Little Darcy's, my brain is burnt out. I took part in Nanowrimo (national novel writing month) and 50,000 words later here I am. I'm feeling like all my writing is trash, my heart is too broken from series 9 to write Doctor Who fics and lord only knows how this will turn out. So please bear with me and I own nothing.

Chapter one: Cheater face

"So then, I thought it was a common merganser but it actually turned out to be a red breasted merganser, can you believe that?"

"Um.. no way! That's.. that's crazy."

"I know right!? Like anyone could mix those two up."

Molly faked a laugh along with her date, internally yawning. It hadn't been a bad evening, Jeff from HR was sweet in a clumsy sort of way and he'd been a complete gentleman. So much so that his polite dinner conversation seemed to be restricted solely to birds and work. Not for the first time, she wondered if perhaps it was her that made the situation wrong. Perhaps she wasn't normal, and regular people discussed birds over Chianti all the time.

"But the really interesting thing is that it's not their normal mating season-"

"Molly Hooper how dare you?!"

Part of her was jumping for joy at the interruption. Molly had no doubt if the evening had continued, she would end up face first in her soup. The other part of her groaned loudly. Trust Sherlock Holmes to hunt her down on her first date in six months. She tried to smile though it came out more like a grimace and looked up into the stormy face of London's own consulting detective.

"Hello Sherlock. I'm a bit busy-"

"I can see that. Who in the blazes is this? No let me guess, a pitiful attempt at romance? Molly he doesn't even have enough decency to-"

"Sorry, Molly who's this?" Jeff interrupted. She shook her head, not oblivious to the stares that were beginning to accompany the situation.

"He's a.. a friend of mine-"

"A friend? I catch you cheating and you have the nerve to call me a friend?"

Her mind shorted out just then. She could hear Jeff sputtering and Sherlock snarling in answer but her confusion only deepend. What did he mean cheating? On who?

"Molly!"

Both men barking at her brought Molly from her ruminations and back into the line of fire.

"Sorry, I- I'm afraid it's all a bit mixed up."

"Look you're nice and all but I don't get involved with people in relationships-"

"Oh please, you're one to talk." His tone was full of disgust and he didn't so much as step back when Jeff rose from his chair.

"And what's that supposed to mean mate? Huh? I suggest-"

"There's a tan line where your wedding ring would normally sit,paired with the rumpled shirt suggests you're sleeping on a friend's couch which means you've been kicked out of your flat. Probably for cheating. And it was done recently because you've got a healing cut just under your jaw.

If the cut is healing than it was done recently. Since there's only the one, with no scarring, it's not a mistake you commonly make. You had to leave your flat in a hurry and as such are using an unfamiliar, borrowed razor. Add to that the corner of paper sticking out of your suit jacket, if one looks closely you can see an area code and judging on the way that waitress on the left is eyeing you, it's her phone number. So do yourself a favor, pay for the meal and leave Miss Hooper alone."

Based on the way he colored, it was obvious to Molly that Sherlock hit the nail on the head. But then, Sherlock was never wrong. It didn't stop her anger at them both though.

"You're unbelievable! Jeff, don't call me and don't expect a second date. Sherlock you- oooh!"

Unable to say anything more she snatched up her coat and purse and stomped out. She could hear Sherlock calling for her but tried to ignore it, hailing down a cab and groaning when his long legged stride let him catch up to her.

"Sherlock don't. I have no desire to-"

"Molly I demand answers. Perhaps we're ending our relationship but-"

"What are you talking about?! What relationship?! Do you mean our friendship? Because that certainly may end after the stunt you just pulled!"
"What would you expect after I caught you cheating?"

"Cheat- Sherlock you're not making any sense and I don't have foggiest idea what you're going on about!"

He blinked once, twice, processing this information. It was then she began to piece together what he was telling her.

"Sherlock-"

"Don't." He turned away, facing the window and pointedly ignoring her.

"No, you don't. Don't shut me out. Did.. Do. Do you think we're dating?"

"I don't need your pity Molly Hooper, not from someone so.. so dense and woefully uninteresting with a terrible taste in men!"

It was her turn to ignore him, Sherlock always resorted to insults when he was feeling frustrated or insecure.

"If you think you're dating than what does that say about you? Hmm? Now please tell me what's going on."

He stayed quiet, long enough that she assumed he had gone into his mind palace. This proved not to be the case when they pulled up to her flat and he got out right along side her.

"So I guess you're coming in then."
"Brilliant as always."

"Do us both a favor and shut up for now Sherlock."

For once, the stubborn detective did as told. They made their way up to her flat and she gestured towards the couch as she took off her coat.

"These shoes hurt my feet and I could use a good cuppa. Put the kettle on."

Feeling oddly empowered by his obediently heading towards the kitchen, she went to her bedroom and changed into a her favorite pair of pajamas, the fuzzy ones with skulls and anatomically correct hearts on them. Toby meowed, curling around her ankles before trotting out to the living room, leaving her alone to collect her thoughts.

It seemed she was in quite the quandary. For years, Molly had been besotted by Sherlock Holmes. His mind, his passion for his work, his deductions were all fascinating. What's more, he never minded discussing her morgue work, in fact he encouraged it. They'd spent many an hour in companionable silence since The Fall, she working on a body and he doing his experiments.

Since his returning from his self imposed absence, she felt a softening about him. Suddenly he smiled every now and then instead of sneering. He actually ate. He made friends with Mary Watson, writing a tear-jerking best man speech. Basically, his heart seemed to be thawing. She'd even dared to think he enjoyed their time together. They'd had dinner, discussing a few of his cases late into the night. He'd come over to bounce ideas off her, once even bringing a care package when she had the flu (though he insisted it was to hurry her recovery so that he might enjoy free reign in the morgue once again).

She'd grown comfortable with this friendship. And now… well now it was something entirely different.

Gathering her courage, she went out to the living room, sitting down and accepting a mug of tea from Sherlock.. She took a sip, pleased to find he'd added in four sugars and two creams just how she liked it. Of course.

"Would you like to sit?"

He did, keeping a careful distance between them while she tucked her feet under her. Cosy and fortified by the tea, she nodded at him.

"Now suppose you tell me how long you've been my boyfriend."