Take a Chance On Me

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At the end of Molly's shift, she cleaned the lab and the utensils she had used for the day before gathering her personal belongings and exchanging some words with the person responsible for the next shift, then left Barts to return to her flat.

She had to admit she was feeling a little nervous about meeting with Sherlock. She hadn't seen him in almost two months and after their last encounter, which was kind of dramatic, she found that it was impossible to not feel at least a little anxious.

She decided to take the Tube instead of just getting into a cab. That way she would have more time to think during her walk home from the station of what on Earth she was going to say to Sherlock when she saw him.

When Molly finally arrived to her flat, she took off her coat and hung it on the door, greeting a hungry Toby rubbing against her legs, and made her way to the kitchen to grab some food for the feline who was now meowing behind her.

"Oh, you're just happy to see me because you're hungry!" she said at the impatient cat.

"Well, yes, I'm quite peckish." The voice came from the dark sitting room, startling Molly, but she recognized him in less than a second. "But that's not the reason why I'm happy to see you."

"Oh my god, Sherlock. What are you doing here? You scared me!" She moved swiftly to turn on the lights of the room and there he was, sitting on her sofa and as handsome as ever.

Stop it, she told herself.

"Hello Molly, sorry that I let myself in. I was bored and you said your shift was not over for another two hours, so I decided to spend quality time with Toby."

"Quality time, huh?" She narrowed her eyes. "You two never got along. Toby hates you and the feeling is mutual." Molly had not even finished speaking when Toby climbed into Sherlock's lap and began purring at the human petting his head.

"You traitorous cat!" she said, and burst into laughter, her eyes closed and head thrown back.

"See? We have grown quite fond of each other in the last two hours and 27 minutes."

"I see that now. Who would've thought?" She rolled her eyes.

"Well, I must mention that I brought him some treats."

Sherlock got up from his seat and Toby immediately dashed to another room. He walked up to her and wrapped her in a hug.

Sherlock Holmes was hugging her.

Am I dreaming?

He had never hugged her, only chaste kisses on her cheek and some occasional handshakes.

She had only received hugs from him in her dreams... Oh, and so much more…

"Molly, could you please stop thinking," he said against the top of her head.

"Oh, yes, sorry…." This time she returned the hug. He smelled wonderful; she could stay like this forever.

GET. IT. TOGETHER. She reminded herself as she broke away.

"I know a great place that's near here – well, John said it was good. We could go there and grab something to eat… if that's alright with you."

"Yeah, sure, let's go. I'm just going to change." She gestured to the outfit she had been wearing all day, which smelled of death and chemicals. To anyone else it would seem like she just wanted to get into something a little bit comfier. Sherlock nodded and Molly went into her room to change.

The place was lovely, small but cosy, and the food was delicious. Molly had always loved Mexican food; it was an experience for her. The dishes were always vibrant and colourful and had life on their own. Molly really enjoyed it, and for her it wasn't as spicy as everyone said.

"Thank you for taking the time to meet with me today," Sherlock said, all too formally.

"Oh, don't thank me. I wanted to. That's why I agreed to it. Though I'm surprised you are eating something else than chips," she said before taking a bite of her food.

No word was said after that and they ate their respective meals in silence. This never had happened before; they always had something to talk about, from experiments they were doing at Barts to Sherlock updating her on some of his unsolved cases.

Things were getting more and more awkward. Molly started to unconsciously tap her fingers on the table.

"So… are we having tequila shots?" she asked.

"If you want, we can order a... round? Though, you have to work early tomorrow, and the, er..."

"Sherlock, I'm messing with you. I needed to clear the air; it was getting awkward." She gave a half shrug.

He stared at her and exhaled. Molly could've sworn he was nervous. He looked it.

Why would he be nervous? He is the great Sherlock Holmes.

"Look, Sherlock." She was going to get it all out. She just wanted to be at peace with Sherlock and return their friendship to as normal as possible. She had come to terms – well, she was trying to – that the detective was never going to feel the same way as she did and she really wanted to move on to the next stage and this was her first step.

Are you sure that he doesn't feel anything for you? Just look at that gorgeous face and how he looks at you! Meena's voice chided inside her head.

