I do not own Sherlock, nor the characters. Just the plot and the story idea. If anyone wants to take this and change it up or add on to it please let me know so I can read it. Lot's of love, Apprentice08

The skies over London were a fading palette of colors, with every passing moment they shifted on the spectrum of hues and shades. A blanket of dim sapphire was enveloping the east as the west still held traces of the sun's fiery nature. A mash of golden yellows, autumn oranges and rusty reds continued to follow the sun down to the horizon, eventually melding and bleeding into a masterful purple. The remaining soft yellow glow resembling that of a fallen star, way off and hidden in the distance.

Two men and a woman strode forward into the dusky night as twilight sparkled off the tall buildings, wrapped in their trappings of glass and metal. The tallest of the three walked with his hands wedged in the pockets of the belstaff he wore, a blue scarf adorning his neck but pulled tight to fight the chill in the air. His two companions were also bundled tightly, though, they braved the cold enough to clasp gloved hands and swing their connected arms mildly.

They chatted animatedly for a few blocks before they came to a stop to allow traffic to smoothly flow by, the the tallest coming to stop just behind the shorter two and leaning down to say something in a hushed voice.

Finally, as they hurried across the street to the other side, the conversation seemed to take a turn for the worse and the shorter of the two men barked at his messy haired companion, "No, Sherlock I told you, this is mandatory, no skips."

Rolling cold blue eyes in frustration the taller man gave a humph and snapped back, "Why are we even doing this? I don't see why we couldn't just have Molly meet us at Baker street."

"It's her birthday Sherlock, and lord knows after everything that woman has done for you the least you could do is come with us when we take her to dinner."

Mary, the shortest of the three, had a smile melt across her face as she peaked out from under the knit hat and glanced to the pale man lagging behind them.

"But, I took her on a day of crime solving, I offered to take her for fish and chips-"

"No, you are not going back to Baker street, you're going to sit through this with the rest of us and be a good friend."

"I still don't see why-"

"Because Molly's flat is closer to the restaurant, and if we had had everyone meet at Baker street you'd have tried to get everyone to stay in and play cluedo or help you with your experiments."

"Molly wouldn't mind, she helps me all the time when I'm at Bart's."

"Okay, your turn Mary-" he said breathlessly to his wife who had been rather poor at hiding her mirth, she could see her husband's patience wearing thin so it was time to nip Sherlock's protests in the butt.

"Sherlock, shut up. You're going and you're going to be gracious and you're going to behave or-"

"Or what?" he asked as he looked at her with indignation.

"Or I'll take all your hidden fags and flush them down the toilet." came her challenging reply.

Silence met the ears of the couple as Sherlock calculated the chances of her knowing every possible location that he could have hidden his smokes.

"Inside your skull, behind the periodic poster, strapped to the bottom of the table, inside the toaster, inside the oven, under the-"

"Alright!" he barked quickly looking to John. He wondered how many of those places his friend had managed to catalogue, "For god's sake-" The brunette continued to murmur as he snapped his coat closer and then pulled his blue scarf tighter, "Let's just get Molly shall we?"

It was John's turn to snicker as her looked to his wife and mouthed the words, 'thank you' while she nodded back and looped her free arm through Sherlock's, whispering to him conspiratorially she smiled at Sherlock softly, "Sorry love, but you really do need to be here. I promise, if it get's too monotonous, I'll play 'deduce-the-waiters' with you."

Sherlock smirked and pulled Mary close giving her a peck on the fluff of her cap, "Cheers." he murmured as they finally arrived at the entryway to Molly's block of flats.

Sherlock held the door as John and Mary bustled in, they paused long enough for Sherlock to take the lead and guide them up the three flights to Molly's hall. The married couple had been chatting in hushed tones, making harmless jokes about the best ways to get Sherlock to behave once they got to the restaurant when the man himself held up a hand.

John halted at the sign from his friend, years of learning to read the man without need for words had left him rather in tune with Sherlock's movements. Mary, noticing her husband had honed in on Sherlock stopped her chatter too and then looked to where Sherlock's eyes bore down the hall.

She could only assume it was Molly's door, which was cracked open about an inch, the deadbolt having got in the way. Low voices could be heard emitting from the room and the three slowly approached.

Molly's voice finally came through and rose above the naturally occurring din of the old apartment building as they grew closer.

"You are being unfair-"

"Oh, I'm being unfair? That's rich-"

"Tom, please-"

Mary brought her knuckle up to her mouth and gave John a worried look, John glanced at her and then to Sherlock motioning for the man to knock, but Sherlock held up a hand for them to wait and leaned in closer to the crack in the door.

