"Are you absolutely sure this is a good idea?" Molly looked up, trying to catch his eyes with hope her concerned ones may change his mind.
"Of course it is. This is my apartment, after all…" Sherlock smirked as he pressed the key into the lock and opened the door to the building.
"I still think we should wait until John returns..." She murmured as they walked in.
Sherlock ignored her comment as they walked up the stairs Mrs. Hudson greeted them "Ooh hello you two! Sherlock, you here for the boxes?"
"Indeed I am Mrs. Hudson…"
"Well that's good. Will you be needing any help?"
Molly answered "It's alright Mrs. Hudson, Sherlock already asked me to help him, we'll be fine."
"Ah cheers. Well it's very nice of you to help while John is on his honeymoon, I'll make some tea for you two, come on down if you'd like."
With a last exchange of smiles, Sherlock and Molly went upstairs to unpack, while the landlady put the kettle on.
Oddly enough, most of the boxes were in the kitchen rather than his room. He stepped into the kitchen and opened a random box, inside was his old microscope. His lip twitched in amusement as he pulled it out and placed it on the table. Next, he fished out several folders and notebooks, he read his old experiments, some that he had not yet finished before disappearing for three years.
After several seconds of indulging in the past, he felt Molly's presence in the room. She stood next to him, opening a second box.
"No," He said "Let's bring them to John's room." He explained after she looked at him with confusion.
They grabbed three boxes, Sherlock had two under each arm and Molly carried one in hers. They reached John's empty bedroom and placed the boxes on the table below the window.
"John won't be returning?" Molly asked.
"Of course not, he's moving out with Mary."
"Oh." She nodded, refraining from asking him whether he'd get bored here all alone.
Instead they kept moving boxes around the flat.
Soon the entire kitchen was just the same as it was three years ago, chaotic.
Molly tried to convince him to make some form of organization system, even the most basic one will do, but it was to no avail.
Sherlock moved into his own bedroom and unpacked a few personal items, meanwhile Molly unpacked in the living room.
She grabbed three science books from the third box and placed them on a shelf next to the fire place. She reached for the same box, thinking it was empty, but a small weight surprised her as she raising the box from the floor.
Her hand slipped into the box and her fingers touched a cold, hard surface.
She pulled the item out of the box and her jaw dropped.
In her hand was and elegant, silver magnifying glass with the initials S.H. engraved on the corner of the glass. Molly's breath hitched, she turned the magnifying glass in her hands. She studied the fingerprints on the glass and the metallic handle, it seemed worn out, over-used.
She looked up to the mirror and noticed a figure in the entrance of the living room, her head whipped back to look at Sherlock. He stood with his hands in his pockets, biting his lip.
She smiled, twirling the magnifying glass in her hand "You kept it."
His eyebrows knit and he began walking towards her "of course I did," he stood in front of her and took the object from her little hand "it has been of good use to me." He flipped the gift in the air and caught it with ease.
Her gaze dropped, holding back an enormous grin. Suddenly, her mind sent her back to that Christmas day when she gave him this gift. She crossed her arms subconsciously.
Sherlock eyed her, recognizing the embarrassed flush of her cheeks.
"Thank you…"
Her gaze glided upwards "Hmm?"
"I apologized, back then, at the party, but I never…" He sighed "I never properly thanked you for your gift. I do use it, quiet a lot actually, especially during the last three years."
"You took it with you?"
He nodded and reached into his suit pocket, pulling out a small piece of paper "This too…" She held the small slip of paper between her fingers. She smiled lightly at the photograph, it was of hers and John. She was wearing that damned black dress but had a small jacket on as well, John had one arm thrown across her shoulders, meanwhile her arm rested on his back. The photo was taken after Sherlock departed into his room, after which, Molly decided it was all too much and pretended to receive an emergency text calling her to come to the hospital as soon as possible. Before she left, John insisted to take just one photo, both he and Molly forced themselves to smile, but it was good enough.
Molly traced the photo with the ends of her fingers, and felt a little dip in the paper just where her face was printed.
She looked at Sherlock, noting his darkened eyes. They smiled simultaneously, she tittered in delight as he chuckled with his fantastic, deep voice. Molly began feeling a light, warm flush building up in her chest as Sherlock felt a much heavier, but equally warm sensation in his core.
Seconds later, her upper lip met his. With a sigh, the magnifying glass and the photo fell lazily on the stand above the fireplace as he nibbled on her lower lip and she traced his cupid bow. Her fingers outlined his cheekbones, his cupped her cheeks.
"Have you finished mmh… unpacking in your bedroom?" she asked between kisses.
"Yes." He breathed in and smiled against her lips.
"Good." Her hands held on to his neck as they began making their way elsewhere.
Almost 2 weeks later:
"Sherlock!" John raised his hand up in the air as he got out of the airport, the tall man turned in the mention of his name, and smiled.
As John's hand intertwined with Mary's again he saw Sherlock turning and speaking to himself.
No, not himself.
"Molly?" John asked as he reached the tall man and, apparently, the pathologist.
Mary took less time questioning as she beamed and hugged her friend, they exchanged a few updates as the two men exchanged theirs.
"Come on," Sherlock finally said "Let's get to the car."
Sherlock and Molly took the lead, walking side by side. The pair in front and the married couple behind them could not hear each other's conversation because of the crowd around them.
"Does something seem" John's forehead wrinkled "different to you too?"
Mary followed his gaze to the pair in front of them, her head tilted to its side…
Sherlock turned to Molly, noting the sly, yet surprisingly childish smirk.
He returned an equally wide smile.
"Do you think they should know?" She asked him.
He sighed "they'll figure it out sooner or later…"
Sherlock reached for her, she slipped her hand in his with ease.
John and Mary Watson dropped their jaws to the floor and jumped up and down like school children almost all the way home.