"Erm, no."
"Excuse me?" Molly raised her brows.
"You don't want to write that."
She made a sound of irritation. "You don't even know what I am writing."
His eyes constricted and he inhaled swiftly. "Yes, I do. It's a maid of honor speech. Your little sister is getting married, or half-sister, should I say? Ten years your junior, indulged by your mother, you two don't really get along – should I continue? She only asked you to stand up for her because she likes to rub her relationship in your face."
Molly rolled her eyes and looked back down at her laptop on her lab bench. She had written and rewritten the same opening paragraph countless times. She sighed.
"How do you know all that, Sherlock?"
He cleared his throat and looked away. "I know everything about you, Molly."
She snorted as she glanced back at him. "You can't possibly know everythingabout me."
His cheek jumped as he thought about something. The he smiled tightly.
"Mycroft has a file."
Molly pursed her lips.
"Of course he does," she said after a while. "God forbid I have any privacy!"
Sherlock shrugged. "I also read between the lines. There is an undercurrent of resentment in the tone of your words. I would advise against excessive use of the term 'so' as it will end up connoting the opposite of what you intend."
Molly wrinkled her nose as she appraised her speech. "What are you talking about?"
Sherlock pointed at her first couple of sentences, lifted his chin and blinked as if readying himself for an oration.
"Ahem, 'when my little sister first asked me to stand up for her, I was so honored. I am so happy for her and Joseph because they are so perfect for each other. They love each other so, so much. Need I go on? 'So' appears about a half-dozen more times before the paragraph is over."
Molly's spine stiffened. "I don't resent my little sister."
His lips poked out for a second. "Ah, yes you do. Don't fret, she resents you too. You cancel one another out."
Molly pushed her laptop aside and dropped her head to the lab bench. She groaned.
"Pfft, I hate that you can read me so well," she muttered.
"The feeling is mutual," he sighed.
Molly snorted and then guffawed. Then they both started laughing. Sherlock slapped the bench as he bent over. His deep chuckles mixed with her giggling filled the lab. She wiped tears from her eyes and clutched her sides.
"Oh, my, we are a pair, aren't we?" She panted.
He wheezed. "Christ, Molly, I can't hide anything from you. I dread to be around you sometimes almost as much as I long for it-"
Molly's laughter dried up almost as quickly as Sherlock's mouth clapped shut. She shook her head. Did she just hear what she thought she heard?
"Mm, ahem," he mumbled. "Erm, y-your speech! Right! Can I be of any assistance?"
She blinked several times and opened her laptop with a trembling hand. He had to have misspoken, or she imagined it. Yes, there was no way Sherlock longed for her in any way, shape or form.
"Ah, I-I suppose it wouldn't hurt for you to help."
She fluffed her lab coat. Heat flushed through her body. She felt very hot all of a sudden.
He reached towards her computer. "May I?"
Molly gulped down an awkward breath. "Yeah, um, yes! Go ahead."
Sherlock's fingers flew over the keys as he typed.
"Your speech doesn't have to be that long," he glanced up at her, "I know you do not like to be the center of attention. A few sincere sentences ought to suffice."
She leaned on her elbow, rested her chin on her palm and watched in fascination as he poured his thoughts into his writing. He had such an intense look in his eyes. Every so often they would constrict or his eyelids would flutter as he paused to think. His lips moved absentmindedly as he mouthed the words appearing on the screen. In a few short minutes, a smile tugged the corner of his lips and he turned the laptop with a flourish back in her direction.
Molly's eyes went wide. "Done?"
He jerked his chin and half-raised his brow. "Mm hmm."
She reluctantly looked down at the screen knowing his words would put hers to shame.
"My sister and I have not always seen eye to eye. We disagree about a great many things, but one thing we have in common is that we both do truly love one another. I feel honored and privileged to have this exceptional person in my life because without her, I feel I would be missing a part of my soul. My sincerest wish for her future is for her to be happy, to always feel loved and to continue to share her love unashamedly with the rest of the world because her devotion, once you have obtained it, is a precious and rare gift."
Molly felt tears burn her eyes as soon as she finished reading the short blurb. She choked up as she looked at Sherlock.
"That is so very beautiful," she whispered. "It's perfect. Thank-you."
She stood up quickly and hugged him around the neck. He was stiff for a moment, but then she felt his hand slide around her back and press her against him tightly.
"It's nothing," he returned. "Just words."
She lifted her head to look at him.
"No, there's love in what you wrote, Sherlock Holmes. Y-You must have been inspired by someone, someone you love. Who is it?"
He sucked in a breath as his eyes searched her face. His lips parted.
"You."