xx

"I cannot believe you said that. You promised you'd behave!"

The Holmes family had just returned from a birthday party for Molly's mother and, naturally, it had ended in disaster. Sherlock and her mother have never seen eye to eye but tonight was the last straw. Molly avoided looking at Sherlock as she carefully tucked their daughter into her bed. Sherlock scowled and rolled his eyes as he moved into the living room. After Molly had finished in John's old room, she followed him and closed the door quietly, staring daggers with her arms on her hips. Sherlock took a deep breath, still scowling.

"She started it…she said I was useless! Useless…shows just how much that woman truly knows. Anyway, all I said was happy birthday-"

"You called my mother an idiot, Sherlock. You said 'you may be a year older but you are certainly not wiser'. Then you went on to needlessly deduce her…"

Sherlock turned to his angry wife and shrugged, ruffling his hair. Molly raised her eyebrows, refusing to fall for his charms. He sighed as he stood up.

"I do not see you having a go at your mother for her words…"

Molly shook her head, keeping her voice low so as not to wake Francesca. Honestly, it's like talking to a child.

"She didn't mean it…really. She just likes to wind you up…you, on the other hand, do mean it."

Sherlock shrugged once more as he approached his wife. He took her hands and smiled, hoping she'd melt into his arms. After 3 years of marriage, however, Molly was not as 'infatuated' as she used to be. Well, she was still human of course, and wasn't as immune as she liked to think. Molly smiled back and leaned in closer.

"Just apologise and we can forget all about it…and go to bed…"

Sherlock bit his lip at her raised eyebrow. It would be easy to just apologise and drag her into the bedroom but he was adamant he hadn't done anything wrong. He'd told the truth, hadn't he? Sherlock smiled and whispered softly to Molly.

"I would…but I have done nothing wrong…it was the truth…"

Molly bit her lip and moved closer to whisper into his ear, causing Sherlock to shudder.

"Well, take a good look, baby…'cause you're not getting any…until you apologise."

Sherlock frowned as Molly turned away with a wink and walked into their bedroom. Sherlock collapsed onto the sofa with a dramatic sigh, trying to ignore the feeling that had settled itself in his stomach. She's been talking to Mary Watson again.

"Daddy, Daddy!"

Sherlock was awoken abruptly in the morning by Francesca launching herself onto his chest, pulling at him. Shaking himself awake, he rubbed his eyes and sat up, moving the child towards the end of the sofa.

"What's the matter…?"

"Mummy…she wants you…"

Sherlock sighed and picked the little girl up, swinging her around whilst she giggled in delight. He brushed her curly black hair out of her big brown eyes, smiling at their familiarity. He put her down onto the sofa and tossed her the television remote. The little girl tapped at the buttons and settled into the corner of the sofa, clutching her teddy bear and sucking her thumb.

"Fine. Where is she?"

"In the bath…"

Sherlock groaned but Francesca was too busy watching some children's program to notice. Sherlock cautiously approached the bathroom, not knowing what to expect. He pushed the door open immediately stopped breathing. Molly was surrounded by bubbles and was shooting him and inviting look.

"There's plenty of room…if you have something to say…"

Sherlock swallowed but managed to shake his head. Molly looked disappointed as she leaned her head further back, exposing her neck. Sherlock felt himself positively radiating most of the heat in the room, despite it being hot anyway. Molly's eyes lit up and Sherlock realised, with an annoying lurch, that she had an idea. She picked up a bottle and shook it, suggestively smirking at her husband, still rooted to the spot.

"Do my back, will you?"

Sherlock moved towards the edge and knelt beside the bath, taking in the clean smell and her strawberry shampoo. Molly slowly moved forwards as Sherlock took the bottle with a nervous gulp. She smiled; it had already been four days since they last slept together and they were both feeling the effects. Sherlock was stubborn, though, and getting him to apologise was not going to be easy. However, she hoped he would soon…she was getting rather desperate. Mary had told her it was an effective method for ensuring 'control' and Molly had decided it couldn't hurt to give it a go. How wrong she had been…she didn't know how Mary managed it. Hmmm, maybe Mary doesn't crave her husband like I do mine…either that, or John had terrible will power…dear god, what have I done? I can't stop now…what'll that teach us? Nothing. Let's just see where this goes…

Molly was pulled from her thoughts by Sherlock leaning forwards and placing his cold hands onto her back, causing a gasp to escape her rather loudly. He began massaging his hands in circles and Molly was sighing and moaning softly. Sherlock moved his lips to her ear and breathed tenderly into her ear.

"It is not going to work…"

Molly smirked seductively and bit her lip and Sherlock's hands moved towards her front, getting lower and lower each time. She turned her head and shot him a warning look. He stood up suddenly and Molly couldn't help the impatient moan fall from her lips. Sherlock licked his lips delicately and smirked.

"What was that?"

Molly shook her head and gestured towards the rack, desperately trying not to look flustered. Her voice shook when she spoke.

"Pass…me a towel, please."

