With a sigh, Molly leaned her head against the window in the taxi as it drove her home. Today had been a pretty busy day at work and she was eager for sleep. Hell, she'd almost fallen asleep if it weren't for the cabbie turning around and telling her that they'd arrived at her destination.

Molly somehow managed to get out of the car, pay the man and head up to her flat, albeit slowly. Her footsteps were heavier due to how tired she was and when she reached in her purse to pull out her key, the