"Why can't you just give me a second chance Molly, you know I can make you happy."

"You know why, we've had this discussion-"

"Because of him? That god-damned arse-hole, the god of all crime solving, bloody Sherlock Holmes!"

"It's not just because of him!" Molly's voice was slowly raising and even though the trio knew that eavesdropping was wrong they were too far into it now, afoot in the door, trapped and with no room to turn around.

"You're lying to yourself now? You love the wanker and refuse to give it up. Face the facts Molly, HE DOESN'T LOVE YOU! HE ISN'T INTERESTED! He doesn't WANT you! The sod probably doesn't even like woman anyway- "

"Why do you have to be so mean-" came Molly's soft hollow voice, "Molly, please I'm sorry, it's just frustrating is all. I love you, I am devoted to you. I could make you so happy, give you anything you wanted, but all you can think about is the damn sociopath of Bart's hospital."

"He isn't a sociopath."

"Oh come off it! The man is nuts!"

"Stop it! Just stop it! I can't marry you when I am in love with someone else! I tried-"

"Try harder!" Tom pleaded as he seemingly crossed to her, his footsteps were muffled and John noticed Sherlock's posture tense, albeit ever so slightly.

After a moment of silence Tom spoke again, "Let's leave-"

"What?" Molly sounded like she had been side swiped and most likely she had.

"We could elope, get you out of here, away from Sherlock and Bart's and this city. We could go anywhere you want, the further away you get from him the easier it will be and then one day, one day you will wake up and Sherlock Holmes will be nothing but a fading memory-"

"Tom-" came Molly's resolute voice, "I've been trying to fall out of love with Sherlock Holmes for seven years. I've tried everything, ignoring him, going on holiday, dating other people, trying to be his friend, give him space, therapy-"

"You went to therapy over him?"

Mary looked to John whose face had screwed up in surprise as well as disbelief, neither could see Sherlock's response as his back was still to them, but he continued to listen intently, leaning in his ear almost at the crack.

"I've literally tried everything, do you know how frustrated, how tired I am- how much this hurts. If I go away I'll still love him, I'll just do it from afar, if I stay, at least I can be useful-"

"More like used." Tom bit out with bitter contempt.

"Whether I am useful or used I help solve murders, I bring peace to the loved ones who suffer-"

"You're not an angel Molly, you are the bringing of death. You don't save lives, you don't heal the sick, you cut open dead people and figure out what cruel irony killed them. And you will never be anything to that man but a means to an end."

"I'm his friend, Sherlock Holmes is a good man-"

"Jesus, you're just as twisted as the rest of them. The ex-soldier and his manipulative wife, the sociopath with the druggy land lady and the DI handler who drags you all in-"

"Tom!"

"No, forget it Molly, you can't be normal, I was a fool for trying to make you into something you're not. You can't handle boring, so this boring is walking out the door and taking all my BORING love with me. You want to be a freak with the rest of um, be my guest, but I am out of here. Enjoy being morbid Molly for the rest of your life."

And just like that, the spell was broken as Tom's rather hard footfalls approached the door, Sherlock instantly stood straight and John and Mary looked around for someplace to hide. They had no chance of course, for as they went to head back down the stairs Tom flung the door back revealing all three, "Oh god!" came Molly's dread filled voice.

The look of anger on Tom's face faltered a moment before his eyes narrowed, "Some family Molly, they even eavesdrop, perfectly normal." Tom didn't wait but shoved passed Sherlock and moved passed John as the sandy blonde slid protectively in front of his wife and gave the younger man a very hard look.

Mid-way down Tom turned and glared back at Sherlock, the man in question stood poised as ever, his arms clasped tightly behind his back, his own narrowed glare focused solely on Tom, "Bullocks." the man murmured before he turned and made his way out of the building.

The three stood in silence, not sure what to do, until they heard a soft almost inaudible sob from Molly's apartment. Mary acted then, pushing passed the men and quickly seeking out Molly who was at her kitchen table, her head in her hands.

"Oh darling, shushush, don't let it get you-"

"How much- how much did you hear?" Molly asked eyeing the men who were still lingering in the doorway, both seemingly keeping an eye on the stairs down the hall and the women. The blonde had tucked down on a knee in front of Molly, having managed to dig a tissue from her pocket, she dabbed at the girl's face.

"Oh, don't you worry, not as much as you think- it's fine."

