Oh, my goodness, thank you so, Cornishrexmomma, seriously your reviews and encouragement always make me smile…Your words do mean the world to me…

Okay, and now on to the rest of the story…

~*~PART 6~*~

'Dying is a very dull, dreary affair and my advice to you is to have nothing to do with it.

-W. Somerset Maugham

'I have never loved, Watson, but if I did…'

-The Devil's Foot by Arthur Conan Doyle

Supper had been really delicious. Though Molly noticed that people seemed leery about eating or drinking anything at first. She could completely understand why, especially when Violet explained about some misadventures that had happened involving food and drink during Sherlock's younger and teenage years.

It seemed it wasn't the first time Sherlock had done little 'experiments' upon his family. Which to be honest made Molly slightly uncomfortable as well…

"No harm was really ever done. It's just that my little boy has always been so curious…" Sherlock's mother had informed her with a tender look when it seemed that she was lost in her memories…

Sherlock, Molly noticed, seemed to take great delight in Mycroft's apparent discomfort, no matter how much Sherlock's brother gave him, his cold 'why do I really put up with you' glare.

Mycroft seemed very determined not to drink or eat anything served to him, though Molly knew he had something for he'd sneak out to his car claiming the need for privacy to work on some highly classified matter.

At one point Sherlock told him that the stuff out in his car couldn't really be all that good for him…And that there were crumbles on his tie that made him look seriously fat.

So really, Mycroft wasn't fooling anyone yet he didn't really seem to care about it all that much.

Later, there was a nice little party. Sherlock played his violin and there had been some drinks and some light hearted cheer. Molly was not one to get drunk though she did like a nice drink now and then yet she wanted to seriously bludgeon Sherlock with a heavy red wine bottle when he reminded her softly that alcohol was a depressant and not to have too much of it.

Then Molly noticed that both brothers seemed to get highly annoyed with all the holiday cheer around them and at some point they both walked out to come back smelling faintly of cigarette smoke some time later.

Molly had explained to John how she had nearly expected them to go out there and kill each other. With an odd look on his face he admitted that when he first got to know them as brothers…It seemed odd at times. Mycroft had told him before he become Sherlock's flat mate and best friend that Mycroft had been the closest thing Sherlock had to a friend…Mycroft said that Sherlock treated him like an archenemy…And then he'd walk into the flat at Baker Street and find them calmly sitting there…Most of the time trying to out glare each other or playing some board game…

Yet, one day John realized that no matter what happened, to the very heart of the matter they were still brothers. Two brothers that actually cared about each other, even if they had some issues, past resentments…

And for two men who claimed a steadfast hatred for sentiment…

They did indeed love each other. Perhaps not like each other at times but there was a deep profound love that neither knew how to shake off.

John thought that maybe just maybe that was why they seemed to take it out on one another. Neither man could handle emotion all that well and they hated themselves a little for it.

Yet, the Holmes boys were family and really, who could ever really understand family?

Because Christmas would officially happen in the morning they would get to open presents then…

Molly had, of course, brought some gifts for everyone…Even an extra for just in case, and with Mycroft showing up she was glad she had done that. Her gifts had been nice and simple. During the summer she had made some canned jelly and she thought that was easier to give to her dear friends…She had even made some Christmas biscuits in colorful bags that rested near the jelly in colorful shiny gift bags…

Though for Sherlock, she had added funny, quite odd, small plastic figurine that she just had to buy for him. The sight of them had honestly made her laugh out loud in the store much to her great embarrassment.

At the time, her actually laughing in even such a carefree manner had seemed to be a thing from the past. So very rare…With everything she had been going through, she had actually seemed to have forgotten how to do what had once been such a simple and often accruing response…

She knew it was very silly and a bit stupid but she could so easily picture Sherlock taking a blow torch to any one of or all of the four small figurines. They were something the box called 'B Movie the true horror addition'. Each little figurine had men and women that were semi dressed and screaming silently and running with their hands in the air…The girls had crazy high heels on that seriously looked like they could easily be turned into weapons. All of them looked frankly ridiculous.

