A/N: This prompt fill is much more fluff and much less angst than my usual fare. It's nice to walk in the light every once in a while!
He didn't usually knock at her door. In fact, most of the time he revelled in the speed in which he could pick the lock. He thought it was amusing that no matter how hard she tried to keep him out, he always found his way in.
He could tell from the wry smile she greeted him with whenever he arrived that she liked it too. It was their little game.
But that night, for some reason, he wasn't in the mood to be playing games. So he knocked at the door, and waited for her to answer.
His heart fell when he saw her. Skin blotchy, nose running, eyes puffy and read. She had been crying.
"Molly, whatever's the matter?" He asked.
"It's nothing, Sherlock. Come in," she said and moved away from the door.
He followed her into the lounge room.
"Don't lie to me Molly."
"I'm not lying!" She said, and turned to head into the kitchen.
Sherlock grabbed her hand.
"You've been crying."
"I have," she admitted.
"Molly-" Sherlock steeled himself, ready to confess all that he'd been hiding from her ever since the Moriarty broadcast had offered him his unearned stay of execution.
"Sherlock, I can't right now," Molly said, and tried to break free from his grasp and retreat into the kitchen.
"No, Molly. You need to hear this."
"Yes, but-"
"I know I don't show it, and I have definitely done and said things which would make you think otherwise, but I care for you, Molly. I don't know what's made you cry, but I will do whatever I can to fix it."
It was like he had been holding his breath. With his feelings declared, now he could recover.
Molly smiled.
"That's really lovely, Sherlock. Truly, it means a lot. But-"
"But you can't trust me anymore," he nodded, "Sure. I deserve that."
Molly reached out and gently touched his face, "No. That's not it."
"Then what?" he asked, unable to hide his frustration.
"I'm in the middle of cooking dinner. The sautéed onions are about to burn."
"Onions?"
"Yes."
"And they made you cry?"
Molly smirked, "Yep."
"Well…" for the first time in perhaps his whole adult life Sherlock found himself at a loss for words.
"So, will you join me for dinner?" Molly asked.
Sherlock nodded.
"And maybe breakfast tomorrow?" Molly continued.
Sherlock paused, taking just a moment too long to grasp her meaning. Molly bit her lip in anticipation.
"Sounds great," he said.