I own nothing!
When Sherlock walked into 221B at the end of a long day of work the first thing he noticed was a pile of blankets on the sofa. Those weren't there when I left…Wait, they're moving! In a moment a head peeked out from underneath the blankets and Sherlock saw that the figure was his girlfriend Molly Hooper.
She looked like a wreck. He almost told her that, but realized quickly that that would be the wrong choice. Instead, he asked "What's wrong?" in the most empathetic tone he could manage. (After all, he and Molly had only been living together from three weeks and he had no idea what to do when she was like this.)
"Oh, I just had a really shitty day at work. Had a row with Mike and he sent me home early. He said that if I stayed any longer he might get out of control and fire me without even meaning to. It was just a misunderstanding, and I think he was having a bad day as well, but I just feel so bad now and all I want to do is stay curled up in a ball forever. But don't worry about it. I'll be fine in a bit."
For a moment, Sherlock thought about taking her word for it and just leaving her alone as it would be easier, but then he looked down at his girlfriend and saw tears collecting in the corners of her eyes. This is my job now. I am the one who is supposed to make her feel better. I want to make her feel better.
"Okay, just hold on, Molly." the detective said as he rushed into the kitchen. He had to push aside several experiments just to reach the stove, but once he got there he put the kettle on. Then he started poking around in the pantry to see if they had any comfort food. (He didn't really know what they had in the flat because Molly had decided that she would do the shopping since the only things Sherlock liked to buy were coffee and chips.) To his dismay, there were only healthy foods in the pantry and no biscuits in sight.
Quickly gauging the time before the tea would boil, he decided that he had enough time to rush down to Mrs. Hudson's flat and borrow some biscuits if she didn't want to talk for very long (unlikely, he knew).
So, Sherlock rushed down the stairs and into Mrs. Hudson's flat without knocking.
"Oh, my, Sherlock you are in such a rush!" exclaimed the startled landlady.
"Yes, well. Very busy. Molly is sick. Can I borrow some biscuits?" he asked, practically running all the words together.
Mrs. Hudson smiled, grabbed a box from the countertop and handed it to Sherlock, saying "Only if you promise not to give them back when you're done!"
Sherlock took the snack and forced a laugh before running back up to his flat just as the tea was boiling. He put together a tray with the tea and biscuits and presented it to Molly, who just grunted.
"Come on Molly, please eat something. Or at least have a little tea." Sherlock pleaded. The lump on the sofa only groaned again. Sherlock felt himself beginning to panic. "Okay then, lets watch some telly. What's the show you like? Downton Abbey? Let's see if that's on." Another groan and possibly a sob came from his girlfriend.
Sherlock decided to take a break from trying to cheer her up, and just curled up next to Molly. Her head suddenly popped out from under the blankets and she smiled a teary smile for the first time in hours. She adjusted herself so that she was properly cuddling with Sherlock and he draped his arm around her. Soon enough she had fallen asleep in his arms and he carried her off to bed.
When he laid her down in their bed (she had woken up a little), she whispered, "Next time, don't bother with the food or the telly. Just cuddle me like that and everything is alright."
He kissed her on the forehead. "Note to self: always snuggle with Molly. Got it." She fell asleep smiling.