A/N: Inspired by a prompt from forthegenuine.
Molly eyed the small brown glass bottle dubiously. She'd bought it off Ebay from a "genuine witch doctor." Of course, they didn't provide any credentials, just a blurb about training in New Orleans. Normally, I'd never even think of trying something like this but I'm desperate. I've loved Sherlock for so long but he only sees me as a friend, if that.
The instructions said to put two drops into the subject's food. The next morning, Molly waited in the morgue for Sherlock to show up. Sure enough, he swept in at quarter to eleven – curls bouncy, coat collar up, cheekbones razor sharp. His inhumanly beautiful eyes lit up when he saw her.
"Ah, Molly. In need of a pair of gluteus maximus muscles today. If my theory is correct, I may have just solved a six-year-old cold case."
"Sure, Sherlock." She slipped into the cold storage locker and came out with the requested muscles in a cooler. "Coffee?"
He took the cooler, looking a bit torn. "I really should be going."
"It's so dreary outside, coffee will warm you up."
Sherlock gave her a half-smile. "Very well. Meet you in the lab."
Molly almost ran to the breakroom but forced herself to calm down once she got there. No need to spill it all over myself by being hasty. As soon as Sherlock's coffee was done, she added two drops from the vial then decided two wasn't enough, so she added two more. Coffees in hand, she walked to the path lab, forcing herself to be calm.
She found Sherlock at his favorite microscope, smirking. "Just as I thought."
"What's just as you thought?" Molly asked as she set his cup by his elbow.
"All the evidence supports my theory." He picked up his coffee and took a sip then scowled. "Did you put in an extra sugar?"
Molly's jaw dropped so fast she was afraid it was audible. The seller had promised an instantaneous effect. "Um, no, why?"
"It's too sweet, almost cloying." He took another sip, apparently wanting to make sure, his scowl deepening, and he set the coffee down. "Definitely too sweet."
"Oh, um, sorry. I could make you another?"
"Don't bother, I really should be going anyway." Sherlock stood then rolled his eyes as he slipped on his Belstaff and scarf. "You're coming to my 'surprise' birthday party tonight? John thinks he's clever but he's never changed his email password."
John's going to kill him but that's neither here nor there. "I, um, was thinking about staying home, actually. I think I'm coming down with something." What's the best prescription for heartache?
Sherlock looked like he was about to respond then his mobile rang. He waved goodbye distractedly while he talked to Greg.
Molly decided to drown her sorrows in cheap wine and expensive chocolate. Halfway through Pride & Prejudice that night, she heard her front door open. Rolling her eyes, she simply turned up the volume on the TV, hoping Sherlock would take a hint and hole up in her bedroom without disturbing her.
Instead, he sat down next to her. "You know how this ends," he said, baffled. "You've seen this movie 57 times that I know of, you know they're married at the end of it."
She rolled her eyes. "Yes, that's not the point. I like seeing them falling in love. I could watch that a million times and never tire of it." She looked over at him. "Don't you have a birthday party to be at?"
Sherlock smirked. "No one can blame me for not showing up at a party I'm not supposed to know about."
"Right. So, if you're not hiding from an angry John, why are you here?"
"I wanted to see how you were." He made a show of assessing her, though she knew he'd actually done it as soon as he'd walked in. "You're disappointed about something."
"No shit, Sherlock," she muttered then she sighed quietly. "Sorry. I'm just … yeah, I'm disappointed. Something I thought was going to happen didn't." She glanced at the clock. The dose only lasts twelve hours, it's over by now. She looked back at him. "But never mind about that. Is there something you wanted to see?"
They ended up watching the latest big-budget horror flick. At one point, a jump scare had her burying her face in his shoulder. She could hear him chuckling and was about to apologize when she felt him kiss her hair.
?!
She looked up at him and was rewarded with a delighted smile before he lowered his head to give her a toe-curling kiss.
It was the next morning before he finally said the three words she'd been waiting to hear for so long. Molly beamed at him happy. "I love you too. And now I know it's real."
"Real?" Sherlock asked as he leaned to kiss her neck. "As opposed to...?"
"I, um, slipped a love potion into your coffee yesterday." She tensed, fully expecting a lecture on freewill, then her jaw dropped for the second time in as many days when he laughed out loud.
"Oh, Molly," he said fondly after he'd calmed down, "you never needed that – you've had my heart, such as it is, from the day we met." He kissed her again and all thoughts of potions, and everything else, fled.