Reading Glasses

Because guys, I can't do it right now. Like, The Black Bag got too much. Just, ugh. I have to take a moment and reacquaint myself with the softer side of living.

"Sweet Lord, Sherlock what is that on your face?" She giggles. Molly Hooper was one of the few who would ever giggle at Sherlock Holmes.

"Don't ask obvious questions, Molly. You'll get obvious answers." He doesn't look up.

"Is that my book? Are you reading Harry Potter?"

"It makes no sense. If he's a wizard, what should he care about the rules? At this point that school has proven incompetent. He's learned more by breaking rules than he's learned by—"

"Oh hush. I love that series. You're on the third book already? Do you have the others?" He glances at her over the top of his glasses.

"No?"

"Sherlock, if you wanted to borrow my book you could have asked me."

"I didn't want to ask." Her face is red, her hands on her hips.

"So you just broke in?"

"Of course not. I used a key." He holds up the spare, flourishing it a bit before returning to his book.

"Where did you get that?" He rolls his eyes, snaps the book shut.

"It's incredibly rude to talk to someone while they're reading." She grins at him.

"You would know all about being rude to people. Why are you hear Sherlock? You could have gone anywhere to read Harry Potter. I know Mary's got a good stack of books at John's place."

"Yes, well, they're rather engaged at the moment." His eyes flick up to her and she's sure there's a message to them. She's seen it before, always gone as quickly as it came.

"I'm sorry your best friends been swooped up in love." She's already got her back to him, fixing a dinner of leftovers.

He rolls his eyes, again. She barely catches him as she turns back, a plate balanced on her hand and a glass in the crook of her arm. He witnesses a sly smile creep across her lips.

"What?"

"Nothing, nothing." She glances at him again, their banter returned.

"No, you've got something going on up there, what is it?"

"Glasses suit you. You look very," She pauses, searching for the right word. "Cute. It's a little nice, seeing you look cute."

"I'm hardly cute, Molly."

She sits, her eyes already fixed on the telly, pink covering her cheeks. She misses the slow turn of smirk on his mouth.