Fic for dioscureantwins: Measurable Steps, 4/9

[holmesticemods]

A week and a half after Molly had moved in Lestrade called Sherlock in to consult on a case. Molly was glad for that because Sherlock had been getting restless. He'd run his brain around in circles with the two packages left on her doorstep, and he had gone over all the evidence from Moriarty's suicide twice and apparently still believed the man wasn't Moriarty. It was a bit exhausting to hear him go over everything multiple times as he tried to suss out any meanings he might have missed, so she was glad for something that would be a good distraction.

They made their way to the crime scene, at the base of the London Eye. She could see Jarrod standing outside the crime scene on the side of the tape they were on. He wasn't hard to miss; he had blonde hair that was almost white and striking green eyes, but what was most striking was he had a confidence about him that you could see before he ever spoke a word to you, and he managed to make you feel at ease once you did actually talk to him. He looked up and gave her a grin. “Good to see you, Molly,” he said, his eyes lighting up as he spoke. Then he turned to Sherlock. “Jarrod Teague.” He extended his hand towards Sherlock, and after a moment of eyeing it warily Sherlock shook it. “Greg's over near the body. The initial observation has already been finished but he asked for the bodies to stay there until you could take a look.”

“Don't tell me to put on one of those suits,” Sherlock said gruffly.

“Greg told me about that quirk, so you don't have to,” Jarrod said. “But we have gloves for both of you.”

“Thank you,” Molly said as Sherlock held out his hand for the gloves. Jarrod handed him a pair and then he lifted up the crime scene tape and ducked under it. Jarrod held it up for Molly and she went under as well, and Jarrod followed her. “It must be a complicated murder for Greg to call Sherlock.”

“Well, it's something that had Greg puzzled, and I couldn't add much more to what I observed,” he said.

“How did their deaths occur?” she asked, watching Sherlock go over to the bodies.

“They'd had a bout of diarrhea and said they were nauseous this morning, but they decided to brave the city anyway. An hour ago they both just dropped down and started convulsing. They were drooling uncontrollably before they died so the main theory is that they were poisoned, but their companions weren't affected and they've been together since ten this morning.”

“Huh,” she said. “I'd say the chances are it's a slow acting poison. There are a few that could have those symptoms, but most of them have other effects that would have shown up before they actually died. Sherlock might have a better idea of ones that would work the way this one did.”

“Well, I'm sure your insight would be welcomed as well,” he said as they got over to the bodies.

“You said they last ingested food around six hours ago?” Sherlock was asking Lestrade as they got close enough to hear what he was saying. He was examining one of the bodies, paying close attention to the woman's mouth.

Lestrade nodded and looked at his notes. “They had breakfast at ten this morning and then felt too ill to eat anything else.”

“I think I know what it might have been,” Sherlock said. “I need to have blood work run to be sure, but if the dab of honey on her mouth contains what I think it does then chances are they were poisoned with honey made from bees who had fed on rhododendrens or azaleas.” He stood up and looked over at Molly. “Have you ever seen anyone poisoned by that method?” he asked her.

She shook her head. “That's a new one.”

“There is always the chance it was an accident, and if that is the case you might see more poisonings of that method. If they are the only deaths by that means, however, that means it was deliberate, and I would start by looking at their traveling companions. You need to track down where the honey is if the poison from those flowers is detected in their system.”

“I will,” Lestrade said. He looked over at Molly. “Do you want to contribute anything?”

She shook her head. “I don't think my observations would make a difference. Sherlock seems to have a pretty solid idea of what happened.”

“Well, hopefully it won't cause a panic about tainted honey,” Lestrade said. He then watched Sherlock strip off his gloves. “I'm sorry it's not more complicated for you.”

“If you need further assistance don't hesitate to ask,” Sherlock said. He then nodded towards the crime scene tape. “Perhaps the three of us could speak in private a moment?” Lestrade nodded and he, Sherlock and Molly walked over to a secluded area of the crime scene. “Has there been any progress on identifying the stain that was on the box?”

Lestrade nodded. “It's a combination of gun cleaning supplies. There's some sort of solvent as well as breech plug grease and lubricant, but none of it is linked to any specific brand. They all appear to be homemade.”

Sherlock was quiet for a moment. “When I have more clues I think that will help immensely. Is there any chance I can get the exact chemical makeup of each part of the stain?”

“I'll get it to you as soon as possible,” he replied with a nod.

