"What are you going to give him for birthday?" Mary asked Molly when they were having their weekly tea time in the lovely coffee shop round the corner from Barts.
The date was nearing the 6 th of January, the ominous day of one consulting detective Sherlock Holmes' birthday. Mary and John had spent the previous weekend on a shopping trip with the special goal of finding the man a present that he'd like. A difficult challenge, obviously, but they managed to come up with an idea they both approved and realize it.
Mary knew, however, that this task was not going to be easy for Molly as well. Figuring out a gift for Sherlock, whom she had been already dating for 8 months, was really going to take the last of Molly's little grey cells. Or so Mary thought. Fortunately she, like many others before her, underestimated the powers of Molly Hooper. Molly knew exactly what Sherlock wanted for his birthday.
"It's a secret," Molly replied to Mary's question, smirking and sipping her tea with a mischievous expression.
Mary only wiggled her eyebrows in return, which made Molly blush.
When the 6 th of January was finally there all Sherlock could hope was that everyone had forgotten the date. Early in the morning his hopes were crushed when John got to the crime scene and congratulated him on his birthday, which, of course, everyone heard, followed by a very surprising amount of happy wishes from the forensics and NSY teams. The felicitations were only accepted because of Sherlock's bafflement - he just stared at them with wide eyes.
Thoroughly annoyed by the day Sherlock got to the Barts morgue in a foul mood. He knew that Molly was going to be in so he made his way to the lab after discovering the cold basement empty. Right now he needed her – her insight to the case, her second opinion, her help and most of all her ability to intuitively sense what he wanted.
The lab was empty. Sherlock frowned.
Molly's coffee cup was warm on the table so it couldn't have been long since she went out. Most likely she just went to get some Quavers from the vending machine by the canteen. Sherlock had made up his mind about wanting to see her, so he sat down behind the microscope to wait and peeked in to see what she had been working on. Nothing interesting, as it turned out, so he averted his attention and gazed around in the room to see if something fascinating caught his eye.
He spotted a red box with a black bow on one of the tables. He stared at it for a second, trying to deduce what was inside – fruitlessly. He looked at it for a second and then back at the microscope. Then back at the box and back at the microscope. Making up his mind, he quietly rose, peeking around to see if he was alone. He walked to the table and gently grabbed the label on the present. "To Sherlock. Love, Molly xxx," it read
The detective grinned smugly. So it was his gift. He considered opening it but then decided against it. Molly wouldn't be pleased to hear that he had done so without her. He set the tag like it had been before and walked back to the burst in the lab a second later.
"Sherlock!" she exclaimed.
He nodded as a greeting. "Molly."
Molly smiled widely and went straight to the gift box. She almost skipped to Sherlock and thrust the present in his hands.
"Happy birthday!" she wished him and kissed him sweetly on the cheek.
Sherlock eagerly put the box next to the microscope and opened the lid, only to be surprised. Molly looked at his face and frowned.
"You don't like it?"
Sherlock's eyes widened even more as he looked at her. He grabbed around her waist and lifted her up as he spun her around in his arms, kissing her jovially. Molly was breathless. He put her down again, still not releasing her and kissed her forehead.
"It's perfect. Exactly what I need apart from you."
A pair of hands in a jar could be seen in the large red gift box.