Hello and welcome back! Ok, where did we leave it? Ah, yes…the aftermath, if you will, lol. I wonder how they'll cope in both scenarios…so without further ado please enjoy…xx

Tap-Tap. Tap. Pause. Tap-Tap. Tap. Tap. Pause.

John sighed impatiently and peered over the paper; Sherlock was rhythmically drumming his outstretched fingers on the coffee table, annoying him distinctly. He ground his teeth, squeezing the edges of the paper tightly.

Tap-Tap. Tap. Pause.

"Why don't you just go to Bart's?"

Sherlock looked up to see John's fists gripping tightly to the paper he was trying to read. Sherlock grumbled something about being unsure as to what he meant and continued tapping. John breathed angrily through his nose until Sherlock next spoke.

"Well, we do need to examine some fresh samples Molly may have for us."

John shook his head, his smile effectively hidden behind the newspaper.

"Yeah, I'm sure Molly will have something for 'us'."

He peered past the paper to find Sherlock glaring at him with his eyes narrowed. He shifted into the sitting position and rolled his shoulders, a slight reddening to his cheeks as he replied his annoying friend.

"Shut up."

John chuckled and folded away his paper, following Sherlock's quick steps from the flat. John didn't know what he was expecting when they got to Bart's but it certainly wasn't watching Sherlock march into the lab, spin Molly around and kiss her fiercely. He glanced awkwardly at the floor and rocked on his feet, pretending not to notice; John honestly believed he was standing between two lovelorn teenagers. It was a while before they came up for air, blushing slightly and smiling softly. Sherlock tilted his head and bit his lip thughtfully.

"Mmm…Molly, I was just wondering, when can we have sex again?"

"Oh. My. God…" John buried his face in his hands and Molly giggled, shaking her head. Sherlock's question was genuine and he showed no signs of embarrassment. The pathologist opened her mouth to answer but one glance at the already traumatised John told her to be discreet.

"Hmm…well…maybe we should use…I mean, go to my flat tonight. We'll take it from there, shall we?"

Sherlock nodded eagerly and Molly winked, reluctantly returning to her work. Sherlock was even humming as he moved towards his microscope. John followed him and muttered not quite as inaudibly as he'd have hoped:

"Amazing…who'd have thought all you had to do was get some and then you'd be happy."

Sherlock glared at his friend before shaking his head before peering into the microscope, slipping slides under and humming again. John left the lab to do the coffee run moments later – he hadn't been too sure about leaving them alone, especially since they couldn't seem to be able to keep their hands off of each other. Sure enough, he returned to the sight of Molly perched on Sherlock's lap, both snogging the living daylights out of each other. He cleared his throat and Sherlock pulled away, frowning at John's darkened shirt and his grumpy mood.

"You only have two coffees…"

"Yes, Sherlock…I'm wearing the other one…" he grumbled to himself and removed several tissues to dry himself, ignoring the slapping sound followed by Molly's shocked giggle after jumping down from Sherlock's lap. After a moment, he looked up to Molly urging him to explain and Sherlock dismissing him completely, "…well, I was standing innocently at the machine and for no reason that complete bitch Mary Morstan shoved me and now I'm covered in my coffee."

Molly was shaking her head, grumbling to herself. "Yeah, she is a bitch, she shoves me all the time. I've never even touched her…she just doesn't like me, I don't think."

"It's not even that, I was clearly struggling with the tray and does she hold the door open for me?" Sherlock rolled his eyes and Molly shook her head uncertainly, "no…she walks through and looks back, smiling at me with that…smile…" he shivered and noticed his friends shooting him suspicious glances John frowned, "…what? All I'm saying is, I don't like her…"

"Yes. You have said so."

John flushed red, although he didn't really know why…

"Are we going to Bart's today?"

Sherlock snapped his eyes open to John standing over him, a coffee cup held out for the detective. Sherlock sat up on the sofa, having fallen asleep there; he had been too exhausted to move into his bedroom, despite it being early morning. He accepted the coffee and decided to take his time with the answer, not wanting to arouse suspicion.

"Possibly" John was greeted with an unfamiliar odour as Sherlock sat up; a very feminine odour, indeed. He sniffed around – it seemed to be coming directly from Sherlock himself; the detective frowned and removed his cup from his lips, "what are you doing?"

"Why do you smell…you know…girly?"

The detective paused, taking his time to answer by placing the cup slowly onto the coffee table. Shit. Think of something. Why can't I think of something? His eyes twinkled as he shrugged, clasping his hands under his chin.

"I visited a brothel…" John's eyes widened and his mouth fell open. Sherlock rolled his eyes and got to his feet, "don't be ridiculous. Mrs. Hudson overused the detergent again."

