Hi, another shortie, hopefully for your pleasure. Please let me know what you think.
'Umpf...that is...tight...a bit,' Sherlock was murmuring under his breath while he was trying to press himself through the half opened window of Molly Hooper's dark bedroom. When he finally took down both his feet onto the soft carpet next to the pathologist's empty bed he put down the package from his hand on the small table next to an armchair, and ruffled his hair with both hands. He took off his long coat with one graceful movement and threw it over the backside of the deep red chair.
Grabbing the small paper bag from the table he stepped forward and silently opened the bedroom door leading to the living room to see the light filtering out from the kitchen and to hear Molly humming and chopping some fresh vegetables. She stood in front of the counter and with furrowed brows in concentration was slicing the cucumber into thin pieces. Her loose, light-blue shirt was hanging on her small frame down to the middle of her tights, where the black tight pants appeared.
Sherlock silently sneaked behind Molly and gently put his hands on her hip. He stepped closer to press his front to her back and nuzzled against the tender skin behind her ear where the soft curly mops are framing her thick tonsure.
'Hmm...Isn't this my shirt?' he murmured against the back of her neck, feeling smile spreading across her face. Molly stopped the slicing and slightly tilted her head to give him a better access. After kissing her jaw Sherlock bent forward to give a slow closed eye kiss.
'Hmm...The one you've decided to throw out being too small now in chest.' Molly turned her head to push her lips against his for another kiss. 'I like it.' She shrugged.
Sherlock chuckled and pulling away he brushed his lips once more to the soft hair on the top of her neck.
'You should try the door once, it is rather comfortable.' Molly smiled to herself as she took the knife back into her hand. She already knew his answer and mutely formed the word as he was saying it.
'Boring.'
Sherlock was already in the living room, with a medical journal in his hand, he had found it on the coffee table. As he was about to flop down on the big, fluffy coach he reached behind and took out his wallet from his hip-pocket to put it down on the drawer under the desk lamp with an almost unconscious routine movement. Sherlock switched on the lamp and started to turn over the pages of the journal sitting down with a tired sigh. He lazily kicked off his shoes to put his feet up to the table and unbuttoned the highest button on his shirt.
'How was your day? Anything interesting I would want to check?' He asked furrowing his brow already reading an article about various lung deceases.
'Uhm...not really. Just the usual natural causes. One banker with heart attack, an old lady with liver cancer and a restaurant critic with stomach flu. With chocking and desiccation. Nothing particular.' Molly shook her head and put the sliced cucumber into the bowl to the tomato slices.
'You should test the last one for Aethusa cynapium. It looks like parsley and tastes like garlic. Restaurant critics usually aren't the most popular ones,' Sherlock said without looking up from the paper.
Molly tilted her head and with narrowed eyes, she bit one side of her lower lip. 'Yes, I'll do that tomorrow.'
She nodded and switched off the cooker. She wiped her hand in the dish towel and walked towards Sherlock to sit on the other end of the couch. She stretched her legs to reach his lap. Sherlock with a hum took one hand onto one of her feet and started to massage it gently. Molly growled in contentment and closed her eyes.
'I brought dessert.' Sherlock said proudly slightly glancing at Molly.
'Yes, I saw it on the counter. Looks delicious. Thanks.' She smiled. 'How was the case?'
Sherlock took down the journal and added his other hand to the massage for Molly's great pleasure.
'It was barely a five. Fortunately, I have to say, because I am not sure if I could stand hearing John's constant whimpering about getting home in time.' Sherlock rolled his eyes. 'They were going to see some apartments. They want a bigger one since Baby Watson II is on his way.'
Molly didn't give a reaction only chuckled. Sherlock Holmes was complaining about somebody else's snivel. Table has turned.
Sherlock was just about to elaborate the case turning towards Molly with his whole torso when a loud knock on the front door interrupted him. They sat in silence not taking a single breath. They had wanted to keep their relationship in secret until the Moriarty case was solved, and had agreed it was safer to keep it from everybody, though it started to be more and more difficult pretend to be just friends.
