Hey all! Sorry for not posting! I have been swamped with life! :c School and work have just been craaaaazzzyyyy! But Greg-mun and I are working on continuing this, I believe, so eventually there will be another chapter. Sorry for the delay :c

R&R~

Let's Take A Walk

Chapter Three

"What I said was stupid and rude and completely unnecessary, and I hurt you and I don't want you to be hurt and..." Suddenly the DI was at a loss for words and just stared at Molly.
"I, uh..." Molly stared at Lestrade blankly for a moment. She was shocked he had brought it up, and at first she didn't know what to say. Squeezing his hand warmly, she gave him an affectionate smile before saying, "Thank you, Greg."

Slowly Greg's mouth curled in a smile, and he felt some of the heavy burden of guilt leave his chest. Relieved, he exhaled and tightened his grip on Molly's hand. Without saying a thing, he started walking in the direction he thought her house was. "Are we almost there?" he asked. "I'm feeling a bit, erm, chilly." In fact, he was freezing. His pale, blue button-up was soaked and clung to his body like a second skin, and icey rain drops fell from his hair into his eyes. He shivered and felt the goose bumps rising.

Glancing around for any recognizable landmarks, Molly spotted one; they were a couple blocks away from her flat now. "Almost there... Greg," She said with a smile. Gesturing to his coat, she offered it back to him. "You can take it back, Detective. I'm fine, really."

"Oh, no," he said. "I am a healthy detective from the New Scotland Yard. I can handle a little bit of rain!" To prove his point he sneezed and sneezed again. "Honestly, I am fine." He grinned. They walked the rest of the way in comfortable silence. The streets were empty. The rain drops had had the street all to themselves and decided the Londoners they had chased away could return; it was time to leave. The grey pavement and the grey buildings around Molly and Greg had a dull shine, refelecting the moon into Molly's eyes. Greg chuckled slightly and shook his head; his mind was going strange places tonight.

"I think I can handle the chill better than you can, Greg, judging my your sneezing. Really, I insist." She began taking the coat off with the intent of returning it. Gregory smiled at the small pathologist, brought his hands up to her's and stilled them. Looking in her eyes, his couldn't help but soften.
"If I am catching a cold already, I can imagine you would do the same without the coat." This didn't really seem to convince her, so he lowered his hands and stuck them in his sticky-wet trousers, trying to catch a minimum of warmth. "Besides, if I happen to fall ill, I'd need you to take care of me. It wouldn't do at all if we were both ill."
He hunched his shoulders to suppress a shiver. "And we're almost there anyway. See? Three very convincing arguments." He grinned in his usual manner, showing his strong, white teeth and all, proud of his very satisfying answers.

"I, uh, I guess that is ok. We can get you warmed up in my flat. I have a couple of blankets to spare... Oh, umm..." Molly blushed a bit at her suggestion.

Greg bit his lower lip when he caught the double meaning, but judging by her blush, she hadn't meant it that way. "Good," he said, this time without a smile but honest gratitude tinged his words. "I think that might work very well." They had stopped walking, and Greg glanced up at the tall, dark building. "Is this your place?"

Nodding, Molly made her way up the steps and opened the door, holding it open for Lestrade. "I'm the third down on the right. Here are the keys; I'm going to check my mail quickly..." Slipping them into Greg's hands, Molly walked in and went to the left slightly, where a row of mailboxes stood.

Greg looked at the cold keys in his hand and glanced at Molly's leather-covered back. His coat. When she returned it to him it would undoubtly smell of her. He smiled at her without being noticed and walked to his right. He counted the doors and halted in front of door numbered three. It was a door like all the others. Grey, unfeeling, and cold—so unlike his own house. Well, that was his ex-wife's doing. She took care of the plants, flowers, and paint. He sighed and stuck the key in the hole and turned it. Pushing the door open carefully, he entered the flat. It was dark, but when he found the light switch and turned it, he smiled. He dropped the keys on a small side table and entered the living room. Suddenly feeling really cold, Greg couldn't stop the clattering of his teeth. He shivered and sneezed. Oh dear, this was not good.

Walking in behind him and closing the door, she set the mail on the table top and took off his coat. "There are blankets in the hallway closet, Greg. I'll get some tea going—maybe that will help warm us up!"