“Thank you.” Lestrade blinked slightly and Sherlock frowned. “What?”

“You thanked me for doing something. That's new.”

“I'm attempting to treat my friends better,” he said with a slight shrug.

“So we're friends?” Lestrade asked with a grin.

“Yes,” Sherlock said with a nod. “I thought that was obvious.”

“No, not really. But it's a good thing to know.” Lestrade pulled his coat tighter around him. “I'll get you the results and if anything else develops with this case I'll keep you informed.”

“Very well,” Sherlock replied.

“Hopefully next time you'll actually have something to do,” Lestrade told Molly with a grin.

“It's all right that I didn't. I'm just disappointed I missed seeing Sherlock work,” she said with a smile of her own. “Next time, perhaps.”

“I'm fairly sure there will be a few next times,” Lestrade said. “I'll get back to the crime scene now. See you both later, all right?”

“Bye, Greg,” Molly said as Sherlock nodded. The two of them began to walk back to the crime scene tape. “How did you know about that poison?” she asked.

“There are a few poisons that kill that way, but the smudge of honey on the corner of the woman's mouth lead me to thinking it was tainted honey, because the other poisons would take time to prepare and based on what Lestrade had told me there had not been time to prepare any other poisons. And the woman did not look as though she had been poisoned for an extended period of time.”

“Ah,” she said with a nod. They ducked back under the crime scene tape and made their way to the street. “So what are you going to do for the rest of the day?”

“Once I get the results of the components on the stain I'm going to start researching how someone would come up with those particular combinations. Whoever it is who made the latest gift is a gun expert if they have homemade cleaning solutions and lubricants.” He flipped the collar of his coat up against the cold. “Aside from that, however, I have no other plans.”

“Well, John said he was going to have a late night tonight, so it's just us until at least nine,” she said. “I thought I could cook for us before I relax with a film.”

“I can take everything into my room if you would prefer,” he said as they got to the pavement.

“You don't have to feel as though you can't stay in the sitting room,” she said. “I can read a book instead.”

“You should be able to relax how you want,” he replied. “Neither you or John should have to live your lives around me.”

“Well, I rather have to at the moment,” she pointed out. “You're not letting me out of your sight, remember?”

He stopped walking and looked at her. It looked as though he was weighing something in his head. Finally he spoke. “Would you like to watch a movie at the cinema instead?” he asked.

“But you have plans,” she said.

“You've been cooped up inside most of the last week or so while I've been trying to figure out all I can from the evidence I have. It's only fair if you get to enjoy yourself for at least one afternoon this week.”

“Could we toss in eating at a restaurant as well?” she asked hopefully.

He nodded. “That would be fine with me.”

She gave him a wide grin. “This is going to be nice, I think. As long as I can pick a movie you aren't going to hate, at any rate.”

“Avoid romantic comedies. Or comedies in general, actually,” he said.

“So that leaves dramas and action movies,” she said thoughtfully. “Do you have any preferences?”

He was quiet for a moment. “Action movies, I think. A drama would require me to pay attention. If we watch a movie where I can let my mind wander that would be best.”

“As far as I know there are only two out now, 'RoboCop' and 'Non-Stop,'” she said. “The first one didn't interest me as much since I wasn't a fan of the original version.”

“Then we can watch the second one,” he said. “What is it about?”

“I'm not sure. All I know is Liam Neeson is the star and it takes place on a plane. I've seen a few of his action movies and enjoyed them. He's a rather unexpected actor to star in those kind of movies. I'm used to him in dramatic fare or the occasional comedy, though that was earlier in his career.”

“If it interests you I can tolerate it,” he replied. “Do we want to do the film before or after we eat?”

“Let's find out when there's a showing first,” she said. “Then we can decide.”

“Very well.” He reached over and hailed them a cab, asking the driver to take them to the closest cinema when they got settled. The cab took off before he spoke again. “If you want to do things like this more often, let John or I know. We can make time to accompany you to things so you aren't at home all the time.”

“What about things like plays or musicals, or concert performances? Because I try to go to one at least once a month. More if I can.”

“I suppose I could tolerate an orchestral performance. Plays and musicals would probably be something I would avoid, though if John is unable to attend with you I can simply tune it out.” He looked over at her. “What other things do you usually enjoy?”

