Sherlock is waiting for John to get home from work in his usual spot on the patio out back. Being domestic does suit him in ways that she cannot fully describe. This morning she woke up to the best cup of tea she'd ever drank, and the later she caught Sherlock bouncing around, bored as he claimed, in the laundry room folding clothes into perfect squares.
"Molly!" He calls, sensing that she's come from the nursery. Rosa spent most of the morning crying while cutting her teeth. It's been exhausting but there's nothing that she would trade for a different life. Sharing hers with John and Sherlock has been the most exciting and rewarding sort of life she could imagine.
"Yes?" Molly whispers. Sherlock always hears her voice no matter the volume. She swipes the monitor off of the chest of toys on her way to the sliding doors. Once she pokes her head past the screen, Sherlock turns smoothly around to kiss her cheek. A blush rises to her cheeks. Being in this odd sort of relationship with Sherlock is rewarding in more ways than one, but mostly in just being able to truly see how much the madman cares for her, in spite of how truly mundane she can be at times. Molly never wanted anything physical from him.
Although, she cannot deny that holding hands and kissing from time-to-time isn't equally gratifying in a different way entirely.
"I was thinking, John is off this weekend. How do you feel about a rendezvous in Paris? Would the university let you take a day off, do you think?" he asks, though Molly knows he has no intention of actually letting it be a matter of inquiry. The instant she sees his phone come out, she knows he's texting her superior that he's arranging a weekend getaway for the pair of them. There's no way they'll turn make her work, having only ever worked there her professional career. Her loyalty and quality of work do give her certain perks, not that she'd ever boast as much.
Molly grins, feeling confident enough to grab Sherlock by the wrist and gently pull him closer. Despite being two or three inches higher up than him, she has to look up to meet his gaze. They stand this way for a few seconds before they both decide to take the dive. It always happens like this, their passionate kisses that could make even The Woman blush. They are too far and few between, it seems sometimes, but nonetheless it is the most magnificent feeling in the whole world. Whenever they part from any passionate embrace, Molly always comments on Sherlock's hair, just remind herself that this is all definitely real.
"There's a brush in the kitchen. You should probably fix that before John comes home and gets jealous." An effortless chuckle escapes her lips with so much freedom. No, there's no life she could live that is better than this one.
Author's Note: This story is dedicated to the user Rejooc, whom I've become close to through the Harry Potter forums. Our shared passion for the Sherlock fandom is just so extra that I can't take it sometimes. Friends are bae :)