"I know our last meeting was not good. It was awful, actually. I was hurting so badly and I know you were in a rough patch too. I had time to think about things and I just wanted to say that I don't expect anything from you because of the words we, um, said that day. You were doing your job, saving the day, and I did my part too. I saved my life even if I didn't know it then." She gave him a weak smile. "So, let's just try to forget the disastrous events of that day. I'll be forever grateful that you tried to save my life. I really appreciate your friendship, Sherlock. I must say that you're insufferable sometimes and you need to step up your game and be a lot nicer, but I want to be friends with you, help you with cases, do experiments at the lab and all that. Let's start over, Sherlock, a clean slate."

"Well, solving crimes together sounds lovely and the lab at Barts is way better than the one I have improvised in my kitchen, but the part where we remain friends it's not what I'm looking for, Molly." He leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest.

Oh, she was so done with Sherlock bloody Holmes.

"What…?"

"It's not what I'm looking for because… I want more than that, Molly."

What is happening? Molly thought to herself.

"That day… I meant it, the words. I didn't know that at the moment, but they were true. You asked me to say them like I really meant it and that's what I did. It's just that I kept telling myself that I had only done it to save you."

She was definitely dreaming. First he hugged her and now… this? She must have inhaled something in the lab by accident and now she was having some kind of strange hallucination.

And then, pain hit her. A terrible thought crossed her mind.

"Okay, whose death do I have to falsify? Is it Mycroft's, yours again? Just tell me, Sherlock. And we'll work on it, but you don't need to play with me. You know I'll help you. You don't need to do this."

"No, Molly! It's not that, why would you even think of that? Did you hear what I just told you?"

Benefit of the doubt, Molly thought. Sure, he may have flirted with her a couple of times to get access to the lab and some bodies, but that was ages ago. Things were different now, they had changed. He had changed.

"Hear me out, Molly. This is not easy for me. I've never been good at expressing what I feel." He took a deep breath. "I have feelings for you. They're not just friendly, they're beyond that. I must admit to you that I've felt like this for a while now, but as I said earlier, I kept denying it. I'm not good at these kind of involvements. I used to have such a different opinion of all the things I'm feeling right now and that's why it took me so long to finally sort through the mess."

He stared intensely at her, but she looked the other way. She felt like time had stopped. She felt dizzy. She was going to throw up. She had dreamt of this moment countless times. Sherlock Holmes, the man she had loved for so many years, admitting his feelings for her. Why wasn't she bursting out in tears of joy? She just felt… odd.

"Why didn't you say something?" she managed. "I know the last time we saw each other you were as confused as me. But you disappeared for almost two months, without a word. I asked for a time out, I know that, but I didn't want you out of my life, Sherlock! I thought that you didn't want to see me anymore."

"I was... afraid. Molly, you know that I'm well versed in thousands of subjects. This one is definitely not my forte, but I don't want to be in the dark anymore. I'm tired of fighting against all of these emotions. I want to give in. For you, Molly."

"I'm just having trouble believing this is real. I don't know how to… feel."

"It is real, Molly. I'm sorry it took me so long. I was worried for so many reasons that I even thought of never telling you."

"Wh-what?" She cocked her head.

"You'd be a target. If anyone wanted to hurt me, they would get to use you as my pressure point. I'd put you at risk, but still that's not the main problem. I'd be distracted from my work, I'd become less effective on cases." He was so nervous Molly swore she could hear him thinking he was losing his mind. He blurted out the words and couldn't seem to stop. "I mean, I can handle the pressure of putting you at risk, why would I care about that?" He even let out a small laugh, but immediately regretted it.

Molly huffed. This is the prick I know. She grabbed her coat from the back of the chair and put in on.

"Wait – no! That is not what I was trying to say. Of course my main concern is exposing you to any kind of danger."

But she wasn't listening anymore. He'd shown enough of his hand. "I'm leaving, Sherlock. I'll see you at the lab. We can continue working together, I really meant that part. But stop this, please. Quit playing with me. You know how I feel about you, and calling me a distraction? I can't handle it, Sherlock." She got up from the table, trying to look as calm as possible. She wasn't looking forward to making a scene in front of strangers in a restaurant.

"Molly, don't…" He got up from his chair and grabbed her from the wrist. She looked at him right in the eyes and he freed her instantly.