She thought about it for a moment. “Films, mostly. I brought over a lot of my collection but I tend to go to the cinema at least three times a week. It's a way to be around people but be by myself as well. There's something about watching a movie at the cinema that's more appealing than watching it at home. And now that I'm not actually working I plan to catch up on the reading list I set for myself years ago that I keep adding to. And I love to bake. There were days I was too tired from my post to do much cooking, but on my days off I would bake up a storm. A lot of it went to the Yard, just because everyone there works so hard and deserves a bit of a treat.”

“You did seem especially friendly with Teague,” he said.

“Well, we are friendly,” she said. “I enjoy talking to him. And before you say anything I don't secretly fancy him.”

“I wasn't going to say that,” he said, slightly defensively.

“But it sounded implied,” she said. “I am allowed to have male friends who I hold no romantic interest in. It does actually happen. I mean, you're one of them.”

“But you did hold a romantic interest in me,” he countered.

She didn't want to have this conversation. She didn't want to go into whether she still fancied him or not because it would be easier if she didn't. It would be safer. Finally she made a decision in her head as to how to proceed. “Did being the operative word,” she said, looking at him intently. “You left, Sherlock. You left and I had to move on. I had no clue if or when you would come back. I mean, I knew you weren't dead every time I got a letter, but what happened if I went two months without hearing from you? Or six months? Or a year? Was I supposed to just wait? And what would have been the point? I may have been interested in you but you were never interested in me.” She looked away at that point. “I deserve to be happy, Sherlock. I don't think you would have made me happy.”

He was quiet for quite a few minutes. The silence stretched on so much she started to worry she'd angered him, and she turned again to see him looking at her. “I suppose I wouldn't have,” he said quietly. She saw he almost looked sad about it, and that surprised her.

“Sherlock...” she began, but he shook his head and she stopped. She looked at him for a long moment and then leaned towards the driver. “221B Baker Street, please”

“You don't have to go back home,” he said, his eyes widening.

“I don't feel like going to the cinema anymore,” she said. “Maybe another time.”

“I made you upset,” he said with a sigh. “That wasn't my intent.”

“You didn't make me upset, Sherlock. I just...we never talked about it. We've been living together for weeks now and we've avoided this topic and now that it's come up I find I actually don't want to talk about it,” she said. “I'm just not in the mood to enjoy a film right now.”

“I'll retire to my room so you can have ample space,” he said. “Because it's obvious to me you don't want to be around me right now.”

“That is not what I meant,” she said, her voice pained. “I just don't want to deal with that topic right now.”

“And it would be best if I wasn't around to make you think about it.”

She was quiet for a full two minutes. Was he really that upset that she didn't want to talk about that? Just because she wanted to avoid a topic didn't mean she wanted to avoid him “Driver? Pull over,” she said when she finally spoke.

“We're not anywhere close to home,” he said as the driver pulled over to the curb.

“I need to get out and clear my head,” she said, reaching for her handbag. “I can survive a few hours on my own.”

“It's not safe,” he said as she rummaged through her handbag.

“Then what are we going to do, Sherlock? Argue about this?” she asked. “Because I don't want a fight.”

“At least take the cab all the way home. I'll get out here. If you're at home I'll know you're safe.” He reached over for the buckle of his seat belt, undoing it. “I'll come back in a few hours.”

She stopped looking through her handbag. “Fine,” she said quietly.

He opened the door and exited the cab. Before he shut the door he reached for his wallet and paid the driver. “Make sure she goes to 221B Baker Street. Whatever is left over is yours to keep.”

She leaned back in her seat and looked out the window as he shut the door. After a moment the cab moved back into traffic. She tried her best not to dwell on her thoughts, instead focusing on the city passing by her window. Finally the cab pulled up to her temporary home and she got out, going to the door. She had a key and so she let herself in, going up to the sitting room for a moment before going to her bedroom. She paced back and forth for a moment before moving over towards the window. She knew the general location of the camera monitoring her window and she stood in its view. “Your brother's an idiot,” she said, not entirely sure if Mycroft would even realize she was talking to him. “A world class idiot.” She moved back to her bed just as her mobile rang. Warily she pulled it out of her handbag and saw it was Mycroft. “Do you have audio surveillance as well in this room?” she asked incredulously after she answered.

“No, but I can read lips,” he replied. “I imagine there is something in particular he's done to make you think he's an idiot?”

“He thinks every man I'm friends with has some sort of romantic interest in me. Or I have one in them,” she said. “It's frustrating.”

“Lestrade was attracted to you,” he said.

