Molly kisses him back hungrily and a small noise leaves her mouth as she feels him palming her breast through her tank. Alert! Sherlock Holmes is touching your breast. Sherlock Holmes is touching your breast. And it's not even on accident like that one time he reached over her in the lab for a slide and his arm grazed her.

She wonders if her brain will ever reach a point where it's not totally flabbergasted by all of this. She wonders if he still thinks her breasts are too small.

Her own hands slide up his shoulders and hang on. One of her thumbs slide over his neck and feels his pulse racing. She's sure her's is thrumming a similar staccato.