Rated a Hard T for partial nudity.

Based off of a tweet that says: 'my wife's in the kitchen, wine-drunk, making cookies while topless. being married is dope.'


Sherlock had been away for a week on a case; it was practically a nine…at first. By the end, he had solved it, but was disappointed with how uninteresting and plainly simple it ended up being. Outside of the door, he could hear Ed Sheeran being played on Molly's turntable. Molly. The bright side to such a disappointing case was coming home earlier than expected to his wife.

Upon entering 221B, he noticed an open bottle of wine on the coffee table. He hung up his coat and scarf quickly, also ridding himself of his suit jacket, wanting to surprise her with his early arrival. Sherlock found her in the kitchen, her half empty glass of wine on the table. From her ungraceful movements, he deduced she was slightly wine drunk. He watched as she pulled a batch of ginger nut biscuits out of the oven. She was wearing his blue dressing gown, her hair in a messy bun.

"Hello, Mrs. Holmes," he whispered in her ear, wrapping his arms around her waist. Upon placing his hands on her stomach, he discovered the dressing gown was open and she wasn't wearing a thing beneath it aside from her knickers.

"Hello to you too," she smiled, turning her head to kiss him. He continued to hold her as she placed the biscuits on a cooling rack. Afterwards, she turned to face him and embraced him in her arms. "How was the case?"

"A bit of a disappointment, unfortunately," Sherlock sighed, continuing to hold her close. "I missed you, honeybee." He lightly trailed his fingers over her back on the inside of the dressing gown.

"Mmm, I missed you too, bumblebee," she replied, nuzzling her nose against his neck, breathing in his natural scent. Sherlock loved these quiet moments with her. They began to sway gently to the music as they held on to one another. A small intake of breath came from his mouth as he felt her lips caress his skin at his pulse point. All he could think about was how much he loved this woman before him. I love you. I love you. I love you. A small giggle broke the silence making him realize he had said that out loud all three times.

"I love you, Molly Holmes," he told her, scooping her up in his arms.

"I love you too, my sweet husband," Molly spoke softly. He pressed his lips to hers tenderly, reveling in the feel of her soft skin against him. The dressing gown slipped off of her left side and he trailed his lips down her neck and onto her shoulder as he carried her to his chair, setting her upon his lap. He trailed his fingers down her side, eliciting giggles from her, knowing she was ticklish there. He pressed a kiss to the top of her breast before capturing her lips once more, their noses bumping into each other.

"All I want is the taste that your lips allow," Sherlock sang quietly to her along with the music. He never had much interest in modern music, but Molly's favourite artist had grown on him. She sang with him a bit until eventually falling asleep in his arms. He kissed her forehead before, eventually, carrying her into their bedroom and covering her up. He cleaned up in the kitchen and stored the biscuits in a cookie jar, but not before taking one to eat. Slipping into bed beside her afterward, he wrapped his arms around her, burying his face in her strawberry scented hair.

Sherlock absolutely loved being married to Molly. He couldn't even believe there was a time he had refused to live without such beautiful companionship, instead choosing to be 'married to his work.' He preferred the petite pathologist in his arms, with her silky chestnut tresses, big brown eyes and a heart full of unconditional love for him. She made him happy and he only hoped he made her just as happy. And he loved her, oh how he loved her. She was his home and he was hers, always.