'Molly, Molly, are you okay?' John's voice came by surprise for both of them. 'Molly, if you don't open till I count three, I'm going to break the door. One...'
Sherlock quickly grabbed his shoes and silently disappeared in the bedroom.
...
Earlier
'I really liked this flat. Huge windows, enough room for all the four of us. A bit expensive, tough.' Mary shrugged while straightened the blanket on Julia in the baby carriage. 'Anyway, I liked it.'
'The neighbourhood isn't bad either. Lots of green, and the tube is pretty near.' John nodded and started to walk pushing the carriage in front of him. 'Did you know that Molly lived somewhere here? If I remember well, that's the house.' John pointed at a three floored brick building on the opposite side of the street. 'On the second floor the nearest flat is...'John's mouth stopped moving as he saw a dark figure climbing through Molly's window. '...Molly's.' He ended the sentence in a slight panic. 'Mary, go in to that store and wait there. It's pretty dark outside. I'll check on Molly.' John pushed Mary and the carriage towards the nearby teashop at the basement of a bigger building.
'John, I can protect myself.' Mary frowned with a smile.
'Please, Mary, just...just go in.' John begged.
Mary sighed in surrender and headed to the store.
John rushed to the brick house and bumped into an elderly woman at the front door who let him in. As he reached Molly's door, barely catching his breath, he started to knock on the light brown door.
...
Present
'Two...' John shook himself and took a deep quick breath through his nostrils preparing to fight when the door finally opened and Molly was looking at him with her big brown eyes.
'Hi John. Is everything all right?' She frowned.
'Molly, huh, thank God you're all right. We were just walking in the street and saw somebody climbing through your window.'
Molly gulped. 'Oh, really? I didn't notice anything. Nobody is in here.' Molly smiled nervously.
'Would you let me to check? After Moriarty's return, Sherlock is constantly worrying about your safety. Maybe he is right.'
'Really, does he?'
John pushed himself past Molly and started to look around. In the kitchen he found nothing just the freshly cooked dinner. In the bedroom there was only Toby, Molly's cat meowing next to the bed constantly reaching under it. Molly's eyes widened in panic as John lowered onto his knees to check the space under the bed to find nothing but a small rubber chicken. He gave it to Toby and stepped to the cupboard opened it but only Molly's dresses were hanging. John finally checked the bathroom to find the tub's curtain closed. He silently and quickly pulled it away and saw Molly's amazing collection of yellow ducks.
'Okay, it's fine, I think. Nobody is here. Sorry for disturbing you.' John apologised as he was heading to the door.
'Oh no. I am really grateful for your concern. There could have been somebody, you can never know.'
As John turned to leave with a smile he suddenly saw it, the evidence, there it was. Highlighted on the desk under the small lamp. A wallet. The wallet which belonged to his best friend, Sherlock Holmes. Suddenly everything made sense. Sherlock's bright mood despite the concerning Moriarty issue, his constant texting, him taking a cab and heading different direction than Baker Street, Molly's frequent body part delivering to Sherlock, according to Mrs Hudson and of course the dark figure climbing through Molly's window. John's grin widened to each thought.
'Well then, have a very, very good night Molly.' John smiled with a wink and rushed out through the door leaving a slightly confused pathologist behind.
When Sherlock came back Molly asked with raised eyebrows. 'Where were you?'
'I was hanging under the bathrooms window.'
'Hmm...Clever.' Molly smiled at him while was folding his arms around his neck and pressed a lingering kiss on his mouth.
'I know. That was close though.' Sherlock kissed her back with growing passion when his phone buzzed. His eyes shut open. '
Apparently too close,' he growled as he checked his phone with recognition. There was a text.
You have a bloody lot to explain, mate. JW
Next day after a long conversation with Sherlock at Baker Street, John got home late at night.
As he slipped under the duvet Mary stirred and asked in a sleepy voice. 'How did it go?'
'Actually...really well,' he whispered. 'It seems that they have...they have a quite healthy relationship based on love, equality and mutual accepting.' John paused. 'You know... that's the great with Sherlock, always the unexpected.'