A/N: Not Beta'd. Written at 1:00 a.m. so there might be mistakes (obviously).

A/N: Inspired by "Taylor Swift - Wildest Dreams", written while listening to "Lana Del Rey - Music To Watch Boys To" (Don't listen to it too much, it's f**king addicting.) Been a long time since I've written a Sherlolly story. So I tried to different concept this time. This is the first time I tried a writing style and concept like this. Constructive critism is always welcome, but I'll delete any review that is absurdly rude. I hope you enjoy this piece.

Disclaimer: I own nothing but this fanfiction. No copyright infridgement intended.

She kept imagining him and his hands roaming through her body, finding the weakest spots, discovering everything... Kissing her like there was no tomorrow, touching her there, reminding her that she is indeed a grown, powerful woman who is willing to give all she had for the man she loved. Moaning his name again and again, not being mousy or shy. Listening to his breath, his words in her ear as he sucks on her earlobe. Her whole body arching, her mind going numb with lust. Then him being on top of her, surrendering to him; then being on top of him, trying to conquer his heart, his mind... And succeeding.

This was her wildest dream.

A dream she has lived through for seven years.

A dream she saw every night she went to bed.

A dream she woke up from with tears on her face.

A dream that made her feel so alive and so dead inside.

Knowing the fact that nothing of that will ever happen but imagining it oh so wildly, so detailed...

Looking into his eyes everyday, remembering her dream everytime she looked at him.

It was so difficult; to look at him and not think about her fantasies. Yet, those cold blue eyes were always going to be an obstacle which she could never break.

Humming the song on the radio as she did a post-mortem on a guy she couldn't care less about...

(Cause I like you a lot)

Live to love you

And I love to love you

And I live to love you, boy

Live to love you

"Stop it, Molly. It gets more and more humiliating every time. Like seriously, I can see it all in your eyes. Your fantasies, your wild dreams... Aren't you tired of dreaming it every night you go to bed? Because I am pretty tired of—"

She punched him right in the face without doubting her action. She wasn't going to let him continue. No, not in front of everyone. Not again.

It was fucking Christmas. Again.

He was doing it again.

But why? God, why?

Humiliating her in front of everyone, this time even Mycroft was there.

She wasn't going to stay there and look at his now bleeding nose.

She wasn't even satisfied with the fact that she had managed to punch him that hard.

No punch, no nothing could hurt more than what she was going through.

This time it was impossible for her to pick up the pieces of her heart from the cold marble floor and put it all together.

It was impossible.

He's so tall and handsome as hell

He's so bad but he does it so well

I can see the end as it begins

For two months and eight days, she avoided him at all cost. And apparently, so was he.

She had only seen him once in that timeline. She saw him standing outside the morgue door and she immediately went back upstairs, to the office.

She had no courage to face him.

He had no courage to face her.

They didn't see each other for five months straight.

In the end, Sherlock requested another pathologist from Mike Stamford.

Then came another girl, with brown eyes and black hair, tall and thin.

She was nothing like Molly.


It was only the first week when Sherlock had his first outburst.

"For God's sake, how can you be so narrow-minded? Can't you see he obviously died from arsenic poisoning? Who the hell let you become a pathologist?"

The girl left the lab in tears as John entered the scene.

"Great. Being a dick to Molly wasn't enough so you're going to be a dick to the new girl too?"

Sherlock narrowed his eyes at her and shot him a glare that screamed Shut up, John.

John didn't push it further. There was nothing he could do anyway.

Sherlock finally had the courage to talk to her. To tell her he was sorry for his behaviour.

He honestly didn't intend to break her heart.

He was having a really bad day that Christmas. He wasn't able to catch the killer in time and the guy killed his client before Sherlock could do something about it.

He was too late.

Then they told him they were going to celebrate Christmas.

He was in no mood for a fucking celebration. As simple as that.

But no, John had to push it. He had to force him to celebrate Christmas with them.

He shouldn't have.

It was all John's fault.

Then he saw it. Like everytime he did.

Molly came to the party, all dressed well and looking nice. She hadn't worn something like she wore that Christmas.

They said their hi's and their eyes locked for only a few seconds.

The rest of the evening was okay but all hell broke loose on the giving-each-other-ridicilous-gifts part.

She handed him the box with a shy smile and bit her lip. He looked at her with a small, forced smile as she took the box from her. Their hands touched and he knew she did it on purpose.

