AN: I own nothing.
This is a birthday gift for broomclosetkink. There would be smut, but I hate writing it, so there is fluff instead. Here's your birthday cake babe, I hope you enjoy it.
Sherlock sighed. He was surrounded by a dozen folded napkins, all in the shape of flowers, and he was still worried about his gift to Molly for her birthday. It wasn't every day that the woman who saved your life twice (if you counted the mind palace) turned another year older. It wasn't every year that the woman you secretly love helped thwart a criminal mastermind and delivered your best friend's baby.
Sherlock was determined to let Molly know how he felt... not with an actual declaration of feelings mind you, but with a gift. Unfortunately for Sherlock, he'd had no idea what gift he could possibly give to Molly that would declare his intentions without having to verbally declare his intentions, so that she was then forced to express how she felt instead. It was quite manipulative, but Sherlock had reasoned that if Molly cared for him just as he was, she would appreciate all facets of his personality, even the manipulative ones. Frankly, giving the best man speech at John and Mary's wedding was enough emotional sharing for a lifetime.
John had told him to go with something from 'the heart.' That getting something that represented her would be just fine, and that Molly would love it because it was from him. Mary, being a tad more useful and based in reality than John, suggested he conveniently leave a Harvey Nichols catalogue lying around. Next time Molly was over to help solve cases she would invariably open the catalogue, because Molly was a sucker for those things, and she would immediately begin to ooh and ah over her favourite items, another Mollyism; all Sherlock had to do was make a mental note of what she exclaimed over.
So Sherlock had gotten the requisite catalogue, left it lying about, and Molly had looked through it during some downtime between cases at Baker Street. Of course Sherlock had noted down everything she seemed excited over, but he still wasn't sure about his gift to her. It had been between an Alexander McQueen sweatshirt... or lingerie. Lots and lots of lingerie. Apparently, Molly really loved lingerie. Every piece that the models wore was quite revealing, which surprised Sherlock, because he didn't think Molly went for that sort of thing.
He certainly couldn't get her the sweatshirt, no matter how expensive it was, because that basically cemented their relationship on the friendship level according to John. But lingerie seemed a bit too far in the other direction for Sherlock's tastes. He wanted to date her, not... well he wanted to do that as well, but dating should really come first and he wasn't sure if lingerie would be the ideal lead in that direction.
Eventually, for the sake of his own mental well-being, Sherlock went with the lingerie. He bought all five pieces that she had seemed interested in and had it all wrapped up in a nice white box with a big black bow. Molly would certainly read his intentions from the gift, but he had to make sure to give it to her while they were alone. No need to embarrass the woman over her sartorial choices.
The box now sat in John's (sometimes Molly's) chair as an ominous sign of his inability to pick out appropriate gifts for the woman he secretly loved. Yet there was nothing to be done as the lady in question was on her way and was expecting a lovely wrapped gift from him. At the the sound of the outer door opening, Sherlock quickly shoved the folded napkins under the sofa and moved to sit down. Molly used the spare key Sherlock had given her to open the door into the flat and smiled in greeting at the detective casually lounging in his chair as if he had not a care in the world.
"Hello Sherlock," she said cheerfully, and Sherlock felt slightly undone at the site of a normally staid Dr. Hooper wrapped in a short fitted blue dress.
"Ha-" Sherlock coughed and tried to bring himself back to the matter at hand. "Happy birthday Molly Hooper."
Molly smiled brightly at Sherlock before looking toward the gift in the chair across from him. "That's for me I assume."
"You would be correct," Sherlock intoned calmly, having settled his rising libido. Apparently the gift would declare his exact intentions after all.
Molly carefully lifted the box from the chair and sat in its place. She laid the box on her lap and proceeded to open it. When she had finally lifted away the excess tissue paper, Sherlock held his breath. Molly seemed to stare down into the box for an interminably long time with a look Sherlock wasn't quite able to make out.
She slowly looked up and lifted her brow at the detective. "Did you buy me... lingerie?"
"Obviously that is what I bought you Molly as that is what is in the box," Sherlock said imperiously, attempting to cover his nervousness at her reaction, or lack of one as the case may be.
"I just wanted to make sure," she murmured then hesitated, "but why did you buy me lingerie though?"
Feeling it was best to simply come clean about that particular aspect of the scheme, Sherlock relayed Mary's suggestion of the catalogue and how he had observed her responses to various items, finally landing on the lingerie as his best course of action, although he did not explain why exactly it was the best.
For a beat, Molly's face was blank, then she broke out into uproarious laughter. The box slid to the floor in front of her as she clutched her sides and continued laughing. Sherlock scowled at what he saw was a mockery of his gift choosing technique, but she continued to laugh. Finally, after some minutes of laughing herself silly, Molly began to take large gulps of air to calm down. Sherlock decided he wouldn't be the one to speak first after that childish display, and he waited patiently for Molly to collect herself. She leaned over and pushed the box to the side, then she stood up and slowly made her way to the detective.
"Do you know my favorite thing about looking at the Harvey Nichols catalogue?"
Molly was stood directly in front of Sherlock, causing him to have to look up at her face. "No," Sherlock said slowly, slightly annoyed at himself at the waver in his voice.
Molly bent at the waist until her mouth was lined up with his temple, and Sherlock was suddenly aware that he had a good view of her cleavage. His breath sped up as he was able to glimpse a small strip of pink satin bra. She spoke quietly, seductively into his ear, "I love how the models look... in their make-up."
Molly slowly stood back up, allowing Sherlock to breathe normally again, but she continued to stand quite close to him. Suddenly what she had said registered and he looked up at her, askance at her words. "You like... the make-up."
Molly smirked. "I do. I can't actually afford anything in that catalogue, not even a simple sweatshirt, but I get great make-up ideas that I try out at home. Even if I never wear my make-up like that out and about, I like messing around." It seemed obvious in hindsight that Molly wouldn't be the lingerie type. This thought slightly disappointed Sherlock, which must have shown on his face, because Molly began to smile at him. "I love my gift though Sherlock. I will certainly be using it. Would you like me to model the lingerie for you?"
Molly said this all very coyly, and Sherlock felt his brain seize up as images he didn't even know he was capable of flashed through his mind palace. Molly bent over the kitchen table in a black thong and corset. Molly laid back on his bed, legs spread open, in a white teddy. Molly pinned against a wall in blue lacy bra, garter belt, and stockings, but no knickers...
Sherlock came back to himself when Molly sat in his lap. She circled her arms around his neck and he immediately wrapped his arms around her small waist, pulling her closer. "Well?" Molly questioned softly, her head tilted to the side and a small smile on her pink lips.
"Model the blue set first..." Sherlock said lowly, his voice rumbling deep in his chest, "no knickers."
Molly leaned in further and kissed him slowly before leaning back again. "Blue lingerie first then."
-sh/mh-
As they lay side by side on the sitting room floor, sweaty and breathing hard from a third round of sex that had begun with black lingerie and a kitchen table, Molly turned her head and began to giggle.
Sherlock turned his head as well to look at her, and he noticed her staring at the napkins under the sofa. "Do you find something humorous, Dr. Hooper?"
Molly stopped giggling and turned to him with a thoughtful look on her face. "You do realize we're together now right," she said, a smirk slowly making its way onto her face. "I don't do this sort of thing everyday."
Sherlock smiled at the knowing look in her eyes. "Of course Molly, I will endeavour to go along with whatever you think is best." He highly suspected she might have caught on to his whole scheme, but he was too happy to care. "Now, shall we try out the green lingerie?"