Molly notices some details of her own. Set anytime before TRF, really. Just some fluff. Enjoy.
Molly couldn't help but watch him as he worked. His eyes were bright as he examined a slide under the microscope, and his eyelashes danced against the eyepiece as his gaze roamed over the specimen. The light from the fluorescent overhead was playing games on his angular face, lighting the planes of his sharp cheekbones and then shifting to his lips as he looked up briefly from the microscope.
"I do wish you'd stop staring at me as it is quite distracting," he murmured, switching out his slides and lowering his eyes to the eyepiece once more.
Molly flushed and fumbled with the manila folders she'd been going through. She cursed herself mentally, but also admitted to herself that it was so difficult not to stare, especially when his mouth was moving. She glanced at him once again and saw that he was muttering to himself, making mental notes. She was hypnotized by the way his lips moved when he spoke. They were like pillows; tempting, soft, plush pillows, curved like a bow and pouty. They were even more mesmerizing when he smiled his little smile, like the one he made now, as though he'd thought of something amusing. The left side of his mouth was pulled up into that familiar little smile, and Molly melted, right there on her little stool.
She pulled her gaze back to the folder in her hands, chastising herself, and attempted to focus on the report she was supposed to be proofreading. It wasn't long, however, before her eyes found their way back to the man on her right, zeroing in on that little dimple before sliding up to his hair, where a single dark lock had curled its way around the shell of his ear.
Molly sighed inwardly. How many times had she thought about reaching up and tucking that stray curl away behind his ear? Or running her fingers through the rest of his curls just to see if they felt as thick as they looked? Or tracing a finger across each plane of his delicate face just to test how sharp his angles really were? Or pressing her lips to his to find out if they really were as sumptuous as she dreamed?
Too many to count.
"Perhaps you should take a break."
Sherlock's voice brought her out of her reverie, and she snapped to attention, shuffling through her papers without really seeing them.
"You seem distracted. You should get some air and come back when you've cleared your head," he told her, not looking up from the microscope as he switched out the slides again.
With a little sigh, Molly stood up from her stool and closed her file, letting the stack drop back to the table. "You're right. I think I'll grab a cup of coffee. Would you care for a cup?"
She knew asking him to join her was futile; he never could catch on.
"Yes, I would, actually. Black-"
"Black, two sugars; got it," Molly affirmed, stuffing her hands into her lab coat pockets and turning on her heel. Sherlock looked up from his slides to watch her go, a bemused smile on his face. He might not be good with people, but he wasn't blind. He was actually pretty sure even a blind person could see the way she stared at him all the time.
Chuckling to himself, Sherlock bent his head to the microscope once again, hoping that now that his own distraction was gone for a few minutes, he could concentrate on his work.