Bedroom Bore
Molly didn't really want to be bored right now, she really didn't.
But Tom moved so slow, and his touch was so soft, and his voice so quiet as he whispered his "I love you's" that she found herself ignoring he was there at all. He'd woke her this morning with wondering hands and chaste kisses on her neck, mumbling about 'before work.' If she waited long enough he'd be done and she could get in at least another two hours of sleep before she had to be at Bart's.
With a few more light touches and some rather gross morning-breath kisses, he finished up and she was just about to slip back into the dream about kittens when she heard his high pitch squeal in the kitchen. Grumpier than she'd like after fifteen minutes of hip bumping, she dragged on a robe and her pyjama bottoms. She didn't bother with her hair. It was probably just Sherlock.
Sure enough, the consulting detective sat at her couch sipping his coffee and looking immeasurably pleased with himself. She wasn't sure why he looked so happy and probably didn't want to, but the issue at hand had more to do with Tom. The poor man was a horrible mixture of freight and indignation as he glared at the languid man stretched out sinfully across her cushions. She held in a giggle, rubbed her hands through her hair, and waved on her indignant fiancé.
"Get on to work, Tom. It's not like he's going to bite." She blushes. That's not exactly what she'd meant to say. Both men look at her with entirely opposite expressions. She didn't know if she should be more concerned with Tom's anger or Sherlock's smugness. "You're going to be late. Get on."
Tom didn't look away from Sherlock his entire walk to the door. After an embarrassing stumble with the lock, he was gone. Molly's shoulders slumped a little as she relaxed. At least now she only had one man to deal with.
"What are you doing here?"
"Thought I'd stop by, pester you before work, ask for some body parts. My usual." She noted his shoes propped against her decorative pillows. He was going to leave smudges.
"You mean you're avoiding Janine."
"Yes, that too. Really, she's very talkative." He took another long sip of his coffee before staring back at Molly. "And grabby."
"She likes you. Can't blame her for that. After all, you did make sure of it."
"Yes, well… I didn't realize she'd like all of me quite so much. It's not really my area." He glanced over her. She felt naked despite the robe on her shoulders and the baggy t shirt. "I guess it's not Tom's either."
Her cheeks flushed red. She refused to look away as he appraised her again, taking in her disheveled, hastily thrown on clothes and uncombed, rat's nest hair.
"What do you mean? You weren't watching me, were you?" The thought was horrifying and more than a little creepy.
"No. No. I didn't see you." He grinned. It was one of his sly, bemused grins that he only ever got when he felt cocky. "I didn't hear you either."
He took a long sip from his coffee, finished the cup, and set it on the coffee table.