A/N: For the prompt from brunettebookworm97 who wanted Sherlock and Molly's first date. Hope you like what I came up with! (And sorry about the unoriginal title!)

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

First Date

He'd over thought it.

In his attempt to make her happy, he'd ended up overdoing it and ruined the whole effect.

The candlelit table was too ostentatious, the piece he'd composed for her on his violin was too saccharine and the small gift he'd bought her was just the final straw in making the whole evening seem too forced and overwhelmingly sentimental.

He couldn't breathe.

He raked his hands through his carefully brushed curls as he started to pace the room, she would be there any minute and all he had to present her with was an overly crafted romantic setting. He was trying too hard and would only make both of them uncomfortable.

He fished his phone out of his pocket, tempted to just ask her to forget about the whole thing or, at the very least, to reschedule. The sight of her smiling face on his phone's background gave him pause, he knew she'd been looking forward the evening – their first real date – for the past week, he couldn't cancel it now.

He groaned, as he loosened his tie (another sign of the effort he'd put into the evening) and continued his agitated pacing. It was going to be a disaster, a complete and unmitigated-

The sound of the doorbell broke him from his agonised thoughts: she was here.

He went to the door, dragging his feet the whole way in an effort to stave of the inevitable and cursing his selfishness at not wishing to share her with anyone by taking her to a restaurant. Now he wished he'd done anything except try to create the right atmosphere himself.

All of his negative thoughts, indeed any and all thoughts, were swept from his mind by the vision that greeted him at the door.

"So you do like this dress after all," Molly teased, blushing a little at the way he was staring.

Sherlock said nothing as he continued to take in the sight of Molly in the dress she had worn to that fateful Christmas party all those years ago. Surely it hadn't been that figure hugging the last time he'd seen it?

Sherlock continued to catalogue her appearance for future reference; perhaps it was the softer hairstyle she wore or the more subdued makeup, but she looked stunning.

"Aren't you going to let me in?" she asked, breaking Sherlock from his stupor.

Wordlessly he stepped aside and she smiled at him as she made her way into the flat; he blinked and bounded after her as his brain finally registered that she was about to see the living room.

"I got a little carried away," he admitted, cringing a little as he came up behind her and once again took in the way he'd transformed the room.

"Just a little," Molly agreed, looking stunned as she looked around the room. She turned to smile at him, "I had a feeling this might happen, so I did a little planning of my own," she told him, holding up a plastic bag with takeaway and a movie. "I hope you don't mind," she added, biting her lip slightly.

Sherlock's face split into a rare grin, "Molly Hooper, you are amazing," he told her, tapping her lightly on the nose.

She blushed and demurred, making him smile as he kissed her forehead before heading off to get plates.

Much later that evening Sherlock sat in his chair with Molly curled up in his lap, watching as the credits started to roll on the movie. He glanced down and was pleasantly surprised to find that Molly had fallen asleep; he smiled and kissed the top of her head before pulling her a little closer.

One day he would figure out how she always managed to make everything better, but tonight he would just enjoy having her near him.

...

A/N: Yeah, I just couldn't shake the image of Sherlock trying to make everything perfect and then deciding he hated it all. I figured Molly would know him well enough to anticipate that and...well, put him at ease again :)