Sherlock strode quickly over and smirked in delight when he pulled off a tiny face towel instead. He turned and held it up, with a smirk and, to his horror, Molly stood up and stepped out of the bath, slowly. Sherlock watched as the bubbles dripped down her sensual body and he suddenly felt very uncomfortable. blinked rapidly, grinning broadly, as she stood still for a moment, winking at him before leaning past him and taking a much larger one. Before she could wrap it around herself, however, Sherlock had grabbed her wrist and slammed her against the wall, effectively abandoning the towel in the process. Sherlock pinned her hands above her head and Molly wriggled slightly, grinding against him as she did so earning herself an animalistic growl from her husband. The apology was close to falling from his lips…she could sense it. Sherlock could smell her everywhere and it was getting harder and harder to resist. Molly turned away as he leaned in, a devious smirk on her face.

"Ah, ah…you can look…but you can't touch…unless you say those little words…"

Sherlock glanced upwards where his hands were pinning her and Molly bit her lip and shrugged. Well…much, anyway. Sherlock opened his mouth and Molly's heart leapt in her chest but the door began to creak open. Sherlock jumped away from Molly, ruffling his hair and trying to cool himself down, whilst she dived immediately for the towel. Francesca was staring at Sherlock's phone in irritation, holding it out in front of her.

"Daddy! Uncle John wants you…it keeps making a noise…"

Sherlock took the phone with a sigh, fully aware Molly was leaning next to his ear. Francesca grumbled as she hurried back to the television.

"Do hurry and apologise…I can't take this much longer."

Sherlock shivered as Molly sauntered past him, the towel wrapped firmly around her now. Sherlock sighed as he pulled the plug, draining the bath of the water before moving into the living room, his phone pressed to his ear.

"What do you want?"

"It's nice to hear from you too. Just wondering if you're free for lunch. We could take the kids to the park…"

Sherlock glanced towards Francesca, who was leaning across the sofa, sighing dramatically with her hands clasped under her chin and her eyes closed. Sherlock chuckled to himself.

"Yes, that sounds interesting…I'd like a word with you."

Sherlock hung up the phone without another word and turned the television off, and leaned down to speak gently to his daughter.

"How do you fancy playing with Hamish at the park?"

Francesca opened her eyes wide, reflecting her father's smile as she ran off to get dressed.

"It is all your wife's fault…she told Molly about that…you know."

Sherlock and John were sat on a bench, observing the children running frantically around. Sherlock's eyes scanned the various people coming and going, taking in different pieces of information as he did so. He was scowling into space, whilst John was smirking.

"Ah, I see. So, I take it things are going bump in the night, lately?"

Sherlock scowled at John who was giggling to himself. Sherlock rolled his eyes as he turned away. John cleared his throat and rubbed the back of his neck, irritation in his voice.

"Yeah, well, now you know how I feel…it's surprising how effective it is. Although, they do say, 'abstinence makes the heart grow fonder'."

Sherlock sighed but couldn't help but admit that this was true. It was very effective indeed and he had a good mind to march home and apologise to his wife right now. He shook his head, remembering that he was right, after all. Francesca ran up to them at the moment and pointed at a man in the corner, delight on her face.

"Daddy, that man asked me if I wanted a sweetie…"

Sherlock turned to John who looked horrified and Sherlock leaned forwards, his voice very serious.

"And what did you say?"

Francesca giggled in delight whilst John squirmed uncomfortably. Sherlock tapped his foot impatiently as Francesca tried to contain her excitement.

"I said…I said…my daddy will beat you up and put you in prison if you do that…he's a bad man, isn't he, Daddy?"

"Indeed he is…good girl, darling…," Sherlock turned to John as Francesca ran off to play with Hamish, "excuse me, will you?"

John nodded, impressed that a five year old was able to tell the man was a drug dealer. John watched as Sherlock approached the man and whispered something to him. John frowned as the man shook his head, his hands moving into his pockets and Sherlock grabbed him roughly. John raised his eyebrows as he realised Lestrade had appeared and was hauling the man away, but not before Sherlock's fist connected sharply with the dealer's face. Sherlock walked back over to John, shooting Francesca a wink as he did so. He massaged his fist as he collapsed next to John.

"It's a good job Lestrade showed up when he did…otherwise, I'd have killed him."

John smirked and rolled his eyes. After a moment of mumbled cursing and flexing, John relaxed and stretched his legs out.

"You knew, didn't you? Who he was?"

Sherlock nodded, an offended look on his face as he glanced up at John.

"Of course I did. I just wanted to see how long it would take Francesca…my good little girl…"

John raised his eyebrows in horror and Sherlock sighed with a small shrug.

"Come on, she wasn't in danger. I was right here…anyway, that man had an injury in his leg, it was obvious by the way he was holding himself. He wasn't going anywhere in a hurry. That man wasn't the cleverest, of course, but he was desperate. I text Lestrade and he arrived a moment after Francesca had informed me…I knew she wasn't going to accept it, she is, after all, my daughter, John…"

John shook his head, ignoring the fact that several of the mothers were glaring at their 'hero'. Sherlock Holmes…hero of the playground, you just don't make this stuff up. One of mothers bravely approached them; she was tall, attractive and redheaded. She flicked her hair behind her head and giggled manically, earning her an exaggerated sigh from the detective.

