continued. "You're the one that matters the most." Given how rare it was for him to express sentiment, she made sure to reward this with another kiss as she open and rolled the condom over his sizable erection.

She took a moment to simply admire the nervous, but determined, virginal man before her; tousling his hair, kissing his nose and holding his cheek. He was so beautiful. In response, he fussed a bit. "Anything wrong?"

"Absolutely nothing is wrong, Sherlock." She sheathed him within her and then, crossed her arms behind his neck. While the ride started out, slow, he began to fidget from ache and grabbed her hips, grumbling and moaning her name. In one breath, she was salvation and in the next a swear, but he clung to her like she was his last breath. He felt like a mess, like an animal, fumbling around in the dark with one clear mission. She climaxed twice before it was completed.

Once he was spent, and curled into her, she raised the scarf and their eyes met again. Looking up at her from her breasts, he hadn't gotten his breath completely back, yet.

"Molly, I want to see."

"What do you want to see?"

"I want to see your face when …" Molly began to guide his hand, but he objected, pulling them both to their feet before bringing Molly to the far wall and she, reflexively wrapped her legs around his hips.

A more confident and determined man stared her in the eyes now and she melted at his touch. She was going to enjoy exploring his sexuality with him. He seemed to like being dominated a lot, but this man before her, demanding she look in his eyes, was not the same man she'd made love to on the chair a few minutes prior.

As she came undone, he kissed her and she knew in that moment, as she saw that look in his eyes, he was hers.