I'm on a sherlolly roll. Perhaps, my last attempt to fill the world up with sherlolly goodies before the ship will eventually run out of fuel, come the next series. But I will sail high hopes upon the mast and pray for good weather.

In other words, I ain't bothered.

Enjoy this piece, set in a sherlolly couple world. I hope it's to your liking. Feel free to send hate, lukewarm like or love my way.

Wednesday's a wash day. A last packet of Felix, recycled underwear, call to Mum kind of day. Nothing special.

But maybe, she could have guessed when her street was blocked up, with a queue to the local newsagent's shop and florist, a scurry of cold-lined 9 to 5ers she had to push through on her way to the Tube.

Perhaps, she should known when she caught Meena and the 'Latte' bloke necking wildly, in the unromantic setting of their staff room.

Possibly, she might've realised as Mike Stamford came in, two thick red cheeks, grinning smile as he plonked a box of sweeties on his desk, matching the trend of her colleagues' desks of bouquets and chocolates. He raised an expectant eyebrow at her own uncluttered space.

All and all, Molly should have known as soon as John Watson asked her about her evening plans.

"Oh-I think Iron Chef's back tonight."

Faster than a pin, John's face dropped, only in time for Molly to catch a glimpse of his partner turning his back swiftly on their conversation.

"Iron Chef?"

"You wouldn't think cutting up cadavers all day would give an appetite but-" Her humorous attempt did nothing for John's expression, only invoking a sharp cough from Sherlock behind them.

"So nothing special?"

Now it was her time for confusion. "Well, it's not a final cook off or anything."

A shrill of a phone echoed out, causing a mild scurry as John rushed out, taking the call just as the lab doors closed behind him.

Molly returned to her table before a soft breath coursed over her neck.

"It's Wednesday." The voice breathed deeply over her.

"Thank you Sherlock, I already have a calendar. She reminded him. "It's pretty, has lots of kittens on it."

"Which makes this mishap even more intriguing." His face was pulled into view as Molly swung around to face him, hand on hip. "Unless you're playing dumb." Sherlock added.

Disregarding his suspicious expression, Molly sighed helplessly, "Am I missing some kind of joke?"

Sherlock stared at her. Then without warning, he threaded his coat over his shoulders and made for the door. "No. No you're not."

She turned her back away but not before a breath hovered over her neck again, just above her ears, it rushed out a hurried whisper, "Don't look inside the fridge."

Two flaps of his coat marked Sherlock's exit and Molly waited only two minutes, a quick scan of the corridor before rushing over to the lab's large refrigerator.

A plump, bull-red heart, with etchings of blue vein sat on a white dish. A slip of paper stuck to the top read,

For our future experiments. Happy Valentine's Day.

"Oh bugger."

Molly might've known.

you beautiful thing, thank you for reading.