“Do I want to know how you know this?” she asked with a groan, leaning back on her bed.

“It would be best if you don't,” he replied. “He is no longer attracted to you, however. And John never had an attraction towards you. You are not his type. And Lestrade's new subordinate does not appear to have any romantic intentions towards you either. I don't think you're his type either.”

“This conversation just keeps getting better,” she said sourly.

“Does it matter that they're not attracted to you?” he asked, sounding as though he was genuinely curious. “You aren't attracted to any of them.”

“Well, I suppose it doesn't,” she conceded.

He was quiet for a moment. “I am not one to give advice of a romantic nature,” he said. “But just because a few men do not desire your company in that way doesn't mean all men find you undesirable.”

“Well, so long as I have Sherlock playing knight protector I won't find out who does, now will I?” she asked.

“He's doing it to keep you safe,” he replied. “I think if anything happened to you he would never fully recover from it.”

“I'm not that important to him,” she said quietly.

“You are the most important woman in the world to him,” he countered. “He cares for you more than he does any other woman in his life. More than our mother, more than Mrs. Hudson...more than anyone. I think with you he can be more open, and that is something he desperately needs and he knows it.”

“And I made him feel horrible,” she said, her eyes wide. “God, I think I'm the bigger idiot right now.”

“I can always tell him to go home immediately so you can apologize,” he said.

“I wouldn't know where to start right now,” she replied.

“I would start with a simple 'I'm sorry.' Supposedly it does wonders.”

“Supposedly?” she asked.

“I rarely apologize so I don't have much experience with people's reaction to that phrase,” he said. “It doesn't seem to work with you. But I can't imagine Sherlock will be upset if you start with that.”

“I suppose.”

“Do you wish me to summon him back to Baker Street?” he asked.

“No, it's all right. I'll wait until he comes back.” She paused. “In a way this chat has actually helped. Thank you.”

“You're welcome. Just don't make it a habit. I have other business to attend to which is more important. I will speak with you again if there is a pressing need.”

She was just about to reply when she heard a click on the other end, indicating he had ended the call. She pulled her mobile away from her ear and stared at it before setting it down on the bed next to her. She hadn't realized she was important to Sherlock. She knew he cared, knew he wanted to keep her safe, but she had chalked that up to them being friends. Being told she was the most important woman in his life had been quite a shock. And she had been very short with him, which he didn't deserve. Having her snap at him had probably hurt him, and she felt horrible for doing that even if she hadn't quite intended to. She laid on her bed for a few more moments before getting up and heading into the kitchen. Times like these required puttering around in the kitchen to get her mind off things.

She decided to make a cheesecake from scratch. She had all the ingredients to make a currant swirl cheesecake, and that was her go to comfort food when she was stressed. She began putting it together and had just gotten the cheesecake part ready when she heard the front door open. She tensed slightly, pausing in her baking to turn towards the sitting room. She relaxed when she saw it was Sherlock, but only a little. “I'll go to my room,” he said, turning around.

“I didn't realize I was important to you,” she said, taking a step towards him, then another.

She could see him hang his head. “You spoke to my brother,” he said.

“I may have stood in view of the camera and told him you were an idiot,” she said. “And he may have called me immediately afterward.”

“It wasn't his place to say anything,” he said.

“But it was good to know,” she said. “I mean, I know we're friendly. I think we're actually friends at this point, to be honest. But I didn't realize quite how important to you I was. And it's all right that you didn't tell me. I know now, and I'll make sure I let you know how important you are to me, too.”

He was quiet for a few moments. “What exactly did he tell you?” he asked.

“That I was the most important woman in the world to you,” she said slowly.

“He would have said that,” he murmured. He lifted his head up and turned to look at her. “I don't think you got the full meaning of what my brother meant,” he said.

“There was more to it?” she asked, confused. She took a step closer. “Sherlock, what aren't you telling me?”

“I saw the way Teague's eyes lit up when he saw you, when you two spoke,” he said. “You interest him. Perhaps not romantically, but you are someone he wants to get to know. Or to know better, I should say.”

“What does this have to do with how you feel about me?” she asked as she frowned.

“Because I got jealous,” he said quietly. “And I have no reason to.”

Her eyes widened. “Do you...?” she asked, trailing off.

“There's no point if I do, in fact, fancy you,” he said quietly as he began to pace. “We aren't a good fit. You said that yourself and you're right. I will only hurt you. It's inevitable. So let's pretend I don't and simply remain friends.”