Did Sherlock really need them? Of course not! They were stupid, but maybe they would make him smile just as it had made her laugh…

However, it wasn't Christmas morning yet…So the presents would continue to wait under the tree with everything sparkling and looking so heartwarmingly cheerful. Molly had been told, by Mummy Holmes as if she was an impatient little child, that presents wouldn't be opened until they had all eaten a big Christmas breakfast.

One could easily see the love and care that Mummy and Daddy Holmes had done with the decorations but even without them one could easily see the great love and care they had put into making their home a warm and welcoming place to be. A place one could easily be comfortable and safe.

At the moment, however, Molly eyed herself in the large bathroom mirror. The woman looking back looked comfortable in her pink and blue flannel long old fashion looking nightgown that had some small white buttons that ran down from her neck to half way near her stomach. With it she wore a very fluffy and quite soft pink robe that had tiny black kitties playing all over it.

The woman in the mirror did indeed wear comfortable nightwear. Yet, the woman in front of her seemed so very nervous and worried…A lingering of intense fear that she was trying so desperately to ignore.

"I don't know why you are so afraid and nervous…" Molly softly informed her reflection. She studied herself hoping to understand but her reflection looked as confused as she was. "You are simply sleeping in Sherlock's bed; with Sherlock…he's not going to do anything…except perhaps watch me sleep…Oh, God!" Molly groaned the last bit looking away.

There had been a time when she use to fantasies about sleeping with the handsome and annoying Sherlock Holmes…of course they had done more than sleep in those fantasies. It had been pure fiction always would be…But they had been nice and sweet fantasies though…

Now, however there was a part of her that felt dead inside and had no desire to have such passionate fantasies about such intimate things like she use to have. Oh, how they had once seemed so lovely, wonderful and passionate…They had made her blush and warm…they had made her so very warm…Made her feel so alive…A normal woman with deep and passionate desires.

Molly now feared that she'd always feel dead inside when it came to passionate desires…Where she once enjoyed being touched, ached with longing, yearned for that dear sweet hot caress…Of course that had been before the rape…Before that happened to her, she had loved life and truly enjoyed sex.

Now…

Before the thought of sharing a bed with Sherlock Holmes, even just to sleep and possibly snore at each other that would have easily awaked her strong desires and made her tingle with excitement.

Now she tingled with intense fear. Not that he would touch her intimately; she knew better…Her fear was what if he did have to wake her up from another one of her nightmares? What if in her panic she thought he was her rapist? What if she violently hit him as she would sometimes wake from a dream gasping from horror and swinging her clinched fist, hitting nothing but air?

She knew Sherlock had come to her flat before to check on her…She had hated the times he caught her having one, she always feared he'd catch her have a massive violent one. Those were the worst. They were so violent that she'd wake to her own sobs and begging…finding that she couldn't stop or control her shaking or the feeling of about to become violently ill…

God, what if she had a seriously bad one tonight?

What if the entire household came running to her screams and saw for themselves the seriously damaged wreck that she had become?

Could Sherlock really be able to stop that from happening?

A very soft knock came from outside the bathroom door. Molly suddenly realized that she was shaking uncontrollably. She gasped some deep breaths hoping to calm herself down, desperate to put her fears behind her.

Finally she took one last deep breath and with trembling fingers unlocked the bathroom door and quickly picked up her small night bag.

Molly gifted an obviously concerned John with a forced smile. It was weak but she couldn't seem to find the energy to try for a better one.

"It's all yours!" Molly offered stepping out.

As the good friend and doctor he was, John asked her if she was okay.

Molly nodded looking away before saying honestly, "I'm really trying to be."

John seemed to accept that answer with a sad understanding look that nearly shattered her already bruised heart.

Before she stepped away to leave, John cleared his throat to say softly, "I made damn sure that our stupid git of a friend didn't go to bed wearing nothing but a bed sheet. Seriously, sometimes the grown man acts like a two year old about to have a temper tantrum! I had to tell him that I'd dress him myself and to trust me, he didn't want me to do that."

Frozen, Molly's eyes widened, "What?"

