It hadn't been a huge row, but it was enough for Molly to angrily stomp her way through the day. Sherlock, of course, had no idea that that what he had done was wrong and shrugged her anger off as hormonal.

Molly had steamed all day, until she met Mary for dinner. The blonde had immediately known that something had happened and jokingly demanded that Molly spill all.

'It's silly, I know, but the fact that he didn't take into consideration that it would hurt my feelings,' Molly lamented, poking at her meal.

'It's the end of the honeymoon phase,' Mary sympathised. 'He's used to you being sweet and accommodating, that he forgets that you're not invincible to his moods.'

Molly smiled. 'True. I guess I just got used to him being overly attentive that I forgot that the man I fell in love with can be quite emotionally blind.' She took a sip of her water and frowned. 'But there's still a small part of me that wants to punish him, make him suffer a little.'

Mary quirked her eyebrow. 'Oh? Is that a vindictive side I'm seeing in you, Mrs Holmes?'

'Perhaps,' Molly laughed. 'I'd never be able to hurt him, though. I would hate myself.'

'Well, that depends on your form of revenge.'

Molly tilted her head in question.

Mary leaned forward and whispered, 'The best way to punish a husband is to deny him.'

'Deny him?'

The former assassin giggled at Molly's innocence and waggled her eyebrows. 'You know... the goods.'

Molly's face burned red. 'I-I-I can't do that.'

'That good, huh? Can't keep your hands off each other?' Mary teased. She relished her friend's discomfort for a moment, before continuing. 'I guarantee, you dress sexy, tease him a bit, then just when he's putty in your hands, you douse him in cold water... hypothetically, of course.' Her eyes suddenly gleamed. 'Although...'

Molly laughed quietly as her thoughts drifted. Sherlock was just a man, after all. And he was subject to his base instincts, as he'd proven every night he could since their physical relationship began. Perhaps it was worth a shot. Just to get back at him a little.

An evil grin began to form. Yes. This plan definitely had great potential.

When Sherlock's footsteps sounded on the stairs to 221b later than night, Molly quickly arranged herself on the bed, ready to go into battle. He had texted her that afternoon that he was on a case and might be home late. Which worked for her, giving her plenty of time to make herself as desirable as possible. She shaved her legs, brushed her hair until it shone, and dressed in his favorite lingerie set under the camel-colored dressing gown she had stolen from him.

She grinned wickedly. He would be unable to resist. And when he caved... oh, then she'd let the other shoe drop.

The door to the bedroom opened and her husband shouldered his way in.

'Hello, love,' Molly purred seductively from her perch on their bed, setting down the book she had been pretending to read and pushing her glasses up her nose. He was ever so appreciative of her 'bookish' look. 'How was the case?'

'Brilliant!' Sherlock exclaimed, leaning down to press a kiss to her lips. She smiled at his giddiness. He shrugged off his suit jacket and went to hang it in the wardrobe. 'It started as a 6, but turned out to be a 9! Oh, it was Christmas! John wasn't thrilled about it...'

Molly normally had no trouble paying attention to Sherlock. But tonight, as he unbuttoned his tight shirt, she found her thoughts drifting far from his case talk. She groaned almost inaudibly as he shucked off his shirt and tossed it in the laundry bin.

Sherlock didn't appear to notice. 'It wasn't until we were trapped in the rafters that we realized neither of us had told Graham which warehouse we were in...'

'Mmmm.' Molly licked her lips as he began working on his trousers. To her great disappointment, he suddenly walked into the bathroom, out of her sight, but still talking.

'John knocked the first guy out, while I managed to incapacitate the other two...' The sound of running water and him brushing his teeth interrupted his story momentarily. Shaking herself out of her daze, Molly chastised herself. Time to get back in the game. She slid out of the dressing gown and arranged herself in a casually seductive pose atop the covers.

Sherlock walked out of the bathroom in his pants and slid into the bed beside her. She pouted at how he ignored her display, growing ever more frustrated as he placed his hands behind his head and grinned in triumph. She tried to keep her gaze from drifting to his bare chest, but that was an exercise in futility. 'By the time Graham figured out which warehouse we were in, we had them tied in parachute cord and-!'

'Oh, shut up!' Unable to stay strong, Molly suddenly lunged at him, cutting off his words with a passionate kiss. Sherlock froze for a second in shock, but quickly caught up and pulled her across his chest, eagerly deepening the kiss into a heavy snog.

Panting, Molly finally pulled back and glared down at his smug face. 'You knew all along, didn't you?'

'John has spent many a day complaining about Mary's schemes to make him suffer. It wasn't hard to deduce what you were doing.' He quirked an eyebrow as his thumbs rubbed circles over her silk-covered thighs. 'Did you really think I would be so easily susceptible to your womanly wiles?'

Molly sat up and raised her eyebrows. 'Womanly wiles?'

Realizing he was most definitely now treading on dangerous ground, Sherlock rolled them over and kissed her frowning lips. 'Mmmm, natural sexiness?'

Molly laced her arms behind his head and heaved a sigh. 'I know what you're doing, but quite frankly, I don't care at the moment. Now shut up and kiss me.'

Sherlock grinned and proceeded to prove that she didn't, in fact, need any womanly wiles to seduce him.