“I can't just ignore that, and neither can you,” she said. “I mean, that's--”

“Can we please just forget this conversation has taken place?” he asked, cutting her off. It almost sounded like he was pleading.

“No, I can't do that,” she said quietly.

He sighed. “I'll speak with Mycroft about keeping you somewhere else that's safe, then,” he replied. “I'll do my best to solve this as quickly as I can so you can have your life back. After that we can avoid each other unless absolutely necessary. I'll make sure that--:”

“Sherlock, shut up for a moment,” she said, cutting him off this time. He looked over at her and blinked. She shut her eyes. “Just how important am I to you? I want to hear it from you, not your brother.”

He was quiet for a moment. “I trust you, more than I trust anyone aside from John. I know you would never willingly hurt me, and if someone tried to make you hurt me you'd fight them tooth and nail. You are patient and kind, especially to me, even when I've given you no reason to be that way towards me. I don't want to see you hurt in any way, whether it's by cruel words or physical attack. I would defend you even if it cost me my life. I think of all the people I know, you and John are the two I care for the most, and I know I care about you in a different way than I care about him.”

She opened her eyes and looked at him, and she saw something she had never seen on his face before: uncertainty. He had laid it all out there for her and he was fully expecting her to rebuff him. She could see it in his face. She took a step closer to him. “You're very important to me, Sherlock,” she said.

“What do you mean by that?” he asked quietly.

She wrung her hands slightly. “I lied, in the cab. I mean, about you. Or rather, how I feel about you. I haven't moved on, not entirely. With all of this going on I thought we would be nothing more than friends, ever. I thought it was easier that way, safer. If we were just friends I could be around you without wanting more, without pushing for anything. I wouldn't be putting myself out there to have you reject me, just like every other man I've fancied has since you fell. Just like you used to before that.”

“I wouldn't reject you now,” he said. “I just don't want to hurt you, and that's what I'll end up doing. I know how I am. And I refuse to do that to you.”

She closed the gap between them. “I will put up with a lot, especially if you actually make an effort. I mean, you have to try really hard because if you don't you will end up hurting me. But I want to try. I think if we both make an effort we could make things work. I just need to know if you want to try.”

“Yes, I do,” he said, looking down at her.

“That's good,” she said, giving him a wide smile. “That's really good.”

“So what should we do first?” he asked.

“I'm in the middle of baking, but maybe when I'm done we could get takeaway and sit on the sofa and watch a film. It's not quite the same as an actual date, but it's a start. Does that sound good to you?”

He nodded slowly. “It does,” he said.

“Then that's what we'll do,” she said. She hesitated a moment, then leaned in and kissed his cheek. “You order the takeaway and I'll finish up what I'm doing and then we can pick out a film. It shouldn't take long.”

“What are you in the mood for?” he asked.

“Something spicy,” she said. She made her way back into the kitchen and he followed, looking at the menus. “I'll trust your judgment.”

“All right,” he said, giving her a small smile. She gave him another grin and then went back to preparing the cheesecake. This whole afternoon had certainly been a surprise, but she had hope that if they tried hard enough they could really make this work, and that pleased her so very much.

---
She was pleased with how things were going two weeks later, at least in regards to the beginning of an actual relationship with Sherlock. He had been quite tentative about a lot of things that he did or suggestions he made, and it almost seemed as though he was trying very hard to do what he thought would please her the most even if he didn't really want to do whatever it happened to be, which was very unlike him. She was trying to get him to see that it was all right for him to actually not be that way, that she didn't have to make each and every decision because he had say in things too, and it was all right if they disagreed on things. She pointed out that that was what compromise was for. Things had gotten better the last few days, though, so she was hoping that he was actually listening to what she had to say.

Today happened to be a day with everyone at home at Baker Street. The unrelenting rain outside was aiming to keep everyone indoors, and even though it was early she could see that it had the potential to be a day where everyone either got easily bored or easily irritated. John had made all of them breakfast and they were finishing up their meals when Mrs. Hudson came into the sitting room. “Dreary day, isn't it?” she asked.

“Absolutely dreary,” Sherlock said in a tone that showed he would much rather not be cooped up inside all day.

Mrs. Hudson gave him a look but he ignored it. Then she turned to Molly. “What's wrong?

“We had made plans to go out and since it's raining so heavily we've had to cancel them,” Molly said as she took her plate to the sink. “He's not happy about that.”