"I've lived with the man and trust me, every now and then he wears nothing but a bloody sheet wrapped around him! Which I always found embarrassing so to be on the safe side, I made damn sure he was wearing some nice sleepwear. He's even wearing socks…though I'm not sure for how long he'll wear them…I'm talking about the socks…at least, I hope I am."

This time Molly's weak smile wasn't forced though small it was real and true. She softly thanked him and after a moment of studying her, he closed his eyes as if he had a thought that bothered him. Uncertain if he should even say something…

When John opened his eyes, she could instantly see that he had reached a decision. He took a deep breath and slowly released it.

"I get bad nightmares." He informed her in a gentle whisper as if sharing a deep dark secret with her.

Molly stiffened and he carefully continued…

"They are nothing like yours, nothing at all like yours…but they aren't good. Not good at all, really. I see my mates fighting and dying around me…In the nightmares I re-experience the pain and shock of being shot…Of actually believing that I was going to die. I still wake up from a cold sweat, and I'm shaking…Sometimes I'm even crying, Molly. There is no shame in having nightmares, or having a violent response to them. We shouldn't feel shame over any of it…it took me awhile to accept that fact…Actually, to be honest, I still struggle with that fact. I just thought you should know…and, um, if you ever need anything…anything at all from Mary or me…we are here and if you ever have a bad one, or even when it's not so bad…Please, Molly, don't be too ashamed or afraid to call me. Please."

Molly nodded, feeling her eyes flood.

"Sure…Thanks, John." She found herself saying her voice husky and thick.

John returned her nod, shifting his feet.

"Though at least I won't have to call you tonight." Molly added quietly.

John gave her a small smile. "That's right you'll have Sherlock."

An odd peace that she hadn't felt for so long fell over her that instantly calmed her nerves.

And with that they went their separate ways…

After a short walk down the hallway she came to a stop at the door to Sherlock's childhood bedroom. Molly had been in there for a few minutes, earlier, when she had put their bags in the room and quickly unpacked. Yet, she had studied the room as intensely as she use to study a body on one of her slabs.

The walls had been a gently light creamy blue and the carpet a rich, lovely dark blue. Some small wooden end tables that had seen better days and a chest covered in stickers. Mostly colorful skull and crossbones and one claiming that only pirates where allowed to open the chest. There was even a beautiful antique desk, with a large round magnifying glass that seemed to be used as a paper weight.

On one wall there was a big map of Britain and a poster of different types of bugs…On the opposite wall there was a large colorful map of the world in bright cheerful colors and next to that a large old periodic table that actually had some newer elements colored penciled in…

What charmed her most was in the corner was a plastic, yet lifelike skeleton that dangled with a thick rope around its neck from a large metal hook from the ceiling and then there were books…lots and lots of books.

Some titles tempted her into wanting to ask if there was some way she could borrow them.

Molly tentatively knocked upon the Sherlock's door; she was worried at first that it was much too light for him to hear. So Molly was about to knock again, much louder this time when she suddenly heard Sherlock yelled, "You don't have to knock, Molly! Just come in!"

"I do if you are only wearing a bed sheet!" Molly found herself yelling back.

Silence followed for a moment.

"I'm dressed." His voice was heard clearly and was that a slight pout in his tone? "John made sure of that! You both would have done quite well living in Victorian times…Though that would have been interesting for us, wouldn't it? I'm certain I'd still be a consulting detective for crime is quite common, its logic that's rare, no matter what time one lives in…and just think I'd have been able to smoke anywhere, without nasty looks and telling me how horrid smoking is for my heath…God, that alone would be worth walking through horse shit filled streets..."

She bit her lip trying to hide a smile even if he couldn't see it and slowly cracked open the door to peek inside. As if making sure he wasn't lying and was indeed in the rumored famous bed sheet.

Sherlock lay upon his back on the bed, right on top of his blue striped comforter. Hands behind his head, he stared at the ceiling and he was indeed correct he was fully clothed. Sherlock was dressed in his silky blue dressing gown, left open of course. A grey T-shirt and green sweat pants and bright white socks…Within those socks, his toes wiggled and danced…For some reason she was completely charmed by the sight.

