A/N: So after the endless emotional roller coaster and heart wrenching journey that is Sherlock and Molly in the new series of Sherlock, I have finally settled (somewhat) and have begun writing again. Here is a one-shot, because I needed it. This one-shot is based on The Sign ofThree and references the new series in general. Do not read this if you don't want spoilers.

Type

She had caught him by surprise. He had expected to be alone this evening. Everyone had expected him to be alone this evening, even that bridesmaid, Janine. He had barely taken his coat off when he heard the sounds of a taxi driving up to 221B. He peered out of the window but was just a millisecond too late to see who'd stepped out of the cab.

So when Molly walked quietly up the stairs and peered at him through the doorway of his living room, the detective, who could predict his way through life, was caught by surprise.

"Molly?" he asked, quietly.
"Hello," she said, just as quietly. Her smile was always so lovely.

Sherlock could feel his muscles twitch. This was awkward - or was it? Why did it feel so strange around Molly now? When did the air become so thick?

"So, I see you left early…" Molly began, walking up to him.
"Yes…" Sherlock answered, "And so have you, it seems. What about Tom?"
"What about him?" she answered swiftly, a small smile playing on her lips.
"He's your…date, I mean…your fiancé…isn't he? So why isn't he with you?" Sherlock said, internally appalled at his lack of coherence.

"I left him on the dance floor, Sherlock." Molly answered. Her eyes sparkled and if Sherlock had previously confessed to being unaware of the beautiful, Molly was now teaching him how to be.

"Oh? What did you say?" asked Sherlock.
"I said I was tired." Molly said, biting her lip to prevent a mischievous smile. "But I said that he should stay on. Have fun."
"Why…would you do that?" Sherlock asked, frowning and puzzled.
"Oh, I just…didn't want to be with him for a while…"
"Why? Turned into a sociopath on the dance floor?" Sherlock remarked with a trace of sarcasm.
"No, Sherlock," Molly replied with a soft laugh, "Still not a sociopath."
"Then why are you here? Why aren't you dancing away with your…still-not-a-sociopath beau?" Sherlock's words came out hard and fast.

"Oh, Sherlock," Molly whispered, shaking her head. She was smiling to herself and began to remove the yellow hairpiece from her up-do. When it was all off, she shook her beautiful tresses down as they cascaded around her shoulders.

She walked up to Sherlock and slowly slipped her arms around him, placing the side of her face against his chest. She heard the thumping of his heart. Everyone called him a machine, but only Molly knew that this machine, this particular machine, did have a heart.

"Why…are you here?" Sherlock asked her again. His hand could not resist lifting to touch her hair, holding her head against his chest.

"Because you're here…"
"But…Tom?"
"Still not a sociopath…"
"Well, yes…and therefore…."
"And therefore, Sherlock…."

Molly looked up at him and her hand reached to gently touch the face she had always known and cherished.

"Not…my….type…." she whispered, before tip-toeing to kiss him slowly.

End