"I'm fine, it's all fine. If you just- if you just give me a moment I can pull myself together and we can g-go to the restaurant."

"You sure?" Mary asked, a look of concern and question merging on her face, "Oh yes, I need to get out of here for a bit- and I'm a bit peeky after-" Molly's head flicked sideways to emphasize the doorway Tom had just stormed through.

"Dessert for dinner then?" Mary asked with an understanding smile.

Molly laughed a little and nodded, she stood and after a quick hug from Mary she strode off through her apartment leaving the three to wait silently in the warm but small kitchen.

Molly had never been so embarrassed in her life, and she took a verbal lashing from Sherlock on a weekly basis. To think, he had heard that. God, she hoped he hadn't heard all of that. She could only pray that Mary had not been trying to save her from her shame by lying, she couldn't even imagine facing Sherlock now. It had been pretty damn obvious to anyone that she was in love with him, but she had always tried to be respectful of his distaste for romance. She didn't want to be the one to make him uncomfortable, to accidentally push him away. She wanted to be his friend, if she couldn't be anything else.

But now, he would probably avoid her like the plague for the rest of the month until this all settled and he felt comfortable enough to come back around her. The very thought of him feeling like he had to hide from her because she couldn't control herself-

'Tom, you bastard-' Molly felt her anger flair and in one of her VERY rare spouts of tempur she picked up the first book she saw upon entering her bedroom and threw it full force at her vanity.

The resounding crashing seemed to pull her from her rage and as it faded she looked to see the book and realized it was the first medical book she had ever been given, her father had given it to her right before he-.

Instantly Molly was on the ground, kneeling in the shards and digging the book from the wreckage, pulling it to her chest and resting her chin on the fragile binding. She must of read this book a thousand times, "I'm sorry daddy." she murmured as she stood on shaking legs and felt a minor but sharp pain shoot through her knee.

She glanced down to see a cut with a small shiny piece of mirror sticking out triumphantly from its new perch.

"Damn-" She said with an exasperated air as her forehead came down to meet her palm, all three were surely going to be running up the stairs any minute, only to find the outcome of the infamous Hooper tempur...

"Ahem-"

Molly jumped and spun to see Sherlock standing in the doorway, his eyes scanning over Molly, the vanity, the mess on the floor and then to her book and finally down to her knee.

"Oh! Sherlock, I'm so sorry! I'm alright, just dropped my- mirror?" Molly said desperately glancing around the room for an excuse to the loud noise and her current state. When she realized there was no real excuse besides her poor excuse of self-control she deflated and glanced at the book in her arms before she laid it onto her bed.

"My tempur. It's a nasty thing when I actually let it get the best of me." Molly wrung her hands and looked down to her feet, "I'm usually so good about it but-"

"You're bleeding." came Sherlock's voice, it was soft and low and Molly stared at him a moment before her head jerked down and she gave a weak smile, "Oh! Yes! I cut myself. No worries, I'll get it patched up. Just, would you wait downstairs-"

"You'll need help dressing it." and then Sherlock was in the room removing his coat, scarf and gloves in one fluid motion as he stepped around the shards on the floor and headed to her ensuite bathroom.

"B-but John and Mary-"

"Have been sent on to the restaurant to procure the table and meet Graham-"

"Who?"

Graham, Graham Lestrade-" Sherlock was now digging through her bathroom for supplies to fix her wound and his deep voice was muffled so Molly stepped closer, "You mean Greg?"

"Yes, but if you expect to eat we need to get there before John orders, he does tend to eat more than his fair share, especially if he is not paying."

"Wha- who's paying?" Molly asked, now suddenly aware that she had been helped up to sit on the bathroom counter and Sherlock was kneeling in front of her armed with a pair of tweezers and a bottle of antiseptic.

"I am- well, Mycroft is, he sends his love but unfortunately can't make it, tied up in something with Russia at the moment and told me to put it on his tab."

"Oh-" was all she could get out before the antiseptic was poured over her wound and she suddenly found herself sucking in air and fisting the hem of her t-shirt, not aware at all of how high she was pulling it as she squished her eyes closed.

"Oh, oh, that's a nasty piece of work that bottle, it's like acid." Molly said trying to ignore the feeling of Sherlock doing his best to maneuver the mirror shard out of her knee with the least amount of damage possible.

Silence followed as Sherlock finished fishing out the pieces from her knee and started the procedure of wrapping.

Molly realized then that Sherlock was being more than accommodating and she would have to remember to get him a good juicy body part-

A sigh escaped her and she ended up looking down at her fisted hands, a lone tear coming to her eye and splashing down her cheek.

