A/N: Okay, so this one had so many different directions that I've posted one to my tumblr (mythsandmakebelieve) as well.. because I like the variation possibilities. Also Molly is not in this one… but it's still for my OTP! Small and fluffy but I quite enjoyed writing it!
Day 6
Wearing Each Other's Clothes
"Sherlock…" John had walked into the lounge of 221b Baker Street to see Sherlock in a blouse. A rather ill-fitting blouse that was just perturbing to see. There was also a pair of pumps on the end of his toes and … "Is that lipstick!?" John dumped the groceries on the counter and stared at his flat mate.
"Yes." Sherlock kept his eyes closed, hands pressed together as though in prayer but John scoffed at the notion.
"Whose is it?" John asked, Sherlock heard his tone; it was the patient one he used when John wat utterly bemused at Sherlock.
"It's Molly's." Sherlock hummed.
"Why Sherlock?" John was exasperated now.
"Well she likes wearing my shirts so I'm seeing if it works the other way round…" Sherlock cracked open an eye at John's snort. "What?" John was openly laughing now and was soon doubled up against the kitchen counter.
"Oh God Sherlock."
"Molly likes, after sex, wearing my shirt or my pyjama top or even my dressing gown with nothing on underneathand I cannot understand why."
"Sherlock… you strange man… most men do not understand why women wear their clothes, but it's a nice view. I love it when Mary wears my tops when she wakes up." John smiled, interspersed with giggles.
"I don't get it." Sherlock was now frowning but was distracted by the memory of Molly in his favourite dark purple shirt and rolled back onto the sofa without another word.
He thought of how she borrowed his shirts in the morning to make breakfast, a pair of knickers on underneath just visible beneath the dark material. He remembered with a suppressed moan the night she had been in the taxi that was taking him to his place in one of his coats and black underwear beneath. It had been so un-Molly he had secretly checked whether she was drugged or a skilled imposter. Once Sherlock had gotten over the shock and suspicion he had thoroughly enjoyed his evening.
But it still didn't explain why Molly seemed to like wearing his clothes so much; but the blouse was too tight and stretching and the pumps were cramping his toes and Sherlock had enough. Stumbling to his bedroom, he resolved to replace Molly's clothes and figure out another way of solving this puzzle.