"But, I don't-"

"We had better get ready if we're going to Bart's…"

With that, he hurried into the bathroom for a shower and a fresh set of clothes. John rubbed the back of his neck, blinking in confusion before shrugging and departing to get ready himself. Soon, both were standing in the living room and Sherlock was wringing his hands; John found this odd. He reached for their coats but only found his own on the hook.

"Where's yours?"

Sherlock's eyes widened; he had left it on the floor in Molly's flat. He swallowed and shrugged, claiming Mrs. Hudson was washing it. John nodded, accepting this information and they departed for the Hospital…

It had taken Molly most of the morning to accept what had happened between her and Sherlock was a simple one night stand and would remain so. Let's face it, Sherlock won't want repeat performance. She had showered to remove his sweet smell from her body and brushed her painful hair; she had found many lovebites and small scratches, blushing madly as she dressed hurriedly. She remembered contemplating on the way to work how, despite her embarrassment, she had never felt so satisfied in her entire life – Sherlock's ego was already big enough, so she decided to keep this to herself. It was lunchtime when John and Sherlock decided to show up; Molly had been leaving for the cafeteria when she collided with the detective's very familiar – not to mention very fine – chest. It was strange to think that only hours previously she had been running her hands all over the perfect muscles encased beneath the straining buttons, her lips and teeth following her not-quite-so-delicate fingers pattern. Avoiding his gaze, she departed quickly and hated how her cheeks were glowing red. John folded his arms in confusion, especially when Sherlock moved over to the microscope at record speed without a single word.

"What was that about?"

John wasn't surprised when his question went unanswered, it usually did. He was very confused when he spotted Sherlock's coat on the back of Molly's chair. He decided to wait until she returned to question them both. When Molly finally returned from the cafeteria, carrying a coffee he noticed she and Sherlock were definitely avoiding each other, focusing intently on their work.

"Sherlock, I thought you said Mrs. Hudson was washing your coat…" John took delight in watching Sherlock's eyes widened before he recovered almost immediately. Molly was very intrigued by her coffee cup as Sherlock shook his head.

"No. I said I left it at Bart's…thank you Molly."

The pathologist nodded as he collected his coat, avoiding his gaze until their skin brushed together. Sherlock was smiling softly and Molly returned it awkwardly before bowing her head over her reports. John sighed, not certain as to what he was expecting anyway. They worked in silence for several moments; John narrowed his eyes at the pathologist's subtle uncomfortable squirming, familiar to that of Sherlock's this morning. What are those marks around her neck? John raised his eyebrows as Molly started to massage her chest discreetly, wincing in pain.

"Um…are you ok, Molly?"

She jumped and nodded, blushing immensely; due to the fact he was addressing Molly, John failed to notice how Sherlock seemed to be trying to press himself as hard as he could into the microscope. Molly swallowed, shooting John a fake smile.

"Uh, yeah…they're just- I mean I'm just a bit sore that's all…um…the gym, you know…"

Sherlock couldn't help but release a snort of laughter. Molly bit her lip, mentally cursing the detective for being so…thorough. John had heard it too and was glaring at Sherlock in confusion before turning back to Molly and clearing his throat, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Well…I'd invest in a sports bra, if I were you."

Molly nodded with a smile and subtly frowned at the detective who was struggling to keep his laughter to himself. John was flicking his eyes between the two, frowning when he noticed them shoot lingering glances at the other. John's eyes widened and his mouth dropped to the floor.

"OH MY GOD!" Sherlock released a deep sigh, bracing himself and Molly closed her eyes, biting her lip "…I left my phone upstairs. I hope no one's nicked it, it's expensive."

As he rushed away, Sherlock shook his head and Molly released the breath she didn't know she had been holding. For a moment there…well, this is John we're talking about. They caught each other's eye and smiled awkwardly before turning away; Sherlock, no matter how hard he tried, could only see Molly's beautifully naked body wherever he looked and hear the beautiful sounds she had emitted last night echoing in his head – it wasn't doing much for his concentration not to mention his ignoring her. Molly sighed irritably as she adjusted herself again.

"Bloody hell, Sherlock…were you trying to rip them off or something?"

Sherlock snapped his gaze towards hers, ignoring his burning face as he stared slightly open-mouthed. Molly tried to remain stern when she caught his eye but swallowed and blushed madly. She was surprised when he gave a small smirk.

"Sorry…you didn't seem to complain at the time, though…" Molly opened her mouth to reply but Sherlock cut her off, "…besides, you should consider cutting your nails. I'm surprised you didn't draw blood…and do you have any idea how rough you are?"

Molly bit her lip as he tentatively ran a hand through his curls, wincing slightly. She muttered her own apology and turned her gaze to her reports, losing the battle to keep her smile at bay.

