I Knew It!
Disclaimer: I do not own anything.
A/N- Hello guys, this is my first Sherlock BBC fic so please be nice.
"Sherlock, we really have to tell them now."
"What is the point? The only thing they will do it keep bugging us to tell them how it happened." Sherlock kissed the nape of Molly's neck, which made her stop talking and roll around so she's on top of him.
"Sherlock, where are my knickers?" Molly asked the shapeless lump buried in the sheets,
"I do not know, Molly." the deep voices drifted up from the pile of tangled sheets.
Molly continued to gingerly pick around from among the discarded clothing on the floor, trying to find a certain article of pink lacy clothing,
"Sherlock, help me find it!"
Sherlock withdrew lazily from the sheets, completely naked. He grabbed his dressing gown and wrapped it around the still naked Molly. Molly, with her arms strapped to the side of her body by the dressing gown, looked alarmed, and hissed: "Sherlock what are you doing?" Sherlock shushed her and poked his head out of his room, then shepherded Molly into the bathroom of 221B Baker Street. Once the door of the bathroom is successfully locked, he peeled off his dressing gown draped on her and pushed her into the shower.
"Sherlock? Are you in there?" John's voice drifted through the door of the bathroom. Molly squeaked quietly and shoved Sherlock's face away from her neck.
"Yes, John. Obviously." Sherlock shouted back.
"Could you hurry? You've been in there for an hour. I have work at the surgery!"
"Go to your work then, stop bothering me!"
"Sherlock, are you okay? You sound... pained?"
Of Course I sound pained, you just stopped me in the middle of... Sherlock's thoughts were interrupted by Molly slapping his chest and glaring at him, telling him to reply,
"I'm fine, John. I'm fine."
"You sure? Be out in 10 minutes or I'm breaking the door down. Seriously, you have the whole day to shower, why do you have to shower at the same time as me?"
"Go away, John!"
"Finally, may I use the bathroom now?" John asked sarcastically, standing up from his armchair when he sees Sherlock stepping out, wearing his dressing gown.
"Actually, no." Sherlock said, and shoved John so that he sat back down,
"And why on earth can't I use the bathroom of the flat that we share?"
"I have an experiment going on, the tub is filled with severed thumbs I've acquired from Molly. I am observing the rate of time it takes for blood from severed body parts to mix together entirely with a large amount of water."
"Serious? How am I going to shower then?"
"You can shower, I don't mind if you do. Actually, soap will probably add to the..."
"OK, shut up." John stood up and went out the door of the living room to his room.
"Molly, you can come out now." Sherlock whispers into the bathroom, and Molly dashed from the bathroom to Sherlock's room.
"Sherlock, who are you talking to?"
"Billy the skull."
John finally left the flat after getting dressed, and Molly emerged from Sherlock's room to leave as well.
"I have work, Sherlock." she said as she attempted to leave but was stopped by Sherlock lightly tugging at her sleeve,
"I want you to stay,"
"I want to too, but I can't."
And she finally left after a few lingering kisses.
Mrs Hudson went through Sherlock's laundry, even though she always said that she's not his housekeeper, she really cannot stand the idea of all those nice, expensive, and posh clothing lying on the floor, slowly gathering dust.
She hummed to herself happily as she sorted through the pile of shirts and trousers when she suddenly saw a flash of pink in the midst of black. Mrs. Hudson picked up a pair of lacy, see-through knickers with her fingers, and dropped it out of shock, she wondered what on earth a pair of see-through knickers are doing in a pile of Sherlock's clothes.
Mary must have left it here by mistake the other day when they stayed over. She thought, then made a mental note to return the article of clothing to John.
Lestrade strolled into the morgue, feeling especially irritated at the thought of Sherlock Holmes being too busy to help him out, since when is Sherlock Holmes too busy to solve a murder case?
He walked down the hallway, on his way to Molly for a analysis results when he found that the door to the lab was locked. He pushed on it uncertainly and confirmed that it is indeed locked. Knocking on it uncertainly, a muffled squeak and a hush was heard, followed by some scrambling and soon after, a flushed Molly appeared at the door.
"Oh hello, Detective inspector,"
"Hello, Doctor Hooper, is the results ready?"
"Oh, yes. I'll go fetch it."
Molly left the door and went past him to the office, and Lestrade peered in the door to see Sherlock peering through the microscope, his face also flushed and his hair tousled,
"Hey Sherlock."
"Hello, Graham."
"Greg."
"Greg."
He walked behind the bench to stand behind Sherlock, and peered down his shoulders,
"What are you looking at?"
"Oh, nothing in particular, just things for a case."
"You don't have a case, you turned down the murder case, you were busy."
"Not all my cases come from you, not much luck catching the murderer then?"
"How do you- never mind."
"Here you go." Molly entered the lab with a file and handed it to Lestrade, who nodded his thanks.
"Goodbye." he said, Molly smiled and waved a little while Sherlock looked up, glanced at him, then looked back down at his telescope again,
"Oh and Sherlock," Lestrade stopped and walked back beside Sherlock to flick on a switch on the telescope, "you forgot to turn the telescope on."
Molly's face burned red as a tomato as Lestrade walked away with a knowing smile. The sound of a stool being toppled over can be heard as soon as the doors closed.
What did you think? I just realized that John wouldn't need the shower of 221B if he's met Mary...
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