"Mm? Something else the matter?" Sherlock asked not looking up from his administrations.

"No." Molly said as she turned to glance over her shoulder and look into the mirror behind her, the red blotchy face that greeted her made her frown harder and she turned forward again realizing that this was actually the first time Sherlock had ever seen her cry. She had promised herself she would NEVER cry in front of him, no matter what he said or did, but did this really count if he was not the cause?

"Sure?" came his reply and Molly leaned forward a little to see that Sherlock was putting away the medical supplies and cleaning the blood off the floor and from her foot and shin.

Sighing in defeat Molly finally spoke, "I was just thinking about how I could thank you for being so kind. I thought a nice body part would be a good way to say thank you, but then-"

"You realized you really are as morbid as Tom suggested, and judging by your response to his snide but apropo nickname, I assume he is not the first one, in fact, to call you 'Morbid Molly.'"

She should have expected him to know the cause of her sorrow but she nodded anyway and gave a very small smile, "Brilliant as ever." she said as Sherlock helped her down and continued to give her support as she tried bending her suddenly very sore knee.

They slowly made their way out of the bathroom, Sherlock hitting the light off as they passed through the doorway, Molly limping slightly as he continued to support her until they reached her bed where Sherlock helped her to sit.

Molly remained quiet as Sherlock moved to clean up the glass, "Oh you don't-" but a look from the man's sharp blue eyes made Molly swallow her tongue and she watched as he made quick work of the remnants of her temper-tantrum.

Finally, he came to stand before her and Molly looked up to him, "Thank you Sherlock, you've done more than I exp- I just mean, thank you."

Sherlock gave a curt nod and then looked around her room a moment before his eyes landed on a plain and simple green dress hanging from her wardrobe door.

"For tonight?" he asked as he pointed at it with his finger, turning his body slightly as he did so.

Molly nodded slowly as her fingers subconsciously slid over the edge of the wrap protecting her torn up knee, Sherlock gave a curt nod before he reached for the dress and then laid it on the bed next to Molly, "It's chilly out, I recommend you wear those abhorrent stocking things that women seem so impressed with."

"Alright." Molly said softly and before she could thank him Sherlock was out the door and softly shutting it behind him. She stared for a moment more before she felt something inside her pull together and she pushed herself up with a new resolve. Before tonight was over, Molly Hooper would give Sherlock a proper thank you.

MSHMSHMSHMSHMSHSMSHSMSHSMSHSMSHSM

Dinner was splendid and Molly had never felt more loved. Between John and Mary, Greg and Meena and Sherlock's special birthday gift of perfect behavior she felt happier than she had felt in months. The best part, her trio of eavesdroppers had not said a word about what had happened when they had come to pick her up.

Meena and Greg had remained blissfully in the dark and Molly was grateful as it would have taken the topic of conversation and thrown it out the window. It was nice to talk about normal things and get to feel normal for a few hours, especially after Tom's tirade in her kitchen. She maybe Morbid Molly Hooper but she had good friends that made her feel special and wanted and that's all she cared about.

Sherlock had been quiet through most of dinner, at one point Molly swore she felt his fingers grace over her leg but when she glanced at him out of the corner of her eye he was listening attentively to John and Greg prattle on about the most recent football game. Both his elbows on the table, Sherlock's mother would have screamed if she were here and that made Molly smile.

After everything was eaten, cards and small trinket gifts given, thanks received, dessert ordered and then coffee sipped everyone was stuffed, tired and more than ready to go. Sherlock used Mycroft's card to pay and then they were all up and heading for the door. Meena hailed a cab to take her across town but Lestrade, who had been spending an awful lot of time with Molly's friend, elected to walk awhile with the group.

Greg, John and Mary moved ahead and Sherlock hung back with Molly, she walked slow on account of the minor pain still throbbing in her knee, "How's your-"

"It's fine." Molly said holding her purse strap tightly and trying to pull her coat closer, "Thank you, for all you did for me today. I know it must have been hard for you to-"

"Think nothing of it. After all, you've done many things for me."

"Still, it was nice."

Sherlock nodded and they continued to walk in peaceful silence, listening to the animated conversation of the trio ahead of them. Molly thought they would say no more and was about to delve into her memories of how wonderful tonight was when Sherlock's deep voice broke through and she turned to look at him, "Hmm?"

"I asked you if you meant what you said."