Maybe he thought that she was going to leave at that moment, but instead she got closer to him very slowly and hugged him.

"Don't you even dare following me to my flat, Sherlock Holmes. My neighbours still remember the scene you played the other night. And for the record, I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself."

She stepped back and walked away.

Sherlock just stood there, speechless.

He was never speechless, but this was not the first time that Molly Hooper had left him that way.

He paid the bill and left. He was still not sure whether to go to Molly's flat and try to make amends – again – or just take her advice and direct himself to his newly renovated flat. He chose the latter and hailed a cab.

On his way to Baker Street, he couldn't help but text her, even knowing she was going to get angrier at him as a result.

Looking forward to our next date. S

He pressed the "send" button with a small smile.

A minute later, his phone buzzed with a new text.

Bugger off, Sherlock. M

Well, at least she answered.

He climbed the stairs to his flat and found John sitting in his chair, cradling a mug of tea. He wondered what John was doing at Baker Street at this time of night. He was about to ask when he saw his goddaughter playing on the floor.

"Ah."

"She won't go to bed. I've tried everything and she's just not sleeping. I even brought her here hoping she would fall asleep on the way. I'm one second away from calling Molly and asking her for help." John looked tired, unlike Rosie, who looked very amused with her toys and showing no sign of sleepiness.

"Oh… I don't think that's a good idea. Maybe not right now."

"What? What did you do? You said you were going to see her today, please just tell me everything went fine."

"I was nervous!" Sherlock admitted.

"Nervous. You were nervous?"

"Yes, John, I was nervous! I don't think that I've ruined things for good, but I can certainly say that tonight did not go as planned."

"And what were your plans, Sherlock?" John asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Don't look at me like that. Unlike you, I'm not a Lothario. I may have idiotically expected Molly to throw herself into my arms once I finally told her how I really feel, but clearly, that did not happen."

"Sherlock, romance is not like in the telly, you of all people must know that. Molly was never going to do that. She may love you, but she is no fool."

"Molly thought that I was… pretending to feel something for her because I needed a big favour, like when she helped me fake my death," Sherlock said as he rubbed his temples.

"Oh, okay, that's bad."

"I know that, John! But when I convinced her that I wasn't doing such a horrible thing I... got nervous and made things worse." He painfully detailed his misstep in sharing his priorities regarding Molly.

"Sherlock, I don't know how a person so incredibly smart could've fucked up with something so simple. It's almost laughable!"

Sherlock rolled his eyes, feeling like an idiot, but since he knew he wasn't one, he did something very unlike himself: he sought out advice.

"What should I do? You're my best friend, you're the one supposed to help me with romance issues! I can only think of running to her flat and throwing rocks at her window."

John frowned. He really had no idea of how relationships worked. Trash TV had ruined him.

"No, Sherlock. Leave the big romantic gestures for when you're on good terms with Molly. The best you can do right now is to go to sleep and give her space. But don't disappear like the last time."

"Well, that's not what I would have done, so I'll take your advice. You are more than welcome to sleep here tonight, since you have now achieved your goal." Sherlock scooped up and handed John a sleeping Rosie and made his way to his room.

Sherlock Holmes could make a baby fall asleep without trying but couldn't confess his feelings to Molly without getting it wrong. Life had a funny way of sneaking up on him.

In his bed, staring up at the ceiling, he thought about his eventful evening. He had to admit that he was rather worried that he had ruined things for good with Molly. Relax, he repeated to himself. You got nervous and that's why you mixed your words.

He grabbed his phone and texted Molly, one more time.

Good night. S

He waited for an answer, but none came.

Sleep claimed him. How fortunate.

John opened up his eyes to the sound of Rosie cooing. He rolled to the other side of the bed to check his phone, seeing it was already past ten in the morning. Not bad for his day off work.

He took Rosie out of the spare crib he kept at Baker Street and walked to the kitchen. Sherlock was already there, all suited up and sipping on a cuppa. He settled Rosie on the highchair that her godfather had gotten for her and went on to prepare her some breakfast.