“Oh, dear,” Mrs. Hudson said. “I'm sorry for that.”

“Well, I've spent the last four days doing what I needed to do for the case Lestrade gave me,” he said as he pushed his plate away. “I felt Molly deserved a break from having to follow me everywhere.”

“We can always have a day in,” Molly said. “Even if it's a full house.”

“Well, isn't the point of going out on a date being alone with the person you're dating?” Sherlock countered. “Because being in a house full of people isn't exactly what we'd had planned.”

“It's going to be one of those days,” John said with a sigh.

“Well, dear, you just have to either make do with what you have or brave the weather to have that time alone,” Mrs. Hudson said as she came over to the table. “Molly obviously doesn't mind the change of plans. You shouldn't either.”

“That's not the point,” Sherlock said.

“Then what is the point?” Molly asked gently with a touch of curiosity.

“I'm absolutely wretched at all of this,” he said quietly. “Things aren't going right and this is yet another thing that's gone wrong.”

“You take that back right now,” Molly said, moving back towards the table. She looked rather upset. “If you were doing things wrong trust me, I would have said something already.”

“But you have,” he countered. “You stated that I have continuously been trying to please you at the cost of things I would prefer. You had to tell me that I could stop any time.”

“I didn't say it like that,” she said. “All I said is you got equal say in how things went and we could compromise instead of you trying to make me happy all the time.”

“And that was proof I was doing something wrong,” he said. “I'm no good at this relationship business.”

“Two weeks and they're having their first fight,” John mused. “It took longer than I'd thought it would.”

“Don't you start, John,” Molly said, glaring at him. Then she went back to her chair and sat down, looking at Sherlock. She took a deep breath and then reached over for his hand. “Yes, our plans had to change. I'm not happy about that because I was looking forward to them. And yes, you were being overly cautious at the start but you've worked on that. But just because there are very small problems does not mean you're absolute rubbish at being in this relationship. And remember, I've got the patience of a saint, or so I've been told. So don't think the worst, all right?”

He held her gaze and then nodded. “Very well.”

“Good,” she said, giving him a smile. She got a faint one in return and in response she squeezed his hand before letting go. Then turned to Mrs. Hudson, who had sat across from her. “So what plans did you have today, Mrs. Hudson?”

“I was going to pop out and get some groceries,” she said. “And then I was considering visiting some old friends. I still might. That's why umbrellas were invented, after all.”

“You'll need a very large umbrella to keep from getting soaked to the bone,” John said, getting up to take his own plate to the sink. “It's pouring down rain and there's a brisk wind.”

“Well, I think some things are worth getting your trousers soaked,” Mrs. Hudson said. Then she turned to Sherlock. “You two could simply wait and see if the weather clears up, you know. Then you won't have to spend the entire day cooped up at home.”

“Perhaps,” he said with a nod.

“Well, I like the idea of curling up on the sofa and watching a film or two while we wait to see if the weather gets better,” Molly said. “And if it doesn't we can just watch a few more films.”

“Are you sure you'll be happy spending your day like that?” Sherlock asked.

“Yes, Sherlock, I'm sure,” she replied with a nod. “The last four days I've been at crime scenes and St. Bart's and Scotland Yard and not really gotten to spend any time relaxing. As long as you're relaxing too then I'll be happy wherever we end up for the day.”

“Well, I think I'll make myself scarce,” John said. “Much as I'm happy for the two of you every time I see you together I feel very...” He trailed off.

“Single?” Molly suggested.

“I was going to say miserably alone, but they both mean the same thing,” he said with a grin. “Don't get me wrong, I'm glad the two of you are together. I've seen Sherlock have more genuine half smiles the last two weeks than I have since I met him. But I keep getting reminded I have crap luck with women when you two are acting...coupley.”

“We are not coupley,” Sherlock said. “It's not as though I've kissed her yet.”

“What?” Mrs. Hudson asked, looking shocked. John looked just as surprised as he came back to the table.

“Well, that is true, but I don't mind,” Molly said. “I'd rather have it not be something he's uncomfortable with. I can wait.”

“You really do have the patience of a saint,” John said.

“Two weeks, though?” Mrs. Hudson asked.

“See? I am making a hash of it,” Sherlock said, getting out of his chair and picking up his plate and coffee off the table. He went towards the sink and put his plate in it. “That's not normal.”

