Summary: Molly coaxes Sherlock out of a pout and he solves a tiny mystery. Canon-compliant. Pure fluff with a little flirting and a side helping of cake. A missing scene set following the Christening in The Six Thatchers.


Interior of a large room in the church where Baby Watson's christening ceremony took place half an hour earlier. It's the type of multi-purpose room that houses everything from Sunday school classes and social hours to children's music recitals. The space is a long rectangle with polished wood floors, tall windows and a stage, about two and a half feet tall, draped with flowing blue curtains, built along the back wall. Closer to the front, a serving table is set up with cake, tea and a variety of snacks and sweets.

The guests from the christening mill about around the food table. Baby Rosie has just finished a bottle and is currently fast asleep in Greg Lestrade's arms. John and Mary hover close by, waiting for the inevitable moment when Rosie wakes up and realizes Greg is not her mum or dad. Mrs. Hudson has taken it upon herself to pour tea for everyone present.

Alone on the other side of the room, Sherlock paces back and forth in front of the stage, fidgeting and looking annoyed. Molly approaches holding a plate of cake and a cup of tea.

MOLLY (handing Sherlock the cake): What's bothering you? Even Rosie is better behaved today.

SHERLOCK (grumbling): Samarra.

MOLLY: What?

SHERLOCK: Nothing. I'm fine. Or, I would be, if Mrs. Hudson would give me back my phone.

He shoots a disgruntled glare in the direction of his landlady, then turns and half-leans half-sits on the edge of the stage and forks a bite of cake into his mouth. Molly joins him, leaning against the stage and watching the little party across the long room.

MOLLY : She commandeered it for good reason. But, I'm sure she'll give it back if you ask nicely.

SHERLOCK (pouting): I did that. She refused. I picked her pockets, but it's been put somewhere else, for safe keeping, apparently.

MOLLY (with a giggle): She does know you.

Sherlock gives her a sidelong look. He takes another bite of cake, then sets the plate aside.

MOLLY: Oh, cheer up. It's almost over. And the ceremony was nice.

He huffs in response.

MOLLY: The music was lovely, at least.

SHERLOCK (still sulking): If you enjoy listening to Pachelbel's Canon being strangled by a pipe organ.

She tucks her chin and presses her lips together trying not to laugh, but chuckles despite herself.

MOLLY: You're right. That was a bit awful.

The corners of Sherlock's mouth twitch into an almost smile.

MOLLY: Too bad you didn't play your violin. Mary said your lullaby for Rosie is beautiful.

SHERLOCK: It's not finished. I've been too busy with cases. (glancing in Rosie's direction) I really should get back to it.

Molly takes a sip of tea and casts about for a new conversation topic. Her eyes land on the piano in the corner.

MOLLY: I've never thought to ask before, do you play any instruments other than the violin?

SHERLOCK (shrugs): I can play the guitar a bit, never liked it much. Mycroft tried to teach me the piano when I was a boy. I still have nightmares about that.

She glances at his fingers and imagines them eloquently gliding over piano keys.

MOLLY: That's a shame. I'd love to play the piano, even just a little bit. But, I've not got much in the way of rhythm, so I never bothered with lessons.

She sighs with resigned acceptance.

SHERLOCK: Nonsense. I saw you dancing at John's wedding. You'd do fine with piano.

MOLLY: You're fibbing. You left the wedding the moment the music started.

SHERLOCK: No, I... (a bit sheepishly) I watched through the window for a bit. You were hard to miss in your yellow dress.

Molly sets her tea cup down on the stage and shifts, angling her body slightly toward his.

MOLLY: I know you wanted to dance. I'm sorry...

SHERLOCK: I liked it, you know. Your yellow dress, that is.

MOLLY (pleasantly surprised): Did you?

SHERLOCK (reaching over and brushing a finger across the top edge of her bodice): This one suits you even better.

Her eyes flutter closed and she draws in a slow breath as his fingertip lingers on the edge of her dress, just above her breastbone. He leans towards her. Suddenly, Molly opens her eyes. She shoos at his hand, and stands to move a few inches away.

MOLLY (scolding, but without venom): I know what you're doing, Sherlock, and it's not going to work.

He drops his head and looks at her through his curls with what can only be described as big puppy-dog eyes. Molly blows out an exasperated breath, rolling her eyes.

MOLLY: Oh, for Christ's sake. Just have it.

He grins victoriously as she reaches down into her bodice, retrieves his phone from somewhere inside her bra and drops it unceremoniously into his hand. She turns and strides back toward the main group, where Mrs. Hudson is now having a turn holding the baby.

Sherlock watches Molly walk away, then unlocks his phone and sends a text.

I need a favor. -SH

The reply comes almost immediately.

What now, brother mine? -MH

Teach Molly Hooper to play piano. -SH

Certainly Not. -MH

###