Suddenly, something sparked in him.

His eyes narrowed and he stared at her hazel eyes.

He could see it all, it was as clear as a crystal.

Her pupils were dilated, her breathing quickened, her lashes flickered... It was obvious these actions weren't just because she was looking at him.

She was remembering a memory.

Or rather, a dream.

Her eyes were flickering between his lips and his eyes.

A dream it is.

A fantasy.

It's been years and he's always seen it.

The way she looked at him every morning.

He just ignored it.

Then he couldn't hold himself anymore and burst out his thoughts. Well, not his thoughts actually. He was being rude and he was doing it on purpose.

He needed to get rid of this fire inside him and yelling at Molly seemed like the right choice at hat moment.

It was one of the biggest mistakes he'd ever done and he realised it almost immediately.

But it was too late.

A punch to his face and she was gone.

He regretted everything he had said. He regretted ever saying them.

She was surprised when she found him at her door. Standing there with all his charm, all his charisma.

She wasn't going to be fooled by that.

"What are you doing here?" she asked as she opened her door to her tiny flat, ignoring him all the while.

He didn't give her an answer and just went into the flat after her.

He just wasn't good with apologies.

He didn't know where to start, what to say, how to say it...

He should have gotten advice from John.

Molly's brows furrowed as he kept being silent. They stood in the middle of her living room for five minutes, only their breathing sound filling up the room.

"What do you want?" she finally asked with a tired voice. She wasn't going to play his game... whatever game it was.

He stared right into her eyes.


Oh for God's sake...

Was he for real?

"Excuse me?" she stuttered.

Her voice was weak, her shoulders were dropped, her face was tired...

"I cannot cope with that idiot girl. I need you back as my pathologist."

Oh so that's what he meant...

"Well, it was you who requested another pathologist, so... That's nothing I can fix." She stated as she made her way to the kitchen...

...only to be stopped by him.

She wanted to walk past him but he blocked her path.

She tried again and this time he grabbed her wrist.

"I need you."

Three words.

Three words to convey his feelings.

She wasn't just a valuable asset for him.

She was something more.

He just couldn't accept that.

After the fall they've grown closer and that kind of scared him.

So he put a distance between the two of them.

Then he did what he did at the Christmas party and destroyed everything.

His intention has never been for things to come to this.

He gritted his teeth as he waited for her to say something. Anything.

But she just stood there, dumbfounded.

"Why?" was all she could ask.

Now, that was one hell of a question.

A question he knew he couldn't answer now.

Not with words at least.

He just moved his body closer to hers, and then suddenly they were kissing.

Kissing with such passion she didn't know existed in herself.

He pushed her against the wall and she wrapped her legs around his waist.

He sucked on her neck, hearing her moan his name like a beautiful song.

He carried her to the bedroom, took off all her clothes, letting her take off his.

When he went inside her, it was something else. An emotion he never felt before.

He couldn't name it but he wasn't going to try to. He was just going to enjoy the moment.

Their moans and sweet, dirty words filled the room for the rest of the night.

Say you'll see me again

Even if it's just in your wildest dreams

She knew it had all been a dream.

There was no other way that she could describe what had happened.

Or she thought happened.

She touched the stone cold pillow beside her and opened her eyes.

He wasn't there.

All his clothing were gone.

She immediately got up from her bed and went to the living room.

Even his scent was gone.

As if he had never been there.


He had never been there.

It was just another wild dream.

A dream so real this time that she cried on the living room floor for an hour straight.

She was like a ghost at work that day.

She had been exhausted.

The dream-sex was so good that she could still taste him on her lips.

Her dreams were getting more and more realistic, more and more graphical.

She had to stop her wild imagination immediately.

Or else she was going to lose her sanity.

Then he entered the lab.

Took of his scarf with a swift move, all the while watching her.

Her eyes opened wide with shock, her jaw dropped.

She saw the hickeys on his neck.

So visible on his milk white skin.

Then he winked at her.

He fucking winked at her.

She swallowed hard.

So it hadn't been a dream after all...

I said, "No one has to know what we do, "

His hands are in my hair, his clothes are in my room

And his voice is a familiar sound,

Nothing lasts forever but this is getting good now...

Hope to see you on another Sherlolly fanfiction.

xoxo Louvreangel