"Yes, it was brave, you're welcome and no, I will not sleep with you."

He didn't look up from examining his hand, but raised his ring hand slightly into the air. Sherlock's wedding ring glistened in the sun and the woman bustled off furiously, mumbling to herself. John shook his head…Sherlock Holmes, you never cease to amaze me.

Sherlock strolled into the flat and shook off his coat. He had just returned from the police station after giving his statement to Lestrade about the dealer. It was nearly eleven so Francesca would be in bed. This thought made Sherlock slightly nervous; who knew what was awaiting him behind the door. He pushed it open slightly and, sure enough, the room was dark apart from one single lamp. He noticed Molly sprawled on the sofa, a racy red lingerie set adorning her perfect figure. Molly looked up and beamed brightly, jumping to her feet and running to him, throwing her arms around his neck. Sherlock frowned in confusion but held her tightly to him, burying himself in her soft, wonderful smelling hair.

"Are you alright? You could have been hurt!"

Sherlock silently cursed his knowledgeable daughter; she had clearly told her mother everything that had happened today. Sherlock shrugged and Molly took a step backwards, her eyes blackened as she raked her long nails up and down his shirt, causing Sherlock to hiss. Molly started to softly push him backwards as she spoke in a delightful whisper.

"You taught Francesca a very valuable lesson, today…you got another dangerous man off the streets, punched him in the face and saved countless others…do you have any idea how hot I am for you right now?"

With one final push, Sherlock tumbled onto the bed softly. He moved to lean on his elbows, lust clear in his eyes as he swallowed thickly.

"I'm…sorry…forgive me."

Molly's eyes widened and she shook her head, a smirk on her face.

"My mother knows you well enough by now, Sherlock."

Sherlock's eyes widened and Molly giggled, her hands on her hips as she moved to kick the bedroom door closed. Sherlock frowned and smiled to himself.

"You tricked me."

Molly bit her lip and dropped her hands to her sides. Sherlock looked confused as he looked into her eyes.

"Are you mad?"

Sherlock thought for a moment before taking Molly's hand and pulling her roughly onto the bed next to him, earning him an excited squeal from her lips. He shushed her by placing his finger to her lips, which she proceeded to trace with her tongue. Sherlock spoke quickly, his mind distracting him momentarily.

"On the contrary, I am impressed."

Molly shifted up the bed and gestured for Sherlock to follow her which he did without hesitation. They glanced at the clock and Molly chuckled.

"Look at that, we almost lasted a full twenty four hours."

Without warning, Molly launched herself forwards, her lips colliding hungrily with Sherlock's as she fell on top of him. Desperate hands made short work of his shirt and they soon found his belt, running her fingers along the leather. Sherlock moaned in irritation against her mouth and his hands practically ripped her once expensive bra off of her shoulders. Suddenly, Molly felt herself slammed forcefully against the headboard, her cry nearly loud enough to be heard in the next room. Molly's hands reached his hair as Sherlock placed wet kisses everywhere he could reach. Molly pushed herself forwards so Sherlock was once again on his back, impatience and arousal clear in his expression. He hooked his fingers inside her knickers and pulled them downwards aggressively. Tossing them somewhere, his hands travelled up and down her back as she worked her magic at his neck. Molly smirked as she dragged her nails down his chest, a moan escaping his lips, before stopping at his zip. Sherlock was close to doing himself but he much preferred it this way…with Molly in complete control. Molly soon couldn't take it herself and ripped the zip open and positioned herself accordingly. She bent to kiss him deeply as she sank down, moaning rather loudly. Sherlock slapped a hand to her mouth, biting his own lips as she began to move frantically, rocking and rotating deliciously. She gripped his belt tightly as she rode him hard and fast and Sherlock raked his hands down over and across her chest until they settled on her hips, guiding her movements ever so slightly. The springs of the bed were in danger of collapsing as they rode out their climaxes, gasping, panting and moaning as they did so, sweat clinging to their bodies. After a few minutes, Molly collapsed next to Sherlock, their chests rising and falling rapidly and their hands entwining. It was a wonder they hadn't woken Francesca…then again, she was a much heavier sleeper than John used to be. He would hear every creak of the bedsprings being worked too hard, or every pound of the headboard against the wall. Once able to speak, Molly gasped in pleasure to Sherlock.

"Oh…my god…that was…amazing…our best ever, I think…"

Sherlock chuckled, his breath ragged and he raised Molly's hand to his lips, kissing it delicately.

"Oh…my darling…you say that…every time…and every time…it is the truth…"

Sherlock pulled the covers over them and Molly rolled over and draped her arm loosely over his chest. They were soon fast asleep, hands still clasped, together forever.

xx