Given that I'm sitting here on a gloriously hot, summer's day it seems only right to start posting this fic. It's nothing more than a fluffy, smutty romp that I needed to write to give me a break from a Ripper inspired crime fic that I'm working on...you'll probably get that one next.

Anyway, I hope you enjoy it.

Chapter 1

It had been a long, cold winter followed by a wet, grey and dismal spring and Molly's mood felt as though it was at rock bottom. She had spent the last few months either at work or helping John with Rosie and hadn't even taken a break at Christmas.

The weather had definitely turned and they were even expecting a mini heat wave but she had hardly noticed...there wasn't much sunlight in a morgue.

John had noticed and commented and told her to take a break and get some sun but she had just brushed him off...she was needed here. He needed her, Rosie needed her and Sherlock might...

She stopped herself and took a deep breath, trying to calm her emotions.

The previous year had been the worst year for all of them. Losing Mary at the start, Sherlock's descent back into drug use and then everything that had happened with his sister. They had put it all behind them and picked themselves back up but the ripple effects were still hitting them...memories, awkward conversations, silences. She felt closer to Sherlock in someways and in others more distant.

He treated her with respect and kindness now, he never deduced or insulted her; no false compliments. But there was a barrier there...an unseen, unspoken barrier but one she felt all the same. It was as though he was keeping her at arm's length and she didn't know why.

She sighed and rolled her shoulders, stretching out her back as she finished sewing up one Barbara Godwin, aged 62, died from an infection following a routine gall bladder removal. Looked like they needed to deep clean upstairs.

SHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSH

Sherlock sat in the darkened front room of Baker St and tried to ignore his best friend. He felt as though he had been in a bad mood for months. The only things which seemed to lift it was seeing his god-daughter, Rosie, and spending time in the clean and clinical lines of the lab at Barts. The former distracted him and the latter seemed to still his raging thoughts; it was like being in the eye of the storm when he sat quietly working either on his own or alongside Molly.

At the thought of Molly he immediately stood and tuned into whatever it was that John was talking about.

'...so you see, I think we all need a break. A bit of time away, get some sunshine. What do you think?'

Sherlock huffed and rolled his eyes. 'I think you're being ridiculous. Why can't you just relax at home? And what does getting some sun even mean? You'll just spend the whole time worrying about putting sun cream on Rosie and complaining that she's unhappy which she will be because you've taken her out of your normal routine.'

'But what about Molly?'

Sherlock frowned and turned to John who at that moment flung open the curtains near the settee. It made him wince at the brightness as it flooded the apartment with light.

John sighed dramatically. 'You haven't listened to a word I've said have you?'

Sherlock wandered over to the kitchen to see what body parts he had in his fridge...maybe he could think up an experiment to fill his time.

'John, I only ever listen to about a tenth of what you say. Most of it is mundane small talk and not worthwhile listening to.'

'Well, I was saying that Molly needs a holiday. She's looking too pale and tired and I know that she's helping me with Rosie in her spare time and...well...I feel as though I owe her. It would kill two birds with one stone because I need a break as well.'

Sherlock, who had been peering into his fridge stood up so fast he almost banged his head.

'What? You and Molly away together.'

John had followed him and sat down on one of the kitchen chairs. 'And Rosie...yes. Why what's wrong with that?'

Sherlock asked himself the same question. What was wrong with that? Two single adults, both helping to parent Rosie...going away together...He felt strangely unnerved at the thought but didn't quite know why.

'You can't afford it...can you? And what about time off? As a locum you'd lose money.'

'Life isn't all about money Sherlock as you well know...anyway when have you ever cared about my finances or your own for that matter?'

Sherlock shrugged off the point as his mind rooted around for another solution.

'Maybe I should come with you...maybe I need a break as well.'

John let out a barking laugh. 'You? Take a break?'

Sherlock slammed the fridge door in irritation. 'Yes, why not...we could use Uncle Rudy's villa in Torquay. I just need to call Mycroft and get the key and we can go whenever you like.'

'Your Uncle Rudy had a villa?'

Sherlock rolled his eyes. 'In Torquay...yes. Keep up John it's not that hard. My parent's used to take Mycroft and myself in the summer holidays but I haven't been for years. Mycroft inherited it and apart from my parents using it it's shut up for most of the year.'

'OK, right...well thank you Sherlock, that'll be perfect. And you're sure you want to come with us?'

'Yes, why? Is there any reason you don't want me there?'

It was John's turn to frown. 'No, of course not.'

He continued. 'I'll fix it up with Molly, we can agree on the dates and then we can be off.'

