This is just a real silly bit of a fluffiness that involves one of my favourite tropes.

Yes, I am posting two ficlet's today ;)

Enjoy!

Gone on Holiday

"Pure bliss!" Molly thought to herself as she entered her bungalow. She dropped her suitcase and hurried over to the sliding doors, opening them wide and stepping out onto her balcony. She breathed in deeply, taking in the salty sea air. Never had she seen water so blue, she couldn't wait to delve into its glistening, beckoning depths.

Hurrying back inside she unzipped her suitcase and pulled out her bikini. She quickly changed, lathered on some suntan lotion and hurried out onto her balcony, towards the stairs that led down to the water.

"Oh yes! Most definitely bliss!" She let out a happy sigh as she sank into the warmth; it was almost like getting into the bath.

After swimming about for a few minutes, working out the kinks and aches from traveling for hours, she got out of the water and stretched out on the lounge chair, basking in the heat of the sun. It felt like it had been years since she had last seen the shining orb. Winter in London had been dismal; she was so glad that she had made the decision to go on holiday. She had waited long enough. She deserved this.

Stretching her arms above her head she let out another happy sigh. An entire week away from London! No autopsies. No Barts hospital. And NO Sherlock! She couldn't keep in a giggle when she thought of how disgruntled he would be when he found out that she had left. The horror that he had to work with another pathologist!

A snort erupted from her when she too thought of the strop he would be in. She rolled her eyes, wondering how on earth she had managed to deal with the man-child for the amount of years that she had. There was a faint twinge in her heart, and she knew straight away the answer. It was because she loved him, and that she would always love him, no matter what.

She got up and went back inside to unpack so that she wouldn't have to do it later. Grumbling beneath her breath that if the git would just up and admit that caring was in fact not a disadvantage, he would then perhaps be finally able to tell her how he felt. She knew that there was something there, it couldn't be denied. The moment he had landed on the tarmac after Moriarty's reveal the first thing he had done was demand that she would be taken somewhere safe.

As soon as it had been discovered that it was only a Faux-riarty, and they had been taken care of, Sherlock had started to spend more time with her. He asked her to join him on cases, using the excuse that because of Mary nearing her birth-date John did not want to leave her alone. More often than not, Sherlock would partake in a meal with her afterwards, take away usually, which always ended in watching some crap telly. He had also been spending more time at her flat, claiming that the emptiness of his own was boring.

There was also the fact that they had become accustomed to sharing her bed. At first he had been using the one in her spare bedroom, before claiming that it was too small. So she had offered him her own bed, and that she would use the spare room one. Sherlock had scoffed at this, telling her that she would do no such thing, that they would sleep in her bed together. She had never once considered him to be a cuddler, but she had woken up each time in his arms.

With a smile on her face Molly finished unpacking and returned to the balcony, before delving headfirst into the water. An hour later her jet lag was beginning to kick in. She took a quick shower, pulled on a pair of knickers and a vest before slipping beneath the cozy sheet and down comforter. She hummed happily, snuggling down as she hugged a pillow to her chest. The doors were still wide open, sending in a salt-sea breeze. Within minutes she had fallen asleep.

Three hours passed by in a dreamless state; until a seagull cried out as it flew over her bungalow and jolted her awake. She groaned rolling over, away from the light, but when she rolled into something hard and warm she let out a loud yelp; very nearly flying backwards off of the bed.

"SHERLOCK!" she shrieked, sitting up as she grabbed her pillow and gave him a solid wallop. "What the bloody hell are you doing here?" She gave him another whack for good measure.

He grabbed the pillow, tossing it to the floor. "You left. Left without telling me where you were going! What else was I supposed to do?"

She crossed her arms over her chest. "Leave me alone you dolt!"

He pouted. "You honestly want to stay here, in a place like this, all alone? I thought these bungalows were meant for couples."

"Yes, they are. And it's been a dream of mine to stay in one of these. Tom and I were going to come here for our honeymoon ... but seeing as, thanks to you, all hopes of that ever happening, as well as any other relationship I opted for going by myself!"

Sherlock looked at her silently for several moments.

Molly took a steadying breath before saying, "If you came here just to convince me to go back to London, it's not going to work. I paid for a week, and I am staying a week."

"You came all this way for only a week?"

She fixed upon him a withering look. "It was all I could afford."

They grew silent.

"May I ... may I stay?" he asked meekly.

Molly had been staring down at the sheet, but her eyes snapped up to him. "You want to? There are no cases here, Sherlock. No dead bodies, no crimes to solve, no mysteries. This is a place to relax, have fun. You can do all that?"

