Chapter 5: Out

Quick note: There is a paragraph that has disturbing images. Be forewarned.

He picks her up promptly at 7. As usual he is impeccably dressed and wearing her favorite purple shirt. Having learned to avoid little black dresses, she dons a body hugging coral sweater dress, nude tights and boots. Her hair is pinned low with curls cascading down her right shoulder.

"You look...nice."

She snorts at his lame attempt at flattery. She's not sure if he genuinely likes what he sees, or is incredulous that he's out with a walking orange. Whatever it is, she doesn't care. She is determined to enjoy her night.

"Well, you look good enough to eat." She says cheekily as she takes his arm, her coat, and closes the door.

The exhibit is in a nondescript 5 story building near Kensington Gardens. But once they walked in, they could see how marvelously the curators have re-imagine the space. The lobby was transformed to look like the bottom of a well. The main floor, where guests come in, is lit only by candles on cocktail tables and soft spotlights directed on the few pictures on the walls. As guests look up, they could see the moonlight coming through the glass ceiling enhanced by strings of light cascading down, making it look like raindrops falling into the space. Each floor also gets progressively brighter.

It's breathtaking.

Just then she hears her name.

"Kris!" She hugs him tightly.

"Wow, Molly. You look gorgeous," he says, giving her an appreciative once over. He runs his hand gently on her hair. "I love the look."

"Thank you. And you! You clean up nicely." She gives him a wide grin. She had never seen him wear anything unwrinkled during their trip. (She doesn't really remember him at the wedding. He found her the next day at the hotel.) But that's to be expected when one goes on adventures.

Remembering that she came with a date, Molly turns to Sherlock for a proper introduction.

"Kris this is Sherlock. Sherlock, Krysztof." They shake hands. Sherlock is turning on his charm, she can tell. Kris straightens up and eyes him suspiciously.

"Good to meet you," Kris says. "You're not quite what I expected."

"Oh? How so?"

"I thought you'd be…"

"Taller?"

"Colder."

And with that he turns back to Molly to give her a peck on the lips. "I have to mingle. I'll see you later?"

"Later," she says, looking at him with what could only be described as googly eyes.

Once he's past earshot, Sherlock turns to her having picked up two champagne flutes from the server. He hands her a glass.

"Well, he seems very…"

"Nice?" Molly anticipates. Sherlock is never profuse with compliments.

"Affectionate." He's looking at her fondly even though a part of her would want him to show a hint of jealousy.

"Ah, that. Well, you know…"

"Why did you want to bring me here?" He looks at her with genuine curiosity.

"I wanted you two to meet," she says honestly. "Plus, it's an exhibit about human emotion. I thought maybe it might be… educational?"

Sherlock just squints and purses his lips. Molly decides to let it slide.

"Shall we?" She takes his arm and guides him towards the photos.

These pictures were curated in collaboration with Reuters, Unicef and Instagram. Strange bedfellows sure, but the result is a mix of ordinary and extraordinary moments in life shared in social media. Some of the main floor photos are gut-wrenchingly gruesome: a crime scene in the slums of Manila of a woman cradling her slain boyfriend's body with a sign that says Drug Pusher; a man and woman in Mosul, holding each other at their child's funeral amidst the rubble around them; an unearthed mass gravesite in Rwanda. There are tissue holders on hand and many of the guests make use them. The bottom floor is apparently a collection of human despair and depravity.

Further along there's a picture of a young woman holding the hand of an older man in the hospital. Molly pauses to inspect it longer. Sherlock observes her, afraid she'll burst into inconsolable sobs. But she doesn't. She maintains her composure, but her eyes are teary.

"She looks peaceful, doesn't she?"

"The inevitability of death. It comes to us all." He responds solemnly. They look at each other and then move on to the next floor in silence.