John had really considered moving back to Baker Street. Sherlock told him that he and Rosie were more than welcome to do so, but he had his doubts. 221B was a prime location, but his house was closer to his work. Also, he really liked having a place just for him and Rosie. And maybe it was too soon, but John knew he didn't want to spend the rest of his days alone. He hoped that someday, not in the near future but someday, he'd find someone else to love and who'd love him and Rosie back.

"I'm going out," Sherlock said, interrupting John's thoughts. "Lestrade called me on a case that is barely a three but I need a distraction so I'll be back later."

Sherlock had passed the last couple days sulking, and it was starting to get annoying, even for Rosie.

"I guess you don't need me if it's barely a three, then."

"Nope, I really don't. Enjoy your free day with your daughter."

"Can you text me when you're on your way back?" John asked. "I need you to grab some stuff for Rosie."

"Can't you do that yourself?"

"You just said to enjoy my free day."

The detective narrowed his eyes. "Text me what you need." He left the flat at that, leaving John and Rosie alone.

"Rosie, I really need your help in getting your godparents together for good. Will you help me?" She just stared at him in confusion. "I'll take that as a yes." He grabbed his phone from the table and texted Molly.

Hi there, godmother! J

John sent a photo of Rosie playing on the floor with some toys that Molly had gifted her.

She answered within two minutes.

She's gorgeous, John! And she's getting bigger every day, I really miss her! #ProudGodmother Mx

Oh, you should put that on a t-shirt. And I'm sure she misses you too. How are you? How's work? Hope we're not distracting you J

I'm good, thanks for asking! And work has been good too. Don't worry, my shift's ending early today and I'm just sorting some paperwork at the moment. Mx

Glad to know that, we will leave you to it. Hope to see you soon J

He sent her another photo of Rosie and locked his phone, reading her reply of heart emojis on the notification that popped up seconds later.

John wasn't a matchmaker. He had tried setting up two friends back in Uni and it was an absolute disaster, but he was ready to give it a second try.

He spent the day playing and napping with his daughter. Mrs Hudson stopped by sometime in the afternoon to say hello to the little one and brought some lunch. During Rosie's third crash of the day, his phone buzzed with a text from Sherlock.

On my way to Baker St, what did you need? S

It was time to make his move. He scrolled through his contacts until he found the number he was looking for.

"Hello John, what's the matter?"

"Hi Molly, I'm really sorry to bother you, but can you babysit Rosie tonight at Baker Street? Sherlock called me from Scotland Yard. We just got a case, a big one. She's sleeping right now, I don't want to wake her up."

"Oh! Sure! Don't worry, I'm dying to see her. I'll be there in 20."

"Thank you so much, Molly. You're a lifesaver! See you in a bit."

He hung up and checked the five texts Sherlock had sent during the short call.

What did you need?

John?

Are you ignoring me?

Did you lose your phone again?

I'm getting Thai for dinner, just so you know.

The phone call with Molly barely lasted a minute. His impatience was spectacular.

Sorry. Thai is fine by me. Nappies and baby food J

Finally. Baby food? Which one? S

Maybe just bring the nappies actually. J

I'll be home in 20. S

John started picking up his and Rosie's things, getting ready to leave. He had tidied up a bit in the sitting room and the kitchen and changed Rosie into something warmer. The weather was getting chillier and he didn't want to risk her getting sick.

There was a knock on the door before Molly let herself in.

"Hey, Molly. Thanks for coming in such short notice." John hugged her.

"Don't worry, I'm really happy to get to spend time with her." She smiled and grabbed Rosie. He noticed how her eyes searched for signs of certain someone as she rocked her goddaughter.

"Well, let me go get her stuff."

Whilst picking up Rosie's nappy bag, John could hear the creaking of the stairs up to 221B announcing Sherlock's arrival. It was almost incredible how his plan had actually worked out perfectly. He grinned at his cleverness.

Sherlock paid the driver and got out of the cab, carrying a bag of Thai takeaway and Rosie's nappies. He entered the building and climbed the stairs up to his flat, but before opening the door, he caught a peculiar scent.

Shampoo…

Molly?

Yes, that was Molly's brand. What was she doing here? She usually called before dropping by Baker Street and he didn't receive a single call from her.

Maybe she actually wanted to see him. He smiled at the thought and opened the door, only to find her with their goddaughter in her arms.

"Hello, Molly."

