Part two Y'all! Thanks for all the favs, followers, and reviews! You are all so awesome! This part get's a tiny bit angsty (but not too bad.)

Thanks once again to MizJoely beta extraordinaire. (I'll spare you the corny Journey references this time... don't get used to it.)

I own nothing.. enjoy!

Sherlock stood in the hallway outside the break room the next night. He was wearing, as always, an impeccable suit and his trademark coat. If he ever needed his armor, it was this night, even if it was a sticky midsummer evening.

He knew she was in there, he had heard her curse when she dropped the sugar. Almost a full day of sleep had righted the consulting detective, he was back to his old self. Now... now he had to face the music, as they say. He had to go talk to Molly. He had to explain his behavior and why he said... what he had said.

He hadn't been this nervous since the Watson's wedding.

He heard her start to walk out so he moved into a doorway, obscuring himself from Molly's vision. When she came out of the room she took his breath away.

Jeans? Why is she wearing jeans? As she walked down the corridor, no lab coat present- just jeans and a slim fitting tee-shirt, Sherlock's head spun. She passed by a window making her appear to glow- she looked golden in the moonlight, if for only a moment. Sherlock closed his eyes and shook his head, such fanciful thoughts wouldn't help his current predicament, or perhaps they would, he thought. He took a deep breath to composed himself before following her into her office.

He found her standing in front of her desk looking over an autopsy report. "Molly," he said.

Molly screamed and stumbled backwards. He reached out and caught her arm as she righted herself on her desk. "What the... Sherlock where the hell did you come from?" she said with a hand over her heart.

"Why are you wearing jeans?" he asked, ignoring answering her question.

She took a deep breath. "It's my day off Sherlock, I just came in to do some paperwork and check on your tox screen."

Of course, her day off, he thought. "Thank you for that Molly."

She gave him an odd look and started to move to her laptop, presumably to check for the results, but he stopped her. "Molly, about yesterday..."

"Did John tell you... about what you said?" she said not looking up. "It's okay, you were..."

"Not exactly," he cut her off, then paused to consider his words. "I ah, remember... everything."

She looked up. "Oh."

He watched her cheeks turn pink. "Yes, it seems our criminals didn't do their research. I have a much higher tolerance for sedatives than the average human." He gave her an apologetic smile. "Ah, I um may have been a bit more aware of what I was doing- saying, than I let on."

"You weren't high?" she asked.

Sherlock narrowed his eyes and licked his lips. This is going to end in bloodshed... how many slaps this time, I wonder. "I wouldn't say that, I was feeling pretty good," he said with a very small laugh. "But, um... if your question is; did I know what I was saying? Well, yes- I'd have to say... yes, I-I did."

Molly stared at him, mouth agape. Finally she managed, "I d-don't understand. Why would you do that? That's... that's cruel, even for you that's just cruel Sherlock." He tried to speak but she continued. "I mean after everything I've done, everything I risked for you and you decide to take the piss because you can blame it on being drugged." She stepped further away (as much as she could in the small space.) "And now? Now you've come to clear your conscience? It would have been kinder to have kept your little act to yourself, you know."

Sherlock stepped closer to her. "Not an act." He huffed and raked his hands through his hair. "I- I was feeling quite relaxed, but not to the point that I couldn't completely control myself. Although, my articulation was admittedly... lacking." He once again paused and considered how to phrase his next statement. "Molly, I... you got over me. You moved on."

She furrowed her brow and shrugged her shoulders. "Yeah, so? What does that have to do with anything?"

"I..." He closed his eyes. "Damn it, I wish I was still high." When he opened them he saw the look on Molly's face. "No I don't mean... I don't- I don't want you to move on. I want," he paused and made a questioning face, "things."

She shook her head. "No, no you can't be saying... What are you saying?"

"This is very difficult for me. This conversation makes my best man's speech look like a day at home playing with a pancreas. At least I had note cards for the speech," he mumbled.

