The air was cool and crisp, autumn leaves crunched beneath her feet. Dense fog swirled around, creating an eerie atmosphere. A long black trench coat clung to her curves, tied at the waist. Her loosely curled hair, made to look natural, was covered with a deerstalker. Using her key to enter the building, she was greeted by Mrs. Hudson.

"Molly, dear, what a lovely costume," the elderly landlady laughed. "Whoever could you be?"

"Thanks," Molly smiled with a small laugh. "He'll probably tell me to bugger off." The pathologist continued up the stairs and entered 221B.

"Molly is that you?" Sherlock called out from the kitchen.

"Yeah, it's me," she confirmed. "I brought over some films to watch too." It was Halloween night and despite Greg's invite to the NSY costume party, Sherlock opted to stay home. He was not one for frivolous costumes unless it was being in disguise for a case. John was out with Rosie trick or treating in the meantime.

"Delightful," he remarked, stepping into the sitting room. "Molly."

"Hmm?" she asked, knowing full well he was about to do what she had told Mrs. Hudson he'd do.

"Are you—" he paused "—supposed to be…me?" Molly blushed furiously.

"Um…yes?" she replied, not meaning for it to come out as a question.

"Suits you," he smirked.

"R-really?" Molly asked in bewilderment.

"Mm," he hummed in approval. "The hat looks much better on you."

"So, you're not gonna tell me to bugger off?" she questioned.

"No," he chuckled. "It's quite the clever costume."

"A compliment to me that also compliments yourself," Molly teased. "Of course."

"You know me well, Molly Hooper," Sherlock grinned cheekily.

They were in the middle of the second cheesy slasher film, a bowl of popcorn between them. Every now and then, their fingers would brush against one another. Electricity sparked their now racing hearts. Sherlock found he loved the feel of her smooth skin beneath is calloused fingers. He wanted more; to caress her cheek and feel her lips against his. They had become practically inseparable since the events of Sherrinford months ago. Sherlock would even go as far to say that Molly was his best friend, aside from John. He never told her he meant the words, as she understood it to be an act to save her life.

A scream sounded from the telly as another character was murdered, snapping him out of his thoughts.

"The killer is the creepy janitor, duh!" Molly shouted at the movie.

"The janitor, Molly, really? Could you be more obvious?" Sherlock responded with a huffed laugh.

"It's always too obvious in these movies, Sherlock," she replied, throwing a small handful of popcorn at him. When the killer was, indeed, revealed to be the janitor, Molly threw a smug smile towards him.

"What," Sherlock sighed in defeat.

"Say it," Molly told him.

"YouwererightIwaswrong," he mumbled unintelligibly.

"Like you mean it, Sherlock," she insisted. "I barely heard that."

"You were right, Molly, I was wrong," Sherlock managed through his teeth. "Satisfied?"

"Yep," Molly smirked.

"Sherlock!" Lestrade shouted upon entering 221B. Molly jumped, essentially knocking the bowl of popcorn onto the floor.

"Who's the winner now," Sherlock laughed heartily. He picked a piece of popcorn from her hair before popping it in his mouth.

"Shut up," Molly giggled, playfully bumping into him with her shoulder. Greg looked at them impatiently. "Sorry."

"There's been a murder; pretty gruesome," he explained. "We haven't any leads."

"Of course you don't," Sherlock rolled his eyes. Molly flashed a glare in his direction. "I mean, we'd be happy to help."

"We?" Molly asked. "You want me to come with you?"

"You dressed the part; you get to live it now," Sherlock smiled. Lestrade was a bit confused until he watched as Molly pulled on her coat and deerstalker.

"Ah, I get it now," he chuckled. "Pretty funny; looks better on you." Sherlock glared at Lestrade heatedly. He sighed inwardly at his jealous streak; it did nothing but get him in trouble with Molly, so he reeled it in as best as he could.

"Ready to go?" Molly chirped. Her enthusiasm in being involved with his chosen profession perked him up a bit. Oh, how he loved her.

"The game is on!" he announced with a wink sent her way.

Author's Note: I know Halloween isn't typically celebrated in England, but this is too good! Plus, it's for one of my besties as an early birthday present! Let me know your thoughts! I have some prompts to fill for the Sherlolly Prompt collection before I start on chapter 2, but I assure you I have a night of mayhem planned for these two.