He shrugged. "It's worth a try. Besides, London is freezing right now. And it seems as if all criminals have taken a note from your book ... gone on holiday."

She rolled her eyes. "Fine. Stay. I'm going back to sleep." She laid down with her back to him, and closed her eyes. She hadn't expected to fall back asleep so quickly, but within minutes she had. Half an hour later she woke with a gasp, her heart pounding.

"Molly?"

She took in a deep breath. "I'm fine. It wasn't even a bad dream; I don't know why I woke myself up." She took in another breath, hating the fact that the dream, even though it hadn't been scary, left her feeling slightly uneasy. Without even thinking she rolled over and pressed herself against him.

Sherlock smiled, putting his arm gently around her. She snuggled against his chest, closing her eyes. He couldn't stop himself from thinking back to all of the times they had slept together like this. It felt natural, comfortable, as if it should always be like this. He swallowed, realizing and coming to terms with what these feelings meant. His arm around her tightened slightly. Could he within the week convince her of how much she meant to him? Would he allow himself to do so?

Thoughts flooded and overwhelmed his brain with how he had felt when he realized she had left without saying anything to him. Anger and disappointment had filled him when he discovered that both John and Mary had known. Why hadn't she told him? A sudden sinking feeling settled in his stomach. She hadn't told him because he would have tried to stop her. He frowned, glancing down at her sleeping form.

"I don't deserve you," he murmured softly.

Molly stirred slightly. "Yeah you do."

Sherlock froze. Had he heard her correctly?

"Go to sleep Sherlock, we'll talk more later."

He blinked rapidly then slowly put his other arm around her, holding her close.

It was nearing sunset when Molly woke. Sherlock's body was pressed up against the back of her, his warm breath tickling her neck, his arm tucked around her torso. She lay there, reveling in the heat of him, staring out at the water.

Suddenly he stirred, his lips brushing against her skin. She shivered slightly, and he chuckled, the vibrations from his chest rumbling against her back. She gave his arm around her a gentle nudge and he lightly loosened his hold so that she could turn and face him.

"Are you going to tell me why you are really here?" she asked him.

Instead of giving a verbal reply, he cupped her head with his hand and captured her lips with his own. Without a single moment of hesitation she returned the kiss. He moved onto his back, pulling her on-top of him. His hands drifted downwards, his fingertips brushing over the backs of her thighs. He smiled against her lips when he felt her body shudder against his.

"I knew you would follow me," she whispered breathlessly when they at last pulled apart. She brushed her fingers over his cheekbones, locking her gaze with his. "Mycroft told me that it would take something drastic for you to confess how you felt about me. He mentioned a fake-kidnapping, I told him no. I didn't think you'd appreciate that. I thought this was the better choice."

Sherlock frowned.

"It worked didn't it?" she said to him, shifting her body slightly.

A delightful thrum surged through his veins in result to her movements. She smiled cheekily, moving again. His eyes narrowed, and he let a low growl. She giggled then laughed delightedly as he swiftly rolled her onto her back so that he was now above her. She continued to smile cheekily at him. He kissed her again. She hummed into the kiss, pulling him down close to her. They didn't part until they were both desperate for breath. Sherlock mouthed at her throat before pressing his forehead into the crook of her neck.

Molly nuzzled his hair with her nose, breathing in the scent of him. "The surrounding bungalows are empty, Mycroft made certain they would be so. We're entirely alone," she whispered to him, taking a nip at his earlobe.

Sherlock's hand slipped beneath her vest, his fingers running over the smoothness of her stomach. He pressed a kiss to her skin before raising his head to look down at her. Molly crossed her arms over the back of his neck.

"Oh ... and Mycroft paid for a second week. He wanted to pay for the whole thing, but I refused."

Sherlock smiled. "If you're going to become part of the Holmes clan, and I have full intentions of you doing so, then you best get used to Mycroft giving you things. He can afford it, he is the British Government!"

Molly rolled her eyes, but gave Sherlock's curls a tug so that his lips could be put to better use. But before their mouths met she stopped and said to him, "Oh, and one more thing. I have full intentions of returning to London with a tan!"

Sherlock began to pout then a wicked gleam entered his eyes. "We'll see about that!" he announced in a challenging tone.

Molly's squeals of delight filled the room as he kissed her soundly.

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Heh. Hope you liked. You probably hate me for not having any smut in this, sorry! It's the way my brain decided to write it! :-P

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