"Me, rough? You nearly gave me bruises on my waist and…other places…" Sherlock smirked and shivered slightly, looking through his microscope as he replied.

"I'm covered in lovebites and lipstick marks." Molly giggled softly and caught his eye, melting immediately at the wink he gave her. They worked in silence for a few short moments before Sherlock groaned in annoyance.

"Can you stop doing that?" Molly only frowned, placing her hands on her hips and Sherlock swallowed, gesturing around him, "…you know, biting your lip like that and smiling. You look too…" he had to forcibly stop himself from saying 'adorable'. Molly simply chuckled and Sherlock groaned again. Did she even listen to me?

"Well…only if you stop scrunching your nose like that. You're so…cute when you do that."

"I don't do that…and I'm not 'cute'."

Molly rolled her eyes and nodded in defeat, ignoring his irritated protests. John bustled back through the doors, happily pocketing his rescued phone and leaning against Sherlock's bench. He was prattling on about someone he met who was 'wonderful and thoughtful and kind and beautiful' named Mary Morstan – in reality, he had only shared names with this woman. He straightened then and fixed Sherlock with a serious look.

"That reminds me…I just had an interesting conversation in the corridor-"

"Busy."

John frowned and folded his arms.

"-with Jase."

Molly, who had moved over to pass Sherlock a sample, proceeded to drop it on the table and her breath caught in her throat. Sherlock's hand slipped from the dials on his microscope, swallowing urgently. Shit…

Sherlock and Molly spent most of their day listening to John complain about Mary. Said paediatrician wandered in around mid-afternoon to…well, for no reason whatsoever, really. She completely ignored the detective and pathologist, choosing instead to engage in a bitter row with John…over the line in the cafeteria.

"If I had known you were waiting there, do you think I'd have pushed in?"

"Uh…yeah!" John was folding his arms rather childishly and Mary was giggling stupidly; only Sherlock and Molly seemed to be able to tell what was really going on…even if John and Mary didn't. Mary sighed deeply, shrugging her shoulders slightly.

"Well, next time you should make it clear…" John scowled, his arms folded tightly to his chest. Molly had grown bored of watching now and was attempting to distract Sherlock by nuzzling his neck.

"Oh, so…standing there, in the queue, blatantly waiting to pay…wasn't clear enough for you?" Sherlock swallowed as Molly softly kissed his cheek, her hand slowly threading his curls through her fingers. Mary smiled devilishly.

"I saw an opportunity…and I took it…if you had been paying attention…"

John's eyes widened, his fists clenching. Sherlock stiffened as Molly reached his ear, whispering softly 'I've finished my reports' in a sing-song voice and fiddling with his shirt. Before either John or Mary could say anything else, Sherlock jumped to his feet and seized Molly's wrist, pulling her from the room without another glance. John blinked and returned to glaring at Mary; she had apparently run out of things to argue with him about so instead turned and flounced from the lab. John gritted his teeth, breathing heavily; he didn't know how long he was left alone thinking about how much Mary annoyed him but when he looked up, Sherlock and Molly were re-entering. They looked incredibly pleased with themselves and their hands were twisted together. Sherlock cleared his throat as Molly returned to her desk, humming a soft tune.

"Ah, John…just some advice: if you wish to use the bathroom, the third cubicle from left has a faulty door hinge."

John grimaced but nodded, wishing he didn't see the cheeky smirk on his flatmate's face. Molly giggled softly and noticed John appeared deep in thought; she tilted her head.

"Are you ok, John? Is it Morstan, again?" Molly bit back her smirk as John scoffed, hugging his chest tightly.

"I don't care about her enough to let her bother me…" Sherlock rolled his eyes, settling back into his microscope studies.

"Do you not see why Dr. Morstan spilled coffee on you? Why she pushed in front of you and why she continues to irritate you?" John thought for a moment before shrugging and Sherlock sighed, shaking his head in defeat, "…then she will continue to do so until you realise."

Neither said anything as John glanced curiously between the two; Sherlock looked as though he didn't have a care in the world – although, he was swallowing more than necessary – and Molly looked rather guilty, bowing her head and wringing her hands. John shook his head and narrowed his eyes.

"Yeah…he said the two of you broke up?" Molly was shaking nervously before giving a hard swallow, meeting John's gaze.

"It…wasn't working out. I sort of…" Molly paused and bit her lip, deciding against total honesty, "…treated him badly and he saw sense."

John frowned and Sherlock flexed his fingers, biting his tongue sharply, "…'treated him badly?' You two were perfect and enjoying yourselves. I can't believe you would ever treat anyone badly, Molly…"

Molly smiled but still couldn't shake the guilt she felt. Sherlock subtly watched her internal struggle before she finally gave up and got to her feet, excusing herself and hurrying away; there was no doubt in Sherlock's mind she had gone to apologise to Jase and hopefully clear the air. Sherlock and John were left in an awkward silence until he cleared his throat, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Um…I've got a date tonight. Mary and I are going to see a movie…I have a good feeling about her." Sherlock nodded, turning the dials on the microscope absently. Molly soon returned and looked very much relaxed and at peace; Sherlock raised his eyes to her suspiciously.