Sherlock sighed, lifted his head to look at her before repeating, "Do come in, Molly."

So that is exactly what she did, shutting the door behind her, Molly carefully tossed her small overnight bag off to the side as she rested against the door. Once more wondering why she went with choice number three.

Sherlock sat up to grin sardonically, "What, not ready to go night-night?"

For some reason Molly felt heat rise to her cheeks and she looked shyly away.

"To be honest, I'm really not all that sleepy."

Sherlock seemed to spring from his bed in one fluid motion. "Good! Neither am I." He rubbed his hands together before continuing, "So let's go back to that conversation we were having, shall we?"

Molly simply had to look at him with wide eyes trying to frantically figure out what conversation interested Sherlock enough to want to go back to having it…

Now, Sherlock was simply standing there, watching her quite carefully, waiting for her to figure out with great calmness that she honestly hadn't known he had and she couldn't stand it!

"What conversation?" Molly finally asked curiously.

He waited a beat before saying slowly, "Why do you want to go out with a suspected puppy kicker?"

Molly jerked her head back so it rested against the door, while her hands flew up to her face as she groaned in deep despair…

"God! Sherlock! Why must we even talk about it? God, why!?"

"Well, I told you that we were going to put the conversation on the backburner…Not my fault if you deleted what I said to you." Sherlock told her with a very careless shrug.

Molly slowly removed her hands from her face. "I didn't delete it, I just don't want to talk about it!"

"Why?" Sherlock asked with a puzzled gaze, "Does talking about a suspected puppy kicker bring you emotional pain?"

"NO! And stop calling Tobias a suspected puppy kicker!"

"His name isn't worth a second in my mind palace…Yet, I've come to notice that when I call the total moron the suspected puppy kicker you seem to know exactly who I'm speaking of…So, why do you want to go out with him when we both know you have no real desire to do so?"

Molly grimaced, feeling certain that she had just turned deathly pale.

"Sherlock…" She breathed, "Why? Really, why must we talk about this? Ever?"

"Because you matter to me and because I really don't want you to be dating…"

Molly felt her heart give a sudden leap but then she realized…

"Are you telling me you don't want me dating because I have horrid taste in men?"

Sherlock blinked at her as if surprised, "Well, given your history, that's true no doubt, but…Well, even though I'm not certain that you are really ready for any relationship… I thought that when you felt it was time to start dating again you'd be asking me out."

To say that Molly was stunned was indeed an understatement and she had to swallow hard. She quickly moistened her suddenly dry lips and for the first time noticed how his eyes instantly watched the movement like a hawk watching its prey…She even noticed that his hands gave a slight twitch…

"H-How was I to know that you were expecting that a-and w-why would I even ask you?" Molly asked carefully still feeling very confused and desperately needing to understand.

"Because I'm what you like. I've always been what you like." Sherlock told her softly and quite honestly. "And you should have known I was waiting for you to make the move and ask me—"

"HOW!?" Molly demanded, "How was I to know that?"

"We kissed. That night on the roof of Bart's…" Sherlock informed her, as if she really should have already known that fact and remembered that night. "That kiss held a lot of promise Molly, and more importantly after everything that you have gone through…you kissed me back."

"I know I kissed you back! But you only kissed me that once! And-and you never seemed to want to kiss me after that night!" Molly protested.

"It wasn't because I didn't want too. I did and still do in fact. I actually liked kissing you." Sherlock told her, his voice deep and raw with truth. "I thought…I truly thought you understood…" He now sounded as confused as she felt.

"I don't…" Molly whispered, something inside her began to warm, yet…she really wasn't sure could ever understand. "I really don't."

Sherlock sighed, with a slight shake of his head.

"Molly…" He began, "You've been raped."

To think he actually had the audacity to say that as if she hadn't realized that fact for herself!

"I did some research…" He continued…

'Well, of course,' Molly thought, 'Sherlock Holmes would do some research…He likes research…'

"Rape is not about desire. It has nothing to do with desire." Sherlock informed her very softly, "It's about control. He got off on it as well as the pain he brought to you. He used you and hurt you greatly…I'm not a man who dwells upon wishes but I do wish constantly that I had somehow kept that from happening to you. For a long time you have been feeling like that bloody damn bastard had destroyed you, damaged you way beyond repair…and Molly, I swear to you that he didn't, he really didn't."