They are midway through the exhibit when Sherlock stops. It's the picture of Molly looking away from the camera, her hair is up in a messy bun, ringlets of hair framing her face. Her eyes are forlorn but a smile is pasted her lips like it doesn't belong there. Around her is a happy dancing crowd. It's a study in contrast, and her portrait is captivating as it is moving.

"Oh, there it is. It made it in here after all," she says brightly. She tells Sherlock that's how she met Kris. He was a friend of the groom, took this shot, and then had to look for her the next day to ask permission if he could use it for an exhibit. She seems oblivious of the effect of the shot on Sherlock who continues to stare at it. Finally he speaks without turning to her.

"Why do you look so... lost?"

Molly shrugs. She doesn't want to get into an existential discussion with him. What would she tell him? The awkward truth that she was thinking about him? A half-truth about being happy for her friend but sad for herself? He's a detective. It wouldn't be so hard to deduce.

The uncomfortable silence is saved by Kris, who makes another appearance next to them.

"Molly, Sherlock. I'd like to introduce Francois." Kris is beaming. Then she notices they're holding hands. Her face lights up.

"It's a pleasure to meet you. I've heard so much about what you do. It's fascinating," she says as she reaches to shake his hands excitedly.

"He does that," Francois says. "He's a chatterbox."

Francois is a good looking guy who looks lithe and artistic compared to Kris's hardy, athletic build. Where Kris has piercing blue eyes and sandy blond hair, Francois is a fine blend of his French and Vietnamese heritage. And they look divine together.

Kris is explaining the picture of Molly to Sherlock and Francois, how amidst the raucous crowd, his lens found Molly and he started snapping.

"At that moment, I just fell in love with her. She looked like she needed saving. My damsel in distress," Kris says, taking her hand and kissing it.

"You've been true to your word. You've been every bit my fairy godmother," Molly says with a deep love for this man who opened her heart a little bit more, and made things possible.

When Kris came to breakfast the day after Meena's wedding, he immediately spotted Molly in the hotel's restaurant and asked her if he could use her image for an exhibit. He wasn't sure though if it would make the last minute cut. Since that day, he pestered her to go out with him. He regaled her with his worldly adventures and photographs until she relented on her 5th day in Mumbai. He promised to transform her, to get her out of her shroud of death, to be her very own fairy godmother. It was then she guessed he was gay. It was hard to pin down at first since he was Polish living just outside of Chicago. Whatever telltale signs that would have been obvious if they shared a culture was not evident to her at first. Soon she would learn about the love of his life as she slowly opened up about hers. It was nice to have someone to talk to so openly. They were both broken then but decided to make the best of it.

And now?

She hugs him again, clearly happy for him.

"Things seems to be working out for you," she whispers to him as they're wrapped in an embrace.

"For us?"

She shakes her head. "I think I've been barking up the wrong tree."

He pulls back to cup her face. "That's not what I see, sweetie. Have faith this time." With that, he kisses her forehead and calls back to his man who has been in a serious conversation with 'her man', and they saunter off, hand in hand.

Molly and Sherlock walk further along the hall moving to the next level where they see pictures of friendships around the world: two friends exuberantly greeting each other at a market in Marrakesh; boys dragging their toy boats at sunset in Zanzibar; a victory shot at a pickup soccer game just outside of Rome.

As they get to the final level, the soft light of the full moon is unobscured and the mood palpably changes. Whoever designed the lighting is a genius. Because if romantic love is the theme of the top level exhibition, they have clearly achieved it.

On the first few pictures, Sherlock lingers on a picture of two men hiding their joined hands. Molly observes him to gauge his reaction. Could he have been in the closet all this time? Could that be the real reason why he didn't understand what "it" meant? Mrs. Hudson always joked about him and John. But if he sees her like Kris sees her, it makes some sense now…

"So, you knew Kris is gay?" Sherlock says without looking at her.

"Yes."

"But you're in love with him. And he's in love with you." He turns to her, confused.

