Not Dead.

I know it's been ages, but school was brutal this spring, and filled up all my writing time. But better late than never, right? Anyway, I figured a follow-up to the previous chapter was the best way to come back from my hiatus, and since I do spend a lot of time at flower shows I had to murder a gardener...

Enjoy!

"Are you sure you don't want to take the day off?" John asked as he followed Sherlock through the crowd. "Lestrade said he has it covered."

"He has been wrong before, and I want a case," Sherlock replied.

"You just solved a pretty big one, getting some rest might be a good idea..."

"I don't need rest, I need a case!" Sherlock snapped at him.

"...and help with that," John muttered under his breath. "Well, I guess it's not every day that someone gets murdered at a flower show."

"You'd be surprised..." Sherlock replied, unimpressed by the colourful displays around him.

"What was that?"

"Nothing," Sherlock lifted up the police tape and entered the white tent, but stopped in his tracks as soon as he saw the body or rather who was examining it.

"Molly," he whispered.

"Sherlock," Lestrade greeted the Detective. "What are you doing here?"

"I wanted to offer my help, but I see that you have it covered."

"As I already told you on the phone. Henry Bug, 53 year old male, he was stabbed by his opponent in the show garden competition, the price was a a golden shovel – also the murder weapon."

"That's great," Sherlock replied absentmindedly.

"I think the victim would disagree," Lestrade said, but Sherlock didn't listen as he was too busy staring at the pathologist – the pathologist who had yet to notice his presence. She was, in fact, so involved in her work, that she also didn't notice how the shelf under which the body had been found, had been damaged in the struggle, and was about to give in under the weight of the potted plants on it. At least not until someone pulled her away, right before the heavy terracotta pots came crashing down…

"Thank you," Molly's eyes grew wide as she realized who had saved her. It had been three weeks since he showed up at her flat in the middle of the night, three weeks since they had agreed to part as friends, and three weeks since they had broken that agreement. Three weeks since she had kissed him goodbye...

"How are you?" She asked.

"Still here."

"I can see that," she replied and their eyes met for a second before John interrupted the scene.

"Jesus, are you ok?"

"Yes, just a little shaken up. Thanks to Sherlock," Molly replied.

"Oh no," Lestrade sighed as he realized that while Molly had been spared, Mr. Bug hadn't been so lucky.

"Look at the bright side, you don't have to burry him anymore," Sherlock joked, earning scolding looks from John and Lestrade.

"Too soon?"

"Definitely," John replied, and Sherlock just nodded before he turned back to Molly.

"I'm sorry."

"It's ok, you were busy," Molly replied with a nervous smile.

"What are you apologizing for?" Lestrade asked.

"That's none of your business. Come on John we're leaving. It was good to see you Molly," with that Sherlock turned around on his heel, leaving before Molly got a chance to respond.

"Did I miss something?" John asked as soon as they were outside.

"I slept with Molly," Sherlock replied, nervously fidgeting with his phone, wishing that it would turn into a cigarette.

"I'm sure she.. wait what?" John stopped, much to Sherlock's annoyance.

"That's why I wanted to come here," he pulled John away from the path. "I needed time to figure out what to do. A nice simple case, no need for research, avoid the lab for a few days. But of course she had to be here…"

"You slept with Molly?" John repeated, a look of disbelieve on his face.

"Yes, do keep up John."

"You slept with Molly," John still tried to comprehend what was going on. "When?"

"The night before I was supposed to leave. And before you ask, we didn't get drunk."

"Wow... Mary's gonna love this."

"Do you have actual advice, or are you just gonna stand there with your mouth open?"

"You slept with Molly, and you want my advice?"

Sherlock sighed. "I don't do relationships, that's your area."

"So you want a relationship with her? An actual relationship?"

"For god's sake..." Sherlock was getting impatient. "I can't just pretend that nothing happened, nor do I want to."

"Well, for starters I'd tell her what you just told me, and then you'll take it from there.

Even though she felt bad for the poor Mr. Bug, Molly was grateful for the extra work. The more time she spend working, the less time she had to spend on trying to figure out what was going on in the head of a certain Consulting Detective. Convinced that he had left by the time she was done, she threw on her coat and stepped out of the tent, the evening sun blinding her for a moment.

"I thought you'd never come out of there," Sherlock suddenly appeared by her side.

"You're still here, then," she stated, and Sherlock knew that she wasn't just talking about the flower show.

"Yes."

"And you're staying?"

"Yes again."

"Oh..." she nodded.

"I thought you'd be happier about that..."

"I am, it's just…" she tried to find the right words. "I know that what happened happened because you were leaving. But you came back, and I understand that that changes…" before she could finish the sentence Sherlock grabbed her arm and pulled her into a garden house, slamming the door shut behind them.

"What are you doing?" Molly asked as Sherlock leaned in to kiss her.

"John told me to tell you how I feel, but talking about feelings has never been my forte," he explained, his lips grazing hers.

"How about you show me then?"It was a challenge.

"Mine or yours?" he whispered, sending shivers down her spine, before he finally closed the distance between them, rendering his question irrelevant.

He lifted her up, to put her down on the upholstered bench that framed the tight space. Molly moaned in response, and scooted back on the seat, giving him better access...

A brilliant idea, she decided as she felt his teeth grazing the sensitive skin on her neck, after his lips had wandered over her jawline.

"Sherlock..." not having relinquished all her sense of rationality yet, Molly tried to remind him of their current – very public – location.

"Don't worry," his right hand slid up under her thin jumper making her arch beneath him. "They're about to close," he shifted slightly, making her all too aware of the fact that she wasn't the only one enjoying this. "We just have to be quiet until the..."

He was interrupted by a knock on the door. "I don't want to disturb you," John started. "But you are aware that this thing has windows, right?"

Sherlock lifted his head, the smile on his lips equally apologetic and mischievous, "Point made?"

"Point made," Molly smiled, as he stood up, pulling her up with him.

Sherlock helped her into her coat, that she could not even remember taking off, and opened the door for her.

"So you worked it out then?" John greeted them.

"Something like that," Sherlock plucked a rose from one of the bushes in the garden and offered it to Molly.

"Those are for show you can't do that!"

"Don't worry, if Mycroft tries to exile me again, I'm taking you with me."

"You better!" She quickly took the rose and hid it behind her back, while John just shook his head. This was going to be interesting.

This turned out a lot fluffier (and sexier) than intended, but what can I say, I just couldn't stop them. Reviews are greatly appreciated (especially because it's my birthday on tuesday), and feel free to leave prompts, I'm always looking for inspiration.

Love, Laura