"What did he say?"

The desperation in Sherlock's voice was noted by John who raised his eyebrows. Molly simply shrugged and returned to her desk, delicately tapping her pen against the metal. Sherlock bit his lip, attempting to concentrate on his studies. He soon gave up and announced he was getting coffee, shocking the other inhabitants of the lab. It was at the coffee machine he encountered a calm looking Jase.

"Ah…hello, Sherlock…" the detective frowned, glancing behind him and nodding slightly.

"Jase. I trust Molly talked-"

"Yeah, we're cool. I understand there's something special between the two of you…I'm not going to be the one to come between that."

Sherlock sighed deeply and shook his head, speaking in a lower voice, "…actually, I believe Molly intends it to remain a one night stand. I…do not know how to feel about that."

Jase, surprisingly, reached out to pat Sherlock's shoulder reassuringly; the detective stiffened at the gesture, "look, Molly has had a thing for you for ages. There is nothing she wants more than you. Do the right thing."

He winked and departed, hoping for Molly's sake that Sherlock will step up to a relationship with the pathologist.

They had been about to leave Bart's for the day when Mary decided it was time for round 112 with John; Sherlock and Molly silently decided this one they'd have to figure out themselves. Molly watched Mary intently, noticing how the paediatrician seemed to be fiddling with her hair more than necessary. Sherlock noticed how his friend couldn't take his eyes off of her, no matter how much he tried to; Sherlock would also be willing to bet he couldn't stop thinking about her either. He felt something dig into his ribs and glanced down; Molly leaned to whisper into his ear.

"Maybe we should do something…" Sherlock glanced over at them again; their voices had been raised and they were arguing about nothing in particular.

"I have just the thing…"

Sherlock strolled over to the small cupboard at the back of the morgue, opening the door and stepping inside; Molly watched in confusion as he fiddled with the light before sighing irritably.

"Damn it…" he attempted to shove the light switch but it didn't budge; John and Mary stopped their intense discussion and peered over at the large amount of noise coming from the back of the room. John rolled his sleeves, stepping forwards.

"Allow me…" Sherlock stepped aside and John approached the bulb, scratching his head in confusion. After a few moments, Mary huffed and shoved Sherlock aside grumbling to herself.

"Let me do it…men!"

Sherlock shot Molly a devious wink before slamming the door closed on the couple and turning the lock. Molly's eyes widened as John and Mary shouted abuse from inside the cupboard.

"They can't see!" Sherlock shook his head, flicking on the light switch and clearing his throat.

"I unscrewed the bulb and John retightened it. He forgot the switch was on the outside of the cupboard." Molly gaped, fiddling with her hands and her face betraying how impressed she was.

"They can't get out!"

"That's the idea," Molly folded her arms and Sherlock sighed, lowering his voice to a whisper, "I left the key on the shelf; it would only take them several minutes to find it. If they are still in there by morning, I should consider becoming a matchmaker."

Molly giggled as she pulled him from the lab, bickering with him about whose flat to go to for the evening.

Molly looked up from her reports; it was now dark and she was on her own. Sherlock had been gone an awfully long time for just getting coffee and John had left for his date with Mary. She rolled her shoulders and got to her feet, stretching her tired muscles and yawning. Her stuff was gathered and she ready to leave, eager for a nice hot shower to wash away the stress of the day. She finished pulling on her coat and span around, almost jumping out of her skin when she saw Sherlock blocking the door, his usual cold stare present. He cleared his throat.

"Here," he thrust forward a bouquet of beautiful flowers and Molly blinked, accepting them with a small 'thank you'. She didn't have to ask what it was about though for he explained himself, shifting awkwardly on his heels, "I hope we can move past the images of our sexual encounter and still be friends. I don't want it to be awkward between us."

Molly smiled softly and extended her hand, relief flooding through her; she was glad he had said exactly what she was thinking.

"Friends." Sherlock took her hand and shook it gently, locking eyes with her and swallowing at the way she chewed her lip. He glanced down at their still clasped hands and opened his mouth, a smirk very slight.

"Your place or mine?" Molly's heart leapt and she, too, smirked.

"John has a date." Sherlock licked his lips quickly and gave a wink, leaning forwards slightly.

"Mine it is, then."

Ooh…well, there you go, lol :D I hope you enjoyed this chapter and sorry to have kept you waiting ;) Please let me know what you thought, it keeps me going :) xx Stay tuned, back soon xx