There was a knocking at the door, and though this particular knocking rarely sounded through her cozy flat, Molly Hooper had no doubt, upon opening the door who she'd find. His was a specific knock. Yes, really it was. Always the same amount of raps, always with the same rhythm and potency.
Still, she hadn't been expecting anyone, least of all him. All those she knew she was seeing to celebrate her (typing has been omitted)th birthday were already waiting for her at the restaurant. She greeted him quickly, and gestured that he come in, which he did with the pace of a strutting cat.
"Did you need anything," she asked, glancing at her phone. He hadn't called or sent a message. She frowned, looking at him.
He merely posed, and stared at her.
She only felt a little self-conscious with the way his eyes studied her. "Some friends are taking me out tonight...they suggested I try to look pretty."
"They're idiots," he responded curtly, but seeing her small smile fall, transformed his countenance rather hastily. "I mean...they are idiots because you always look…pretty."
Oh my. How this was unexpected. "Thank you," she said, trying not mumble.
"Tonight you look exceptional, of course."
She practically chocked on air in her effort to thank him again, and walked hurriedly around him to slip on her shoes. He followed her, turning in tandem with her movements. "So, did you need anything?"
"Uh..."
She paused, standing up straight. It was a rare occasion when she was a witness to the great Sherlock Holmes' use of the proverbial utterance 'Uh'. In honesty, those beautiful instances were usually left to her side of the conversation. "Sherlock, are you okay?"
"Yes of course I am. Why wouldn't I be?"
She looked him up in down with concern. "All right..."
Ignoring the fact that the task of putting her other shoe on took twice as long because she was being watched, she smiled a wobbly smile, and exhaled the sort of exhale that signaled a task well completed. She straightened her dress, and looked at him. "Well…" She was ready to leave, but didn't know how to at this point.
Of course he must have seen this because he took a step forward, which made her in turn take a step back. He paused, clearly troubled by something, but continued forward, saying nothing of it.
Moments before it happened, Molly had tried to assess the situation. He stood inches from her, so it couldn't be a handshake. A hug? Ridiculous. A kiss? His face was bending toward hers. That must be it. She began to turn her cheek a little, thinking it to be a peck on the cheek (as was his MO with her), but was surprised when his finger tilted her chin back and upward. She had none but a millisecond to frown when his mouth touched hers. And…stayed there.
Molly's eyes widened. Then just like that he was gone, standing a cool two feet away from her, looking quite uniform, as if what he just did hadn't happened at all. Though he did lick his lips, which in turn, made her lick her own lips. She tasted the flavor of her lip gloss, which meant he could taste it too. Her vision slightly blurred at that revelation.
"Happy Birthday, Molly Hooper."
"Happy birthday Moll—I mean erm—" She tried to focus all her senses. She half sighed, half laughed before correcting herself. "I mean…thank you, Sherlock."
He nodded, and left.