No claim to these characters.
"She has the British government in her bed. " The mere thought makes Molly smile. It's 3 A.M and she's wide awake under the realization she'll probably be sore in places she's never been sore before. The fan is on and making rather odd, slow, long lazy shadows on the ceiling. She's noticed he looks odd when he's sleeping, like the tense-ness he hides everyday plagues him at night. Normally it's the opposite with people, sleeping like a baby and all that but Holmes's never could be ordinary.
His umbrella is quite casually leaning against the wall and his suit jacket is tucked neatly onto a chair. His breathing is slow, a bit uneven and warm on the back of her neck. It's constantly warm, sleeping with him. He's a cuddler, where he likes it or not, and he's rather fuzzy. It's not a turn-off but it is odd when your past few lovers have apparently believed in full body waxing. It's just more one thing that makes him so undeniably human, and one more thing Molly Hooper was astounded to learn. He's also very precise and worried about birth control, and she's sure it isn't just about catching diseases. Picturing him with children is an odd but slightly heartwarming picture. But it's just an impossible as her with a child. Neither one can afford the risks. It's just too dangerous. She indulges the thought of a small boy with auburn hair and blue eyes but mentally tucks the file away. The last thing she needed was to slip up and mention it to him.
It's so surreal sometimes, this masquerade of a relationship. They don't love each other and they probably never will but they do need each other. They need the almost awkward mornings, the nights that are strictly releasing about tension, passion, anger, and sadness and all the other emotions they can't let loose in the daytime, the pretending when they meet in public. This partnership so to speak, will not last forever but for the time it does it is rather nice. Occasionally he's above her and she imagines curly black hair and ice blue eyes and she notices a change in his demeanor and suddenly she knows he knows. But she knows just as well that he occasionally sees someone else in her place as well. She might have minded if it had been any other person on the planet but she's too mentally tired to complain about such a small thing. Having a warm, breathing human body wrapped around her is just such a beautiful feeling and she gets so lonely sometimes it hurts. He shifts in his sleep and his arm brushes against her hands and she goes still. He doesn't need to wake up yet. She likes the stillness and quiet and she lets herself relax and think for just a few more moments.
Perhaps Sherlock was the catalyst for this, and perhaps he was never needed for this to happen but it's rather childish on the level it makes her happy that he wouldn't have deduced this in a million years. Not the fingerprint bruises on her hips, the red marks on her shoulders and lower neck, the ache she feels when she gets up in the morning. They are well past any form of modesty or shyness. It's comforting in its own way.
But alas it is still 3am and Molly Hooper still has a shift at nine. Mycroft Holmes might still be in her bed when she wakes up or he might not be. She doesn't pretend to have any claim over him. But she is well aware that he will be back when he leaves and that thought alone is comforting enough.