Molly moves on to the next photo. It's clearly a couple's first date. Sherlock follows when she starts to answer. She formulates her answer in her head because it didn't make sense to her at first. Now, though, it's the most natural thing. How do you explain something you barely understand but know is just what it is?

"As I said before, you can be in love with someone without needing to *be with* them. I guess 'in love' wouldn't be the right term now, but those moments when we were together, he bared his soul to me, and I to him. And I just fell for him.

"When I realized I was in love with a gay man, it was then that I learned that it is possible to be in love with someone and be at peace with never being with them romantically."

She's not sure he can comprehend what she just explained. She barely understands it herself, but there it was anyway.

They move on to the next photo of a young couple about to kiss at the doorstep outside a suburban home. And then to a portrait of a woman in bed with her hair tousled. It was titled "Afterglow".

"Is this what you feel for me?" He asks.

Molly lets out a breath as she examines a photo of a couple swinging their little boy between them. The look of pure joy on their faces bursting out of the frame. How can she answer that?

They reached the end of the exhibit. She guides their way to the outdoor balcony and the chill of the night hits her. Sherlock removes his jacket and helps her into it.

"It's not a secret Sherlock. You wrestled it out of me, remember?"

"Yes. But do you not think I'm capable of being with you?"

Molly's head snaps up as she tries to bore a hole into his soul. Can it be? She wants to hear him say it.

"What are you saying?"

"I'm in love with you, Molly Hooper. And I'm incapable of being without you."

It's a shock to her system.

"You're not … gay or asexual?" It now sounds ludicrous to voice it out like that.

Sherlock scrunches his eyes in confusion, shakes his head as he tousles his hair in frustration.

"Oh for goodness sakes, woman..."

He takes her face and plants his lips firmly onto hers. She's taken aback by the force of his determination to kiss her, but his mouth tastes divine as she feels his tongue part her lips. Before she knows it, her hand snakes up to cradle his face as she deepens the kiss and forgets to care about propriety.

When they both come up for air, she notices Kris and Francois in the corner of her eye. They're both smiling at them. Suddenly self-conscious she buries her face in Sherlock's chest as he wraps his arms around her and kisses the top of her head. Then they start giggling uncontrollably.

"Did you bring me here to set me up with your friend?" He says with his mouth still pressed on the top of her head. She nods, and they start another round of hysterical laughter. Good God, Molly Hooper, she thinks. She has never been so glad to be so very wrong.

Once they compose themselves, her friends walk up to them with a knowing look. She then notices Kris's Nikon in his hand. He raises his eyebrow, as if asking if he can interrupt them for a bit.

"I think I may have another addition to the exhibit," Kris tells them. He shows the photo he just took. "May I?"

It was a private affair and ordinarily she would have wanted to keep that moment to herself. But the composition was sublime: a silhouette of two bodies coming together for the first time, under a full moon, unaware of the world around them. It was the epitome of romance.

They all look to Sherlock for an answer. He's the one with the most to lose. It's bad enough getting caught in a deerstalker and forever be the Hat Detective. It's another thing to have your vulnerability displayed for the world to see.

He considers the ask carefully. You really can't make out the faces. But still…

He shakes his head.

"Be part of the Well of Sentiment exhibit? I think not. I've a reputation to protect." He smiles mischievously, as he tightens his grip on her shoulders. "But I would love to have a copy of that before you permanently delete it. Do you mind?"

"Not at all, dahling. Not at all."

Kris takes his camera and his phone, adjusts settings and soon they hear the ping of a message received on her phone.

When they open it, they see it captioned Out of the Closet Romantic.

Molly grins.

Well, it took them long enough to see the light.

The End.

Author's Note: Thank you for completing it! I appreciate reviews.

In case you're wondering, Sherlock already knew that Kris was gay because the pictures of Molly he used in the album he gave her were taken from his social media accounts where he tagged Molly. Naturally, he wanted to check to make sure Molly was safe, so he did a background check.

I also think that Sherlock is a romantic, much like his brother Mycroft.