She had a flu bug, but went to work anyway. It wasn't like she'd infect her patients. They were dead. She worked for a little while then felt very nauseated. She ran to the garbage bin and lost the remnants of her breakfast.
"Molly, are you alright?" Sherlock grabbed her hair away from her face.
"Fine. Just a flu bug." Molly said.
"Come on. You need to go home." Sherlock said.
"No." Molly moaned. "I have to work."
"I'm taking you home. No arguments." Sherlock put her coat on her and led her to a cab.
"Sherlock, you are so nice." Molly said.
He could tell she was getting delirious from the fever.
"You aren't really as heartless as psycho Jim thinks you are. In fact, you are a sweet and caring boyfriend." Molly continued.
Sherlock smirked at her us of 'psycho Jim'.
"Don't you be letting on." He said.
"Oh I won't tell anyone." Molly said.
He took her inside and got her to bed. He monitored her fever and was ready to call John if need be. When Molly vomited, Sherlock held her hair and rubbed her back.
Molly came back to the land of the living and the previous day's events came rushing back. She sat up and rubbed her eyes.
"You're awake." The deep baritone voice said from the side of the bed.
Molly looked over at him. "You brought me home, but I don't remember anything after that."
"You were delirious. I wouldn't expect you to remember. Are you feeling better?" Sherlock asked.
"A little. You didn't have to stay. I would have been fine."
"I wanted to make sure you were okay. Especially since I got to hear how smart, sweet, wonderful, caring, and intelligent I was." Sherlock smiled mischievously.
"I said all of that? You know I had no control of what I was saying since I was oh so delirious. It might not have been true." Molly smiled back.
"You know it is." Sherlock said. He leaned down and kissed her. He pulled back quickly.
"What's wrong?" Molly inquired.
"As much as I enjoy kissing you, your breath is horrible." Sherlock replied.
"Sorry." Molly giggled.