When John left, Sherlock roamed around his flat, carrying a cup of lukewarm coffee with him and feeling more than a little unsettled. He wasn't quite sure why or how he had ended up asking to go on holiday. He hated holidays, there was never anything to do other than sit around plagued by your own thoughts. But for some reason he had hated the idea of Molly and John leaving him. At that moment he had a sudden image of his two best friends kissing; he had no idea where it had come from and he just turned and threw the cup at the wall watching as it shattered and the liquid started to roll down the wallpaper.

'Gah...there is no reason why they shouldn't be together...none.'

He needed a case, needed a distraction, anything to stop him thinking because he felt as though he was going insane. He turned and made his way to his bedroom to dress, maybe Lestrade would have something.

MHMHMHMHMHMHMHMHMHMHMH

It was just over a week later that Molly found herself wheeling her suitcase through London's Paddington station looking for John and Rosie. He'd mentioned that Sherlock might come along as well but neither of them really believed he would...the image of Sherlock on a holiday just didn't even register; Molly couldn't even imagine such a thing. It was good of him though to provide somewhere for them to go and she was excited to see what it was like.

She saw him before she saw John and she felt her stomach drop away just as it always did when she saw him unexpectedly.

For once he wasn't dressed in an expensive suit but instead he was wearing a pair of dark blue jeans and a white shirt...untucked no less. He was carrying a hold-all and a suit bag as well as wheeling another case behind him, apparently arguing with John who was wearing a large backpack and trailing along behind him with Rosie in a stroller.

She grinned to herself. They looked to all the world like an old, married gay couple. She also knew that John would hate it if he knew that and that Sherlock would be ambivalent...he didn't seem to have a sexual bone in his body and he certainly wouldn't care what impression he made on others.

She pulled her case along behind her and grinned as she approached. 'You decided to come along then? I didn't think you would.'

Sherlock frowned. 'I said I would so why would you think I wouldn't?'

'Oh I don't know, I thought you might get distracted with a case or something.'

He huffed. 'What time's this train then John? I hate waiting.'

John pulled some tickets out of his back pocket and checked them whilst Molly gave Rosie a kiss and picked up a raggedy teddy bear that had just fallen out of her stroller.

'Five minutes on platform 6. Come on, this backpack's killing me, I can't wait to take it off.'

'Stop complaining at least you haven't got to carry your suitcase as well...' Sherlock gestured to the blue case he was wheeling behind him. Molly just grinned once more as she followed behind the bickering couple.

It wasn't long before they were settled in first class on the train. John was next to Rosie who was by the window and pointing excitedly at the train on the opposite platform. Molly had therefore ended up sitting next to Sherlock who also had a window seat. She tried not to think about how close his arm was to her or the way his leg nudged against hers occasionally. Instead she engaged John in conversation by asking how long the journey was.

'Just over three hours. I just hope we can keep the toddlers entertained.' He nodded slightly towards Sherlock and Molly giggled.

'Yes, haha very funny John. I think I can manage a train journey.'

Two hours on and Sherlock wasn't so sure. He'd been trying to organise his thoughts when he'd realised that Molly was leaning against him quite heavily and he looked to his side to find out that not only had she fallen asleep but that John had also. That left him in sole charge of Rosie who now had her back to him and was trying to stand up on her seat.

He coaxed her back down and picked up one of her story books but he was a bit hampered by Molly and the seat arm between them. In the end he lifted the barrier out of the way and put his arm around Molly so that she was more secure against his body as she slept and then he started to read the story to Rosie. To be honest he was glad of the distraction...not from the tediousness of the journey but from the feel of Molly pressed up against him. It wasn't something he was used to experiencing and he was finding it strangely pleasant. Maybe he'd been missing human contact. The only time he ever really touched or held someone else was when he picked up Rosie. Was it such a surprise that he would need human touch just like everyone else?

When he finished the story Rosie banged her hands on the table and shouted 'gainagain...locklock' and it was enough to wake up John who struggled to open his eyes, yawning and rubbing his hand over his face.

'God, did I fall asleep? Has she been OK?'

'She's been fine but I'll let you read the next story.'

He tossed the book over towards John and settled back more in his seat with Molly nestled against his chest and he saw John raising his eyebrows.

'Yes, I see you have your hands full. Comfy there?'

'She fell asleep, it didn't seem right to wake her.'

'Oh right so you just thought you'd cop a feel whilst she was sleeping.'

Sherlock looked horrified for a moment. 'I'm not copping a...Oh very funny John. I'm just being a friend that's all.'

'Friendship hey, that's what you're calling it. Well, for what it's worth I think you two look good together.'

Sherlock just huffed and looked out of the window ignoring his best friend who was still chuckling to himself. He couldn't quite bring himself to shrug Molly off though.

The scene is set and the players in place...I hope you like the idea of a holiday fic and fancy joining me on the ride. As always I'd love to hear what you think xx