Molly thought a moment, her brow furrowing as she tried to recall what she had said recently that he could be referring too, when nothing came to mind she looked to him but was greeted with nothing but the side of his face as Sherlock stared ahead.

Suddenly, the good feelings she had been reveling in all night sank to the pit of her stomach and she jerked her head to look back at him, "Do you- do you mean the conversation with Tom, Mary said-"

"She said what she did to spare you feelings of embarrassment, and obviously Mary is more than ready to pretend like the entire event did not happen. That is fine for her and John, but the topic of discussion did in fact have to do with me, as such, I feel entitled to tell you the truth and in turn know the truth. We heard most of it, no doubt we showed up only a few minutes after Tom. What I want to know then, is, did you mean it?"

Molly felt the shaky breath enter her lungs but as she went to speak no words came out and the breath blew through her lips and she sagged into her steps until she all together stopped walking and turned to Sherlock, "You know the truth Sherlock, you need not ask for what you already know."

Sherlock had stopped walking and had turned to look at her with a mild intensity, scrutinizing her as if she were almost fascinating but not quite high enough on his list.

"So, you've tried unsuccessfully for seven years to stop loving me. Yet all attempts, therapy included, have failed? Interesting."

Molly felt her cheeks burst with heat and color at the mention of the therapy but she only averted her eyes and nodded her head tightly as she wished she could melt into the street.

"I honestly thought I was becoming obsessed, unhealthily obsessed and that soon enough I would turn into some obnoxious fangirl who meant nothing to you but detestable annoyance. I went to the therapy as a precaution, I wanted to be your friend Sherlock, I didn't want to take the chance of scaring you away- I mean, oh god, no I don't mean I've stalked you or that I didn't want you to be scared so you wouldn't run away I just meant-"

Sherlock gently took her twisting fingers and pried them apart before holding them in his, "You are ridiculous Molly Hooper." Sherlock said with a gentle smile and Molly stopped talking long enough to look up at him, instantly becoming entranced, as was per-usual, as she looked into his bright eyes. Thier interest had intensified but his face remained gentle and kind, such a rare sight Molly wished she had a mind palace of her own so that she could store it away in.

"Sherlock-" Molly called softly as she felt her face turn up more towards his, "Mmm-" he hummed as he leaned down a little towards her, "Why did you want to know if I meant-"

"I have never been so loved by anyone Molly Hooper. Nor have I ever loved anyone as much as you love me."

Molly looked down and a proud smile filled her face, "I don't mind loving you Sherlock, I just never wanted to make you feel uncomfortable enough to not be able to focus on the work. I know how much it means to you."

Gentle fingers cupped her chin and raised her face back to his, "I am dismissive of the virtuous, unaware of the beautiful, and blind in the face of love, but for you Molly Hooper, for so many years of love and loyalty, I will always allow this sentiment."

He leaned down slowly and Molly closed her eyes ready for the ever re-occurring, but always welcome, chaste kiss on the cheek. However, Sherlock surprised her when his hands came to slid up her neck and he gently placed his lips on hers. He lingered and stepped a fraction closer, deepening the kiss as his tongue slowly slid into her mouth and she allowed him entry.

She kissed him back, slow and easy, savoring this moment of bliss, not sure that it would ever happen again. Her lips tingled as he pulled away, body nearly goo and the pit of her stomach pooling with a warm glow that permeated her entire being.

Opening her eyes she had expected him to pull away but when she found him still lingering only inches from her lips she leaned in again and gave him a soft kiss on the corner of his mouth, "Thank you." she whispered softly into his ear, her eyes briefly fluttering closed again as she took in his scent with a long slow breath, "For everything."

When they finally pulled away they continued to look at each other a moment longer before Sherlock peered to the left and Molly looked down with a secret smile, a movement in the distance caught both their eyes and they glanced up to see the group stopped a couple yards ahead.

John and Greg shared looks of utter shock while Mary had a rather large smile plastered on her face, "Right, shall we go?" Molly asked as Sherlock cleared his throat and straightened his coat, "Yes."

As Molly started to walk she let a gentle lazy smile slide across her face, which only intensified when Sherlock gently took her hand in his. They caught up to the group and he released her and Mary quickly hooked Molly's arm in hers and towed her off, Sherlock watched after them as John and Greg pounced, their questions pelting off him like pebbles off car tires.

A/N: I hope you liked this, it was sort of cannon sort of not as there are plenty of references to season 3 but obviously this would not fit into anything after the sign of three. It's a one-shot but I also hope it kept in character a little, not too OOC. Let me know what you thought. Happy 2016.