Before I Fall ~ Sherlolly

A/N: This is the first Sherlock thing I've written, so it might be ooc. I'm also half asleep as I'm writing this. Bare with me.

~~~

"Molly... I think I'm going to die."

The chestnut-haired woman standing across from him did not ask how, did not ask why; she did not panic, she simply understood. With a determined look, she inquired, "What do you need?"

The single word rolled across Sherlock Holmes' lips silkily. "You."

A sharp intake of breath was Molly Hooper's reaction.

"What do you mean?"

"I. Need. You." He drawls calmly, lightly punctuating each word. His deep voice echoes thoughout the morgue, filling the silence between them.

"All those times I've been rude to you, all those times I've deduced a negative thing about one of your boyfriends, all those times I've pushed you around-have been for a reason. When you stood up to me at the Christmas party, it gave me exactly what I was looking for," he says fiercely, slowly closing the distance between them. "The fire in your eyes when you scolded me for saying such horrible things, the way you held yourself-that is the ferocity I admire. So tonight," he says in a low voice, placing his hands on her hips, "before I fall," Molly didn't quite know what that meant yet, but she would in due time. He pulled her closer to him.
"I shall fall for you."

Before she can react, he pulls her in and places his lips upon hers.

It's been a long while since Sherlock's kissed anyone, and he was one-hundred percent sure he deleted it from his memory. Yet he moves his lips with Molly's soft ones with swift expertise, only pausing for a split second to breathe in her scent.

First, Molly froze, flabbergasted at the fact that the man she had been in love with (very much one-sided) for who knows how long was now kissing her, the night before his death. Then, Molly kissed back, linking her arms up around his neck and pressing her lips back to his.

The kiss is slow and passionate. Sherlock is putting as much emotion into it as possible-Molly knows he's not completely a machine. She knew from the moment he kissed her cheek at the Christmas party that he was not unfeeling.

Alas, that was about as much emotion that he showed, up until now.

Molly moved her hands up to tangle them in thick black locks, while Sherlock pressed his hands to her back to pull her closer. With their bodies pressed close together and lips intertwined, they shared what Molly thought might be their first and last kiss.

When they broke apart, Sherlock kept her close, pressing his forehead against hers. Sherlock had never been this close with a woman, he had never felt the desire. Yet in this position, with labored breaths breathing the same air, standing close to Molly Hooper, Sherlock felt something he hasn't felt in a long time.

It was not an epiphany; not a cold an unfeeling machine turned warm and passionate. Sherlock simply admired Molly, enjoyed being in her presence, and finally thought to show it.

In a low whisper, still close to her, he explains everything. How he will fake his death for the sake of the few people he cares about, to complete Mortiarty's plan. He tells her that it is not one-hundred percent foolproof, how there is a chance he might not make it. Molly understands.

He does not tell her he loves her.

Molly understands.

Regretfully, Sherlock states that he must be on, and with a fleeting kiss he is off to face death. Sherlock's words up to their passionate lock of lips still ring in her ears.

"Tonight, before I fall, I shall fall for you."