“I don't care if it's normal or not. Shagging after two weeks isn't normal, either, and I'm certainly not pushing for that,” Molly said. “I can wait.”

Mrs. Hudson looked from Molly to Sherlock, and back to Molly. “Then I think you're the perfect woman for him to date, dear. You know what's best.”

“Yes, I do,” she said with a nod. “So no one say another word about it.” Mrs. Hudson nodded, and then when Molly turned to John she saw him nodding as well. “Now then. New topic?”

“I think I'm going to brave the weather, head to the clinic and catch up on some paperwork,” John said, tilting his head slightly. “See if they need an extra hand as well. Most of the mothers come in after school lets out on a day like today, complaining their child might have a touch of pneumonia.”

“We aren't trying to run you off,” Molly said.

John gave her a small grin. “Well, catching up on my work isn't the only reason I want to go into work.”

“Is there someone you fancy, John?” Mrs. Hudson asked with a warm smile.

“I don't know if I fancy her, but she is interesting,” he said. “There's a woman in the building next door who generally seems to take her lunch around the same time I do. We've chatted a few times and I enjoy talking to her. I'm hoping she'll be there today, and since I probably won't be seeing patients I can take a longer lunch.”

“Good for you,” Molly said.

“Well, if John's willing to brave the weather I might be convinced to do the same,” Mrs. Hudson said. “Perhaps not getting the groceries, but I would like to see one of my dear friends who had surgery recently. She's at her home, recuperating in bed, and I know she'd love a visit.”

“Do you want to attempt to do the same?” Sherlock asked Molly as he came back to the table.

Molly shook her head. “John and Mrs. Hudson can take a chance getting soaked. I was serious when I said I'd like a day curled up on the sofa with you and a film or two. I think that would be a wonderful way to relax.”

“All right,” he said. He took a sip of his coffee. “If the weather clears up we could always go out later.”

“Exactly,” Molly said, giving him a wide smile.

“I should probably go change into something that isn't my pyjamas,” John said as he stood up again. “I don't think that's appropriate for work, even if it is my day off.”

“Good-bye, John,” Mrs. Hudson said.

“Bye,” Molly said.

“See all of you tonight,” John said as he got out into the sitting room and then left.

“I should probably get ready to go as well. I can make the rounds today, see quite a few friends if I leave early enough,” Mrs. Hudson said. She got up and then paused for a moment before giving Sherlock's shoulders a hug. Sherlock was surprised, but after a moment he put his hands on her arm. “As long as Molly's happy you're doing just fine. Just make sure she's happy, all right? Without making yourself miserable.”

“All right,” he said, looking up at her. Mrs. Hudson let go and then gave the two of them a wave before she left the room. He turned to look at Molly. “It appears as though part of our plans came to fruition, even though we aren't leaving here.”

“I'll admit, I'm glad it's not going to be all four of us stuck here today,” she said with a smile, reaching over for her own coffee. “But I really don't mind not going out today. And I don't mind the fact we're taking things slowly, either. I'd rather do that then rush into things and have you absolutely hate the way it's all happening.”

“You'll want it eventually. You would be well within your rights to demand it. And if I'm not comfortable then you'll grow bitter with our relationship, or you'll look for it somewhere else. Either way I will lose you and it will be my fault and my fault alone,” he said quietly.

She was quiet for a minute or two, and then she stood up. “Do you trust me?” she asked.

He nodded. “Implicitly.”

“Then move your chair back. I want to run an experiment.” He gave her a peculiar look but dutifully did what she had asked. She set her coffee down on the table and then stood up, moving closer to him. “I'm going to do things, and you're going to tell me how you feel on a scale of one to five, and maybe specifics about how you feel about them, if you want. One is very uncomfortable, two is moderately uncomfortable, three is neutral, four is moderately pleased and five is very pleased.” She moved in front of him. “Do you agree to the parameters of the experiment?”

“I do,” he said with a nod.

“All right then. Let's start.” The first thing she did was to move behind him, pressing her chest to the back of the chair as well as his upper back. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and set her chin near his collarbone. “Number?” she asked.

He thought for a moment. “Four. It's not so bad having you close.”

She kept her arms around him for a moment before she stood up more. She set her chin on the top of his head and moved her arms so they were around his neck, and her chest was pulled away more. . “Number?”

“Four as well,” he said. “Though I like the other position better.”