"Ah, tea... Th-that might b-be nice..." he said, sniffing and rubbing his hands together to get warm. "Blankets.. That's ni-nice too." Greg quickly grabbed the blankets from the spot Molly indicated and wrapped himself in one, relishing in the warmth it provided almost immediately. He took another blanket and walked over to the kitchen where Molly was busy making tea. He gently wrapped the blanket around her small shoulders from behind without a warning.

Molly jumped at the sudden contact but turned to him, smiling. "Thank you, Greg. You didn't need to get me one; I'm fine. It was a bit nippy, but I do a lot of walking—I'm a bit used to it. The tea will be ready in a bit. Um, the telly is in the sitting room, and I have some playing cards around here somewhere—in case you get bored."

"Thank you Molly," Greg answered as he lifted his hands from her shoulders. "I was wondering... Do you have some towels for me? I am no doctor, but I do think I should get out of these wet clothes, preferable sooner than later." He scrathed the back of his head nervously. "If you don't mind, that is!" he added hastily. "But, erm... My shirt is clammy, and I am really cold, so..."
He pursed his lips and smiled at Molly. He was glad she was not cold, at least his jacket had prevented that from happening. Silently he thanked his mother she had given him good lessons on how to behave like a gentleman. Not that he had been a gentleman this evening—and here his train of thought ended. That was why he was there; he had been so rude. He looked down at Molly and gazed into her brown eyes. He suddenly had to repress the urge to cup her cheek with his hands and bring their faces together. Weird. He never had that feeling before.

"Oh, yes, I do! I'll get them if you don't mind watching the tea...? They're in the bedroom, and, well, my room is a mess, and I wouldn't want you to see that..." Molly mumbled off embarrassingly, backing away. She didn't wait for an answer from him; she figured he would just do what she asked if she left. When she got to her room and opened the door, she started picking up the dirty clothes that were strewn across the floor. She usually was pretty clean, but work had been stressful—and why was she making excuses. It's like no one ever came to her flat—let alone her room! Giggling at herself a bit, she whispered chastisingly. "Calm down, Molly...! He's just a man... in your flat. In your flat. Oh my good... ness..!" She walked across to the bathroom and raided a couple of towels from the closet, hoping he wouldn't mind that they were a pretty, deep pink. It was a nice color, but most people seemed to not appreciate it as much as her.

Greg watched her retreat, not even having the time to make a reply. Women and the urge to keep things clean—or rather the urge to want to appear neat. He chuckled to himself: she should see his house. He walked over to the kitchen and observed the kettle as it boiled. When it whistled, he quickly made tea and poured some in two mugs he found in the cupboard. As his cold fingers touched the mugs, he shivered again. He had to get rid of his shirt—and soon too. He didn't want to catch pneumonia. And if he did, well, he wanted to be at home.
Greg carried the two mugs to the living room and placed one on the small table. His fingers curled around the other one as he patiently waited for Molly to bring him a towel. He snuggled deeper in the blankets. They were comfortably warm, and Greg had to take care that he didn't doze off.

Molly hurried out of the room, towels in hand, and found Greg perched on her couch shivering away. "If you want, Greg, I could turn the heater on..." She handed the towels to him and worried her bottom lip with her teeth. She should've taken a cab; he wouldn't be in this position if she had...

"Thank you," Greg said as she handed him the alarmingly pink towels. He motioned at his drenched shirt. "Do you mind if I... You know.. Get this off? I'm freezing here," he added for clarification.

"No, no, I, uh, don't mind. Please, go on ahead...!"

Greg grinned and quickly grabbed his shirt by the hems, meaning to pull it over his head. But his shirt stuck to his chest and caught just over his head. He wriggled, trying to get out of it, but the wet fabric chose not to cooperate.
"Molly?" he asked, his voice muffled by the fabric, "Can you, erm, give me a hand?"

Molly chuckled lightly and blushed when she caught herself observing Greg's bare chest a bit too long before helping. "Yes, yes, I can. Sorry!" She pulled up on the wet cloth, prying it away from his face.

Greg sighed from relief as soon as the wet fabric left his body but shivered even more when the air hit his skin. He felt goosebumps rising and quickly dried himself as well as he could with the pink towel before wrapping the blanket tightly around him. He sank down on the sofa and looked at Molly, a hint of a smile playing around his mouth. His wet, blue shirt lay forgotten on the floor.