"Sherlock, just tell me what your trying to say."

He looked at her and saw that she was confused and hurt and on the verge of physical violence. Perhaps this time she'll punch me, he thought. He had to get to the point, and quickly. "I've wanted to expand the parameters of our relationship for some time now. I want more, I want... you, Molly." Her eyes grew even bigger than they normally were and the blush that was once confined to her cheeks, started to spread to her neck and chest. "Last night I took advantage of my slightly relaxed state, to relieve myself of the burden of my feelings- not that my feelings are a burden," he added quickly, grateful that he beat her to the punch on that one. "However keeping them to myself... has been, difficult to say the least. I knew what I was saying, and I meant every word. Every sappy, romantic word." Having finally finished he felt a mixture of anticipation, relief and terror. If he were honest, he was a tiny bit nauseated, as well. He told himself that was because of the drugs.

Molly looked down at the floor, seeming to process his words. She shook her head and glanced back to the detective then back to the floor. She was mouthing some words, he wondered if she was replaying the evening. He stood back and let her take her time to consider everything. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, she spoke.

"You have feelings for me?" she asked. "And couldn't tell me until you were high as a kite." He made a face. "Sorry, relaxed," she said, arms folded around her middle protectively.

He felt shame wash over him like a tidal wave. "I understand that this is not the best case scenario." He forced a laugh. "Maybe not the story we tell the grandkids?"

"You're serious about this."

He swallowed. "Yes, I am. But you've moved on and I know I should have told you a long time ago, so I understand if you..."

She was suddenly standing right in front of him. "I wish you hadn't been stoned. I wish you could have just been honest with me. I wish you had told me when, wait... a long time ago. How long?"

"Before Christmas, before Jim, I..." He looked down at his hands. He couldn't remember ever feeling this unsure of himself, it was maddening. "I- I think... always."

"You're an arse!" she spit out. "And if you were within your own mind why the hell did you bring up him?"

"I was still me Molly, I always say the wrong thing. Every time... always, remember?" He took a breath. "You're right, I'm an arse, and I deserve your ire, but..."

Molly fisted her hands at her sides and extended herself as tall as her tiny frame would allow. "But what? I'm just supposed to fall down at your feet because a night of stoned ramblings? I've done things for you, illegal things, immoral things. I believed in you when everyone else gave up! I- I never stopped caring for you, loving you and you pretended you didn't care for... years!"

"You never stopped, still haven't stopped?"

She folded her arms across her chest and turned away. "Of course not you great buffoon!"

He gave her a few moments for her anger to fade before speaking. "Molly, if I promise not to keep anything from you ever again, would you be willing... I mean could we perhaps try? I'm not saying I have any idea what I'm doing, but I know how I feel." Just say it you coward, his mind screamed at him. "I love you."

Molly slowly turned and looked at him with unshed tears in her eyes. "You don't play fair Sherlock. That is not playing fair."

"It's the truth, for once, the way I actually feel about you. You'll never just be my friend or pathologist. I need you, I've always needed you Molly. I had thought in time it would... while I was gone," he stammered, struggling once again. "But the memories never fade away, they torment me. What's worse are the memories we could've had if I'd been stronger, if I'd been better."

Molly was crying now, tears falling freely down her beautiful face. She nodded her head. "Don't break me Sherlock. If we do this you have to remember this moment and remember that I'm taking a huge chance with my heart here."

"Is that a yes?" he asked with a hopeful smile on his face.

She rolled her eyes. "I must be completely insane." Molly reached up and pulled him down until their lips met. When they broke Molly smiled at the shock on Sherlock's face.

"You're good at that," he said.

Molly chuckled. "Of course I'm good at that. I'm good at other things too. Come on," she said picking up her bag and pulling him by his arm. "I'm taking you home... with me. Not that you deserve it, but we have some memories to make, might as well get started."

Thanks for reading... final thoughts?