A/N: So after the emotional hurricane that was HLV and struggling with all my (unrequited) Sherlolly feels and all that painful jazz, my mind has now settled a bit and my heart has resumed its regular schedule of beating to present to you this little one-shot.

:: This one-shot is based on His Last Vow. Avoid reading this if you want to avoid spoilers. ::


Visitor

When she walked in, his eyes were closed and his breathing seemed laboured. She took care to be quiet. He was not one who rested. So now that he was, she certainly wasn't going to disturb him.

However, she was right. He certainly wasn't one for resting. The moment she approached his bed, his eyes opened and looked right at her.

She didn't realise she would be so choked up with emotion looking at him lying in bed with tubes and machines strapped to him. She didn't realise how heavy her heart sank when she saw him wince every time he tried to breathe deeply or turn his neck.

"So…you…you're all right?" she said, trying to hold back her emotion.

"Of course…" he said softly, wincing as he tried to sit up.

"Good. Good…" she said, smiling through her glistening eyes. He could see the tears forming and he smiled gently at her, almost apologetically.

"You remembered then, didn't you?" she asked him, gingerly reaching to touch his hand.

"I never forget." he replied, still smiling.

"That's a relief…" She let out a soft laugh to disguise a sob.

"You're a good teacher, Molly." said Sherlock, his fingers lifted to reciprocate the touch of her hand over his.

"And you're…" she could barely speak now. Sobs were threatening to rob her of words.

"Alive." he said, now properly wrapping his fingers around her hand, "And it's because of you."

"I suppose…" she answered, quickly wiping away stray tears.

"It's always because of you, Molly." he whispered, his clear eyes looking earnestly into hers.

"Please be careful…won't you?" she whispered in reply.

"I'll try, Molly Hooper," said Sherlock with a bright smile, "I promise I'll try."

"I don't ever want to see you in a morgue…again, Sherlock Holmes, do you hear me?" Molly warned with an odd mix of tearful ferociousness. "At least not without prior notice."

He laughed at her last sentence. And so did she. It was always going to be their little secret.

Molly leaned over and planted a gentle kiss on his forehead before whispering goodbye to him. Just as she reached the door of his hospital room, he called out to her.

"Molly…"
"Yes?" she replied swiftly, her lovely, long ponytail whipping round.
"Have you got any spare room?"

The corners of Molly's mouth lifted into a little mischievous smile.

"That depends. Who's it for?" she asked.
"Well, if you don't mind a visitor who's a little worse for wear but plans to sneak out of his hospital room in a few hours and who might need medical assistance every so often…"

Molly rushed to him, placed both hands on the side of his face and kissed his mouth gently, allowing her lips to linger as long as she wanted, relishing the warmth of his mouth on hers.

"I haven't got any spare room…" she whispered to him.
"Oh…" he replied with a frown and genuinely crestfallen.
"But if you're okay with it, there's always my room."

She kissed him once more and he could feel her smile against his lips. She was more intoxicating than she realised. Sherlock made a mental note to let her know - one day.

Maybe he'd tell her tonight.

End