Disclaimer: insert standard "I'm not ACD/Mofftiss", "I own nothing", "Please don't sue" disclaimer here
Summary: Despite her well known, perpetual crush on a certain Consulting Detective, Molly Hooper rarely dreamed about Sherlock Holmes.
Dream a Little Dream of Me
-x-x-x-x-
*bzzz* *bzzz*
A hand sneaked out of the blanket, slapped the snooze button on the alarm, then turned back into the warm blanket cocoon.
Despite her well known, perpetual crush on a certain Consulting Detective, Molly Hooper rarely dreamed about Sherlock Holmes; and even if she did, she never remembered them.
But this morning, bits and pieces lingered as Molly snuggled into her pillow, trying to return to her dream. And it was such a lovely dream too. She tried to recapture the tingles of warmth and the weight of Sherlock's hand in hers as he dragged her down side streets and alleyways, the stars bright above as they outran whoever was chasing them.
Eventually, the dream had turned playful and fun, and instead of running down dark city streets, a giggling Molly skipped through a sunny country field, with Sherlock right beside her. She remembered the light in his clear blue eyes and the hint of a smile ghosting his lips as her fingertips brushed his arm before she grasped his hand and pulled him with her, the tall grass skimming past their legs.
When the dream had changed one last time, they huddled under the Speedy's awning, a hard rain pouring down around them.
Molly clutched her pillow tight as she dreamed about Sherlock wrapping his arms around her while she pressed her cheek to his chest. Memories of his clean soap scent, cigarette smoke, and that tiny, musky bit of something that only belonged to Sherlock, wafted about her. His soft, firm lips had murmured "I love you" against her hairline before tucking her head underneath his chin and enveloping her into his warm coat, the feeling of his embrace filling her heart with joy.
While vaguely wondering why the pillow smelled so much like him -Sherlock hadn't used her room as a bolthole in the past few weeks- the alarm rang again. Molly hugged her pillow one more time, then turned off the alarm and got out of bed.
-x-x-x-x-
Wrapping her long, brown hair in a towel, Molly stepped out of the shower. She gasped when she found a message written on the steam covered mirror over the sink.
Thank you
-Sherlock
And as she brushed her fingertips across her forehead and smelled the distinctive leather and lavender scent of Sherlock's soap, Molly couldn't help but hope that part of her dream was real.