"I– Sherlock, hi. I thought you were… Uhh, hello."

He placed the food and the bag of nappies on the coffee table. "You thought that I was…?"

"The case, I thought you were working on a case. John called me to babysit Rosie because you two need to work on it."

"What are you talking about, Molly? I don't have–" Sherlock narrowed his eyes and turned to look at his best friend who was just entering the sitting room with Rosie's nappy bag hanging from his shoulder, a grin planted on his face.

This is starting to make sense, Sherlock thought.

"You do have a case, Sherlock. And you will solve it tonight, right here in your flat," John said.

"Don't be ridiculous. Stop whatever you're doing."

Molly just stood there with Rosie in her arms. She stared at the two men, stunned.

"No, Sherlock. You stop all of this nonsense and get things right for once."

"Can either of you explain to me what's going on? Do I even need to be here? I can take Rosie with me if there's something you two need to do..." Molly said.

"No, Molly, you stay right where you are." John looked at her before turning back to the detective in front of him.

"Solve this. I can't stand another day of you sulking around the flat. Molly, do you like Thai food?"

"Yes?"

"Well, you're off to a good start." John walked towards the pathologist. "Let's make a trade." He picked up the bag of takeaway from the coffee table and held it out to Molly, accepting Rosie in return. "Enjoy your evening!" he said, walking out the door with Rosie in his arms and leaving Sherlock and Molly in the flat, puzzled.

"I must apologize for John's behaviour. I really don't know what got into him."

"Well, I can't believe he actually tried to play matchmaker, but this Thai really does smell good…."

"Don't forget that Rosie was involved too. She's as guilty as her father," Sherlock pointed out, gaining a small laugh from Molly.

"That gorgeous little face was all it took to trick me."

"And I thought you were here to see me…"

"In my defence, John told me that you were at Scotland Yard. I wasn't expecting to see you, though I did want to."

"He wasn't completely lying. I was with Lestrade earlier today. He just lied about the new case. What did you say? You wanted to see me? Why?" Sherlock approached Molly as he questioned her, until he was right in front of her, mere inches separating them. He observed Molly's breathing quicken and noticed her dilated pupils as she looked intensely back at him.

"Let's have dinner, shall we?" Molly looked the other way and made her way to the kitchen table to open the bag.

Sherlock just smiled and followed her to the kitchen, satisfied with the reaction he had received from her.

They ate in peace and he updated her on the rather dull case he had worked on earlier. Apparently, some jewellery had been mysteriously stolen, no evidence found or recorded on security cameras, every employee and ex-employee had been interviewed and nothing was found against them. It took less than a minute for Sherlock to find out that the owner had done it to cash out the insurance. The man thought himself smart, but he really wasn't. On her part, Molly talked about her latest autopsy and explained in full detail the most morbid parts, getting all of Sherlock's attention.

Sherlock was almost done with the dishes when Molly retrieved the courage she needed to address the conversation they had had the last time they had seen each other.

"Um, Sherlock. About the things you said the other night…"

"What things?"

"Sherlock."

He dried his hands with a kitchen cloth with a sigh and asked, "You're going to make me say it all over again, aren't you?"

"Well, yes. The other night didn't end on a good note and I was hoping to make things clear. Also, the fact that you were definitely nervous was almost funny but I'm quite interested in what you said before everything went south."

Sherlock walked to the sitting room, but before he sat on his chair he dragged one of the chairs from his desk and placed it in front of his, inviting Molly to sit down.

God, this is hard, he thought. Having to admit his feelings to the woman sitting right in front of him, not only once but twice. Still, he realized he wasn't scared or nervous as he was before. He just needed to tell her.

Molly looked at him, encouragingly.

"I have feelings for you, Molly. I took me a while to realize it, I know that. I used to think that sentiment and romantic involvements were a waste of time. But I want to be with you, Molly. I want you to be with me and I don't want you to find another silly man and get engaged. I've found that emotion enriches me… and you make me want to be better."

As I've said before, I'm a ridiculous man, countlessly redeemed by the people who surround me, hoping that someday I'll be a good man. I probably won't be the best choice of partner. But I promise you, I'll make it up to you for everything and become the best man for you."

"Sherlock…"

"Please, Molly."

"You already are."

"Excuse me?"