He stopped speaking and waited as if by now she had to understand. As if everything was finally crystal clear…Except it still wasn't, not to her…

Molly carefully took a couple of steps closer towards him, to come to a complete stand still.

"I'm sorry, Sherlock…I still don't understand." Molly admitted.

Sherlock whirled away from her as he jerked his fingers into his own dark curls.

"CONTROL! God!" Sherlock shouted, before facing her once more. "He forced his control upon you, Molly! He attempted to take your own control and crush it! I want…I want to give you back that control that he so savagely took from you. Whatever we have you are going to be the one to be in control of it!"

"Whatever we have…" Molly softly echoed back before saying, hopefully, "Do you mean like…boyfriend and girlfriend…you and me?"

"If that is what you want. Though the term 'boyfriend' and 'girlfriend' is so very juvenile. "Sherlock even wrinkled his nose with disdain before continuing in a normal tone. "Whatever we have, we'll have it together…but, Molly I'm not that good with people or relationships. I never have been and I am married to my work…and even with the fact I'm not good with people. For some reason I still ended up with John, you and Mary, Ms. Hudson…and…well, anyway, with you I would like to try this whole relationship thing…Molly, you above everyone knows my methods. They are not always kind. I'm a very logical man…and…and I can also be a very manipulative bastard. John has warned me that after what you have gone through if I do what is in my nature to do that I could lose you forever. So, when it comes to you, I have been trying. Really trying not to manipulate you but…I still find moments when…For example, I don't want you to date others so I warn you that he might be a puppy kicker…and I must warn you that the next man you think of accepting a date from will turn out to be a suspected kitten drowner."

"Sherlock!"

He held out his arms to her and perhaps even to the universe in general as if to say, 'what do you expect from me, really?'

Sherlock carefully moved towards her until he could reach out and tenderly wrap his hand around her wrist.

"At least, I'm warning you… and you know with your taste in men there is a possibility that they just might end up being puppy kickers and cute kitten drowners." He informed her softly.

"Yet, my taste can't be all that bad…as you know…you are what I like…" Molly seemed to tell him a bit breathlessly.

"Yes." Sherlock answered back, with his free hand, he tenderly almost lovingly caressed her cheek. "Except I don't kick puppies or drown kittens."

"So…If I want a relationship?" She asked nervously, biting her lip.

Sherlock smiled sweetly, "We can have one…One I will try my damnest to let you be in control of it. This will be all at your own pace. If you want to kiss, we'll kiss…You want to go out to a dull romantic movie, we'll negotiate…Maybe you can go with John and I will go with Mary and do some target practice…but Molly don't try to force things to happen just because you—"

"Want to be normal?" Molly asked her eyes sliding away from his.

"I'm not sure you're ever really been normal, hell, you are in love with me, Sherlock Holmes, hello by the way, so in all honesty you'll never be normal, Molly Hooper."

"…I wanted to go out with Tobias just to see if I could …be normal once more…You know, actually enjoy myself out on a date like I use to do. I just wanted to be who I use to be…before…before the rape…that's all. J-Just for a moment, I wanted to forget and be who I use to be…that's all, Sherlock. I just wanted to be the normal girl I use to be…I just wanted to be…the old me. Before the rape…before I became…this, woman who is afraid and feels as if I'll never be who I use to be again." She admitted as silent tears ran down her cheeks.

"Oh, Molly…" Sherlock breathed, his forehead now rested on hers. "You are still you. Your rapist didn't steal that from you. We all change, none of us can avoid that from happening, just as our bodies change as we grow older, yet we are still who we really are on the inside. He hurt you, yes, yet as I told you before he didn't destroy who you are on the inside…Never that…"

"But…" Molly attempted to argue.