A shy smile tugged at Molly's lips. "Are you comfortable now? I'm sorry, but it's a bit boring here at my flat... Just me and Ol' Toby! Oh, gosh! I should probably let him out of his room. He's been in it all night..." Molly raised a finger up and mouthed "one minute" at him before rushing off to let Toby out of the second bedroom. "Oh, Toby, you poor dear! I'm sorry! I forgot all about you...!" She moaned out softly as she picked him up, stroking his long fur. He growled a bit, upset at being disturbed but allowed her to pet him and carry him out to the living room. Talking to Greg, she set the cat down on the floor in the kitchen. "I hope you don't mind..."

"I don't mind, but I am more of a dog person, I think." Greg sipped from his tea, savouring the warmth that pulsed through him, and he closed his eyes for a second. "You promised me to see him in a scarf, though," he added thoughtfully, with a grin, as he opened his eyes again. His mug was empty, so he put it back on the table.

"I think he's a bit crabby... Maybe next time?" She knelt down and pet the cat, hoping to coax him into being social.

"Molls, your tea is getting cold," Greg said, while he snuggled deeper in his blanket. The warmth pooled around him, and the events that happened in the rain outside, a half an hour ago, seemed to belong to a distant past. "Molly, just checking, but, erm... Did we really dance in the rain, in the middle of the street?" Greg asked.

"Oh, that's fine. Usually the tea is a bit too hot for me straight from the kettle. I like to let it sit for a while, and, um, yes, uh, we did dance in the rain." Molly gave a high-pitched giggle at the ridiculousness of the situation. She made her way back to the sitting room and stood awkwardly behind Lestrade and the couch. "Um, would you like to watch some telly or something? I have a bunch of movies..."

Greg followed Molly with his eyes, and when she disappeared behind him, he tilted his head until he saw her standing there upside down. He shot her a crooked smile and nodded. "Sounds like a goo-hoo-atschoo!" He sniffed and grinned. "What I was trying to say is that that sounds like a great idea. What films do you have?"

"I'm a bit of a movie fanatic and don't stick to a particular genre... What kind would you like to watch...?" Resting her arms on the couch behind him, her hand sitting in her hand, she gestured with her other to her collection of DVDs along the wall by the telly.

Greg leaned his head back so he looked Molly in the eyes, albeit upside down. He smiled at her, and, suddenly, all the air was pushed out of his lungs. He gasped and swallowed. Blinking twice, he forced a grin and got up quickly to take a better look at Moll's film collection. He fished a film from among the others and showed it to her. "Fancy some James Bond?"

Molly made a slight face; she really didn't know why she had that movie... But Greg wanted to see it, and, well, maybe watching it with him would make it better. "Yeah. Sure. Why not?" She said with a smile as she walked around to sit on the sofa.

"Great!" Greg beamed, he loved James Bond, especially Casino Royale. "It has such a clever plot," he said. "My ex-wife never allowed me to watch it, so I often had to make up an excuse to go to a friend's. But that's been ages." He laughed softly and looked at Molly. "I'm glad you like Bond too, we have more in common than I thought!"

Molly giggled awkwardly and looked away. Oh gosh. She'd misled him... At least it was only over a movie and not something serious. "Actually, ah, I don't even know why I have it... Heh. It's a good movie, but not quite my..."

Greg's face fell just the slightest. He tried to cover it up by grinning and saying, "If you don't want to watch it, that's fine. I like many kinds of films, really. Which one do you truly like then? Perhaps I don't know that one." He felt a bit guilty over forcing a film on her

"Oh, no no no! I don't mind watching it, Greg, really!" She said with a smile—an almost honest one. "It's not one of my favorites, of course, but that doesn't mean we can't watch it. Put it in. Please." Molly gestured to the telly and DVD player. "I don't mind."

Greg's eyes scanned Molly's face carefully. "Okay," he finally said, a soft smile gracing his feautures. "On one condition." Suddenly serious, he looked Molly straight in her eyes and said softly, "I will put this DVD on, if you promise to go and have some coffee with me, and a nice film afterwards."
Oh, please, say yes. Say yes! I haven't been too straight forward, have I? Have I misread the signs? Please, say yes! Greg bit his lip, taking in every little twitch in Molly's face.

Biting her lip, she thought about it. Was he asking her out on a date? If she said yes, she'd be getting into something she wasn't too certain she wanted to. Dating implied a potential relationship... With a man with kids... Did she want that responsibility? "I will have to think about it, Greg. Let's just watch the show."

Oh. "Yes, of course. Sorry," he stuttered, getting to his feet to put the DVD on. Shite, he had gone too far. Well, it was a long-shot anyway. He flopped down on the sofa next to Molly and handed her the remote.