"You already are, Sherlock, a good man. You've always been. You've tried to hide it, behind that cold façade, but you do care, you always have. I won't deny that you're an idiot sometimes, but just look at everything you've done. For God's sake, Sherlock, you even faked your own death to protect your friends! And think about how many people you indirectly helped after dismantling Moriarty's network."

"But will you let me be the best one for you, Molly?"

"Sherlock." She lowered her head and thought for a moment, building up the nerve to say what she truly wanted to. "You've always been the best for me," she whispered.

She felt exposed and relieved at the same time.

"So… take a chance on me, Molly."

He looked deeply into her eyes, waiting for an answer. She felt her cheeks getting hot.

Was she really ready? She had wanted to be with Sherlock since the first moment she saw him at Barts so many years ago, tall and handsome, making her all stuttery and awkward. Still, she couldn't help feeling scared.

"What ifs" were clouding her mind. Was she going to take whatever the man in front of her was offering? But… what was Sherlock offering in the first place? A relationship? Was he really the type for that?

What if he got bored of her? What if he ended up hurting her more? No. She wouldn't let him.

But was she going to take a leap of faith for Sherlock?

Yes, of course she was.

This is it, thought Molly.

She looked at Sherlock's face and she could've sworn that he was dying of anticipation.

"Yes, Sherlock. Let's take a chance." She smiled softly, the detective's face showing relief.

"Not to brag or anything, but I knew you would say that."

"Oh, shut up. I can still change my mind!"

"No, you won't." A satisfied smile painted his face as he leaned forward very gently, making his intentions clear. Molly shivered as she saw Sherlock getting closer, she could feel his hot breath on her face, his scent making her dizzy. She hadn't even noticed that she had started to lean toward him too, the need to be closer to him properly making its appearance.

"May I?" Sherlock whispered.

"Y-yes..."

A phone chimed. Startling both of them, Sherlock straightened himself back on his chair and so did Molly.

"Sorry. Don't mind that, it's just a text."

"Oh, no. Don't worry, you can check it, I don't mind. It might be work."

Sherlock hesitated for a bit, but still took his phone from his left pocket.

How's everything? Have you managed to fix things finally? J

Damn you, Watson, Sherlock thought. Maybe this was payback for all the times he had interrupted him with his conquests.

Everything's fine. Don't text again. S

Sherlock stuffed his phone back into his pocket. "Nothing important, it was just John looking for ways to annoy–"

He couldn't finish as Molly had already lunged towards him, closing the gap between them and silencing him with a kiss. It took Sherlock less than a second to grab her by the waist to draw her deeper into the kiss as Molly ran her fingers through his dark curls, gaining a groan from him when she tugged at his hair.

She pulled away, desperate for air. Her face flushed, she stood up after noticing she was almost straddling Sherlock, sitting there with a smug look on his face.

"I was going for a kiss definitely softer than what we just did, but I'm happy that you had something else in mind."

"Well, that was years of pent up frustration. All your fault."

"I'd be glad to pay you up, for any… inconveniences caused."

"You'd better start soon" She grinned at him and he leaned toward her, but stopped right before he reached her lips to kiss her.

"There's something I need to say first, Molly."

"Can't it wait? I really, really want to kiss you right now."

He chuckled. Impatient little Molly. My Molly, Sherlock thought.

"No, it can't."

She straightened on her chair and looked at him, concern in her eyes. "What's the matter, Sherlock?"

He grabbed her hands and his face softened as he stared directly into her brown eyes. "I love you. I love you, Molly Hooper."

"I love you too, Sherlock. I always have. I love you." A smile painted her face and Sherlock could've sworn she was glowing as he leaned forward to kiss her, softly.

"You may call John now and tell him that his plan worked," Molly said with a small laugh.

"That can wait until tomorrow morning. I have other things in mind right now."

"Would you mind showing me?" A smirk appeared on Molly's face.

"Oh, not at all."

That's how Molly found out that the "7 Times a Night in Baker Street" tabloid story fell short to reality.

And...that's it. The second and final part of this little story. I want to thank you all for taking the time to review and follow this, I really appreciate it! And of course, I'd like to thank the amazing Vermofftiss for all the help and for being the best beta ever!

I hope you enjoy this!