Knock. Knock. Knock.
Knowing exactly who it is, she doesn't stop brushing her teeth. She walks out the bathroom, steps over Toby, unlocks the front door and lets Sherlock in. She walks quickly back to the bathroom as Sherlock begins to remove his coat and scarf.
She spits into the sink and turns the faucet on. "I thought you'd be here earlier," Molly shouts from within the bathroom.
"Janine insisted that I have dinner with her. Hello Toby," he says, bending down to pet the cat as he brushes up against his leg in greeting. He can hear Molly gargle and then spit. She exits the bathroom and enters the living room walking directly over to the side table next to her couch. She grabs a key from the drawer and hands it to him.
"What's this for?", he asks, looking at the silver key in his palm.
"So I don't have to keep on waiting up for you." She looks down avoiding his gaze. "How long do you reckon you'll be dating Janine? Just out of curiosity."
"However long it takes for her to allow me access into her bosses office," he replies, nonchalant.
Molly sighs and then says, "It's not right Sherlock. You shouldn't use people like that. She might really fall for you."
He looks at her and says, "That's the plan."
"You should go about it a different way," she says, looking up at him.
"Why's that?", Sherlock asks, curious as to the answer.
"You're letting her believe you have actual feelings for her."
He dismisses that with a wave of his hand and walks over to her couch. "I occasionally have dinner with her. She's the one who instigates all of the physical contact. I merely allow it to happen." He's sitting on her couch now, his eyes closed and hands together, thinking. "Any feelings she believes I have for her are her own mistake."
She stares at him in disbelief and then walks away leaving him in her living room and goes to bed.
She's woken up an hour later by Sherlock. He's gently shaking her shoulder and looking down at her.
"What is it Sherlock?" She blinks up at him in confusion.
"Your sofa is too small, I can't properly lie down and think."
"That's not my fault. You have a perfectly good couch at yours," she says, and she snuggles further into the sheets.
"I can't think there can I? Move." He's actually pushing her now.
She grabs her pillow and sits up, annoyed. She's about to stand up when Sherlock places a hand on her shoulder.
"Where are you going?" he asks, confused.
Her mouth drops open, wondering what is actually going on in his brain. She points to the door and says, "To the couch."
"Why?"
She raises her eye brows at him and says, "Because you are literally moving me so you can lie down."
He scoffs at her, "Don't be ridiculous. I'm only requesting that you move over. I may need you here just incase."
"Incase of what?" She shakes her head, trying to wake herself up a bit more.
"I might have to talk things through, it helps me sometimes if I can speak to someone. You don't have to respond. Your presence is enough." His knee is already on the bed, and if she doesn't move over now, he may actually just lay on top of her.
She slides over, muttering to herself, then lays back down and settles in on her side, facing him. After a few moments of silence she asks, "Why do you allow her to stay in your flat if you're not even there?"
He's on his back, hands together under his chin and staring up at the ceiling. "She enjoys sleeping in my bed and wearing my shirts. Helps her to think we have a stronger connection," he says.
"She never asks you stay?", Molly asks him.
"She has," he mumbles closing his eyes. "Told me to hold her while she slept. Hence why I'm here so often."
They are quiet again and she's about to fall asleep when Sherlock quietly says, "Where's Tom?"
She opens her eyes and looks at him, his eyes still closed. She answers back, just as quiet, "He's in Edinburgh. Working. He'll be back in a few days."
"Ah." Its quiet and she's about to fall asleep again when he asks, "Does he still become upset when I stay over?"
She sighs, annoyed, "Yes, sometimes. I was about to fall asleep Sherlock."
He completely dismisses her. "And you've explained to him that there is no reason to be?"
She rolls onto her back and looks up out the window next to her bed. "Yes. I've told him we're just friends. But he still gets upset."
He nods his head, "Are you going to tell him I came over?"
"Probably not." She rolls onto her other side now, her back towards Sherlock and hugs the blanket closer to her.
"I see." A few more minutes pass and then, "Molly wha-"
"Sherlock! I'm trying to sleep!" she says loudly, clearly annoyed with him.
"You don't have to answer. I'm merely thinking out loud."
"Then stop thinking in a way that sounds like you're asking me questions," she says, sighing louder then necessary.
He's quiet for a minute and then, "Are you always this cranky when tired?"
She doesn't reply. Just breathes in and slowly exhales.
"Right."
She wakes up before her alarm. That's rare for her. Usually only happens when she's fully rested and there's no way that's happened, considering she was sharing her bed with Sherlock Holmes. She keeps her eyes closed and hugs the duvet closer to her, breathing in deeply. The sheets smell of fresh linen and she snuggles into them a bit more. They move, and her eyes snap open. Everything hits her at once. The warmth, the not so soft pillow under cheek, the strong thumping of a heart beat under her ear, the hand resting on her waist and the arm hugging her close to his body.
She looks up at his face, surprised to see him looking down at her, eyes not as hard as she expected them to be.
"Sorry," she mumbles, looking down and pushing herself up into a seated position. "You should've woke me."
"No need to apologize," he says, sitting up and resting on his elbows. "And you made it perfectly clear last night that waking you is not something I should do."
She looks down at the bed, avoiding his gaze. "Yes, well, I didn't mean to hug you. I know you don't like that sort of thing."
"It's fine, Molly." he says, more gently then she's ever heard him speak. "I didn't mind."
She looks up, and Sherlock is just looking at her, his eyes soft and a small smile on his face.
"Sher-"
Bzzz. Bzzz. Bzzz.
She's interrupted by her alarm and when she looks back, Sherlock is still looking at her, ignoring her alarm entirely. Eventually, Molly reaches over him and shuts the alarm off on her night stand. She's already leaning across him and decides to complete the journey and crawls over him, getting off the bed.
He hasn't taken his eyes off her, and she can feel it, boring into her. She looks down, breathes in, looks back up and smiles at him.
"I have to get ready for work. You're welcome to stay if you need. Just remember to lock up when you leave." She turns and goes towards the bathroom without another glance back in his direction.
"Of course," Sherlock replies, to no one in particular.