I don't own anything Sherlock. All I wanted was to post a nice Sherlolly New Years fic. It's not smutty. There's no cursing. Did someone report it and get it removed? Dunno, but there may be a glitch. So if you're reading this, hooray! It appeared again! But if not, then you can always read it on AO3! Way to ruin a person's New Year :/
Anyway, for all those who had already favorited and posted wonderful comments, I thank you xoxo
"Well, I guess it's just you and me then, eh?" Molly shifted shyly as she stood by the mantel piece of 221B. A warm fire crackled in the fireplace while dim lighting cast a yellow glow throughout the Baker Street flat.
Of course, it was baby Watson who had been the first to crash. Being a toddler still, midnight was an impossible feat to stay awake for. Mrs. Hudson had been next. She sat in John's usual armchair most of the night, consuming more wine than was likely sensible. She only made it until eleven and had been snoring lightly ever since. Mary and John had hung on for longer. Having nestled together on the leather sofa, it wasn't long before parenting got the best of them. John had managed to go from leaning on Mary's shoulder to being fully sprawled out in her lap. The two of them had drifted out of conversation and nodded off by a quarter to twelve. That left Molly and Sherlock as the only two still fully conscious and awake. Fifteen minutes felt like a lifetime when trying to make small talk with the infamous consulting detective.
Molly stared at her wine glass, swirling the red liquid into a gentle vortex as she tried to think of clever things to say. Sherlock loomed nearby, the flames reflecting in his translucent irises, seemingly lost in thought. Then, coming to Molly's rescue was the distant chime of a clock tower's bell. Midnight.
Clung
"Happy New Year, Sherlock!" exclaimed Molly quietly, so as to not wake the others.
Sherlock turned and nodded in her direction, giving her a brief smile.
Clung
"You know, people often kiss one another at midnight." The words slipped out of her mouth without mediation.
Clung
Her eyes darted upwards to gauge his reaction. He shot her a confounded look to which she nervously added: "Silly tradition, really."
"Absurd." He confirmed and resumed his gaze upon the fire.
Clung
Molly cursed herself, tightening the grip on her glass in frustration. She squeezed her eyes shut and hoped the low-lighting would mask the embarrassment flushed in her cheeks.
Clung
She took a deep breath trying to clear her mind. When she opened her eyes she was startled to see that Sherlock had moved in front of her.
Clung
Molly's pulse quickened and her pupils dilated as the attraction between them livened once again.
Clung
Sherlock drew nearer, icy eyes staring hauntingly into her own. She felt her knees weaken.
Clung
He bend his head, carefully placing his lips on hers. They were warm and soft, flooding Molly with the sensation of a million butterflies taking flight within her stomach.
Clung
She felt a curl ghost over her forehead as it lost its hold in the mass of Sherlock's hair. A shiver ran down her spine.
Clung
Molly canted forward, leaning into Sherlock's kiss ever so slightly. The grip on her wine glass loosened and the liquid dangerously neared the glass rim.
Clung
Then, calmly, he leaned back. His expression formal and unchanged. The only notable difference was in his eyes. As Molly peered into them, they seemed warm and kind. She smiled.
Clung
"Happy New Year, Molly Hooper." He beamed back.