This story is a gift for the talented thedragonaunt, whose Sherlolly fics are famously intriguing! Happy Birthday TDA!
Molly couldn't believe her eyes. There, sitting on the desk in her office, was a large bunch of flowers, blooms of all colours, with the most glorious scent.
As she peered down she spotted the card, written in elegant, flowing script.
See you at 4pm. SH
SH? Oh! A warm blush spread across Molly's cheek. She didn't think he'd remember, and the thought that he had made her feel warm and fuzzy inside.
The morning passed in a haze of indecision. He was coming in at 4pm. Was he planning something special? A drink perhaps or maybe even a meal? She wished she had known in advance, because she'd worn her oldest, most comfortable work clothes, and now she felt scruffy.
By lunchtime, she had persuaded herself to dash home and collect something nice to change into, and she made the journey in record time, returning with a new floaty dress that she had treated herself to in the sales, and some strappy high heels.
At three o'clock she tidied her desk, and made her way to the locker room to have a quick wash and get changed. The butterflies in her stomach were doing synchronised aerobatics, and her palms were feeling so sweaty that she had difficulty spritzing herself with her favourite Coco Mademoiselle perfume.
Returning to the lab, she was surprised to see John Watson walking through the door. A quick glance at the clock told her that Sherlock was due any time now, and she wanted to get rid of the blond doctor before he arrived.
"Hello John. What can I do for you?"
"Hi Molly," John looked appreciatively at the way she was dressed. "You look lovely. Going out somewhere?"
"Oh, it's… er… it's my birthday."
Grinning, John stepped forward and gave her a hug, kissing her cheek and wishing her a happy birthday.
She blushed and asked again if there was anything he needed.
"No, that's okay. It's Sherlock, he asked me to meet him here at four."
Molly's eyes widened and she opened her mouth to speak, but before she could do so the door burst open, and Sherlock swept in.
"Ah Molly! Did you get the flowers?"
"Um, yes I did thank you…"
"You sent her flowers for her birthday?" John looked surprised.
"No, I sent flowers because I want to conduct an experiment on her latest donated body."
The tense silence was broken by the crack of Molly's hand connecting with Sherlock's cheek, and the click of her high heels as she walked out of the room.
John looked at his flatmate.
"That," he said gravely, "was a bit not good."