"No, buts…" Sherlock told her firmly, pulling slightly away to look down at her. Both of his hands came up to cup her face and carefully, quite tenderly, wiped her tears with his thumbs. "Molly, my dear sweet Molly, let's say you did go out with this suspected puppy kicker and he casually, not really thinking, reaches out to take your hand or put his hand on the small of your back…"

Molly flinched, she honestly hadn't thought about that…

Sherlock continued…

"I'm touching you and you haven't flinched away from me, yet at the thought of this man casually or even purposely touching you…you flinch…Molly, you're normal enough. You are still, Molly Hooper, who will always be just normal, enough…"

Molly gave Sherlock a weak chuckle.

"For you anyway…"

"And now you understand." Sherlock told her firmly.

"Yes…I now understand." Molly whispered, her tone still shaking because of her tears and the intense emotion she was experiencing.

Molly's hands reached up and palmed his face just like he was doing with hers.

"Sherlock?" She found herself asking.

"Molly?" He asked softly in return.

"So…If I want to…well, you know…try…um…I-I mean…Just to see…"

"Just ask, Molly, simply ask."

Molly did as he ordered.

"Kiss me?" She asked, suddenly shy yet incredibly hopeful.

He leaned in and at first placed a soft kiss on Molly's lips. He removed his hands from her face to slide them down to her waist and pull her even closer and tighter against him. The woman in her knew he was aroused but he seemed to be controlling it beautifully… Sherlock's kiss seemed to carefully, as if attempting to not to spook her, became deeper.

A tender and sweet kiss…full of so much warmth…passion…and Molly wasn't sure but she thought she could feel the love within it as well…Though she wasn't certain of it.

All Molly knew for certain was the feeling of his lips on hers were at the moment the most important thing in the world to her. A gathering warmth, long forgotten, incredibly slow seemed to flow through her veins…it was so very carefully being reawaken….

Sherlock pulled back slightly, "So still good for you as well?"

Molly's response to the question was to slide her palms up to Sherlock's head. Sighing happily, Molly kissed Sherlock, burying her hands deep into his curly dark silky hair. Holding his head tightly in place so she could take his mouth with her own…

Sherlock actually groaned as he held her in his arms. Slowly, lovingly deepening the wonderful passionate kiss.

When they both allowed the kiss to end, Molly waited for her heart to stop racing…She actually felt alive. Felt almost whole…Felt a little bit normal, she wasn't there yet but almost…For a moment she could nearly believe she wasn't really damaged beyond all repair.

Molly stayed safely in his arms, never waiting to pull away and he seemed quite willing and happy to continue to hold her.

Sherlock's beautiful intelligent eyes held hers before saying, "Molly, I have something I need to ask before we go any further…It's something I've never asked anyone especially a girl and seeing that neither of us are sleepy…"

Molly, in total trust, studied him in return. With other men, she'd have felt overly nervous and highly apprehensive about whatever he planned to ask her…

But with Sherlock Holmes, Molly knew she'd always be safe with him, no matter what he ever asked her…

After a beat, Sherlock continued with a glint of excitement as well as with a small charming smile, "Would you like to play with my chemistry set?"

Molly began to laugh.

It was a good, honest laugh full of carefree happiness and true steadfast joy.

"Yes…" She gasped through her laughter, "I really would like that a lot…"

And for the first time, Molly was so very happy that she went with choice number three…

~*~THE END?~*~

~*~SH~*~SH~*~

Well…

I do hope you enjoyed this story…

If you would like to leave a review that would be lovely and I do thank you a head of time from the bottom of my very weird heart…

Even if the review is to tell me to stop writing for its making your eyes bleed…Though if you do…First, never! Second if your eyes are bleeding its highly doubtful my story did that to you and you really should seek medical attention immediately…

As I'm sure you noticed there is a question mark at the end of this story mostly because I love sequels…Especially sequels to sequels…so…guess what?

That's right…

So, if you are interested please keep watch for a one part story called, "Surrounded by a Certain Longing"…

It might be out in days or months, we'll see…for at the moment I need to get back to writing my 'A Shark, A Goldfish and the Village Idiot' fic…

Anyway, thank you so much for taking the time to read this story and I do hope that you have a lovely day…Mental Hug ~Moonunit