“I do too,” she said with a slight chuckle. She pulled away completely and then put her fingers on his head. Even though his hair had been cut and colored the curls were still visible. She began running her fingers through the curls, her fingertips and fingernails grazing his scalp. “Number?”

“Five,” he said in a tone of voice that made her file this particular act as something she should do if she wanted them to shag, whenever that might happen. She moved her hands away at that point and brushed her fingers along the back of his neck by accident. “That's a four,” he said. “That area is quite sensitive.”

“I wasn't even trying,” she said with a smile.

“I liked that,” he said.

“Then I'll remember that.” She moved her hands along the shoulder blades, kneading the muscles slightly. He felt rather tense so she used her thumbs on the tough spots, trying to rub out the tension she felt near his neck. Finally she just moved her hands up and massaged his neck, watching him relax. “Number?” she asked.

“Five,” he replied. “You make remarkably good use of your hands.”

“I took a few massage therapy classes in my free time,” she said with a smile. “I could give you a full body massage if I could get my table from home.”

“I say we brave the rain and go get it,” he murmured as she began to move back down to his shoulders. “And perhaps after you have given me one I could give you one.”

“Do you know how to give massages?” she asked.

“I have had minimal experience but I'm a quick learner. I can learn from what you do to me.”

“I'll consider leaving Baker Street to go get it,” she said. “It's been a very long time since I've gotten a full body massage.”

“I would like to try to make sure that you feel as good as I do now,” he said, looking up at her. “It's only fair.”

“Well, I have to stop now because there are more experiments to run,” she said. He looked quite disappointed at that. Then she leaned in. “I can always do this again later, you know.”

“Do you promise?” he asked.

“I promise.” She pulled away from behind him and moved next to him. After a moment she sat down on his lap, facing the kitchen, and then she leaned into him and rested her head near the crook of his neck while putting an arm around his waist. “Number?”

“Three,” he said. “Possibly three and a half. This is a rather awkward position and it doesn't feel quite right.”

She nodded and got up. She moved away, moving in front of him and then straddled his lap. She sat down and moved as close as she could, wrapping her arms around his neck. “Number?” she asked.

“Four,” he said as he hesitantly began to run a hand up and down her back. “We're almost face to face.”

“We definitely are,” she said with a smile. “I mean, you're a bit taller than me. I'd say about twenty-two centimeters? When you're sitting down and I'm sitting like this we can be face to face better.”

“I actually like you sitting this way,” he murmured.

“You won't when your thighs start to go numb,” she said, chuckling softly. She pulled back slightly but he tightened his hold on her. “Sherlock?”

“Am I allowed to do something for this series of experiments?” he asked.

She nodded slowly. “All right. What do you need me to do?”

“Move as close as you can,” he said. She shifted, standing up slightly and moving forward more before settling back on his legs. Now she was slightly more raised up than he was. He ran a hand up her back to the back of her neck, and she responded by leaning in more. He eased her head down until their mouths were very close, and then he stretched up slightly to kiss her. It was very soft, very tentative, but she was so happy he had done that. She increased the pressure just a little, and after a moment she opened her mouth slightly while moving her hands to frame his face. Finally they pulled apart to catch their breath. “Number?” he asked, looking up at her, slightly uncertain.

“Ten,” she said, giving him the widest smile she'd worn in weeks. “I think we need to run another experiment, though. Just to make sure this one was the most successful. I think we should stand up for the new experiment, though.”

He nodded. “I could agree to that.” She got off of him and stood up, and he followed. When he was fully upright he reached over and pulled her close, leaving a small amount of space between them. He settled his hands on her waist and she put her arms around his neck. After a moment they both leaned in and their lips met. This kiss was only slightly less tentative, but it was still nice. If he'd never had any experience kissing someone he was a natural, she decided. When they were done they were both breathing hard. “I think that was also a ten,” he said, moving his hands to pull her closer to him.

“Then that particular experiment shows me you are an excellent kisser,” she said. “I think at various points throughout the day we should run more experiments, just to be sure.”

“Of course,” he said with a grin. “That's the only way to prove it scientifically.”

“Well, for now, let's take a break and pick a film to watch,” she said. “Then we can experiment again while in a new environment.” His own grin grew and she smiled back. Yes, it had all definitely been worth the wait, she decided. She hadn't expected him to be comfortable with that but she was glad he had done it. Now that they had the question would become how often they could actually do that, because this was something she honestly wouldn't mind doing as often as possible.