A Beautiful Accident
"I can't believe you," Molly said, attempting to be stern but ended up giggling. "Texting during Rosie's christening."
"Crime stops for no one, Molly, you know that," Sherlock replied. She only rolled her eyes at him.
"Molly, do you need a ride home?" Mary asked as she approached them, Rosie in her arms.
"Oh I—" Molly started.
"I'll get her a cab home," Sherlock interrupted. Mary had a look of satisfaction cross her face.
"Very well, then," she told them. "I'll see you tomorrow, Molly?"
"Yes, of course!" Molly answered with a smile. Sherlock kept glancing over at her; he couldn't help but take in the flattering dress on her petite figure with her hair done up beautifully. There was a sudden aching in his heart. Most would accept it as yearning but not Sherlock Holmes; he refused to acknowledge it. He couldn't acknowledge it. The work was all there was. That's all.
"You're gonna pay for my fare? You don't have to," Molly spoke softly. They were both in the backseat of the cab en route to her flat.
"It's no problem," Sherlock replied. "After all, it's the least I can do." Their eyes met, sparks flying. One was acknowledging it and the other was desperately trying to deny it. The driver took a sharp turn too fast and suddenly their lips were connected for a brief three seconds, but it was everything. Sherlock felt like he was engulfed in flames, the warmth from feeling Molly's lips on his spreading like wildfire. He could no longer deny it. He loved her.
They stared at each other, unable to say a word until both of them arched their eyebrows in question. As an answer to the same question they asked one another, they nodded. Sherlock didn't waste time to envelop her lips with his own, feeling her, tasting her. It was heaven if he ever believed in such a thing. Molly swept her tongue along his bottom lip resulting in a most pleasing noise from Sherlock. He allowed her entrance as they explored each other. He tasted better than she could ever imagine. Her fingers wound themselves in his curls and his hands caressed her face. Neither were aware of the world around them; Sherlock's mind was silenced completely for the first time. He felt at peace with her.
"Are you two getting out?" the driver asked. They separated, a blush encompassing Molly's cheeks.
"Um, so, I should go," she spoke breathlessly. Sherlock wasn't ready to let her go yet.
"May I come in? I think I'll need my favourite bolthole tonight," he told her in a gentle tone. The slight nod of her head was all he needed before they exited the cab. Sherlock haphazardly threw a wad of notes to the driver, eager to follow Molly inside. She took his hand, disappearing through the door, ready to satisfy their curiosity in their newfound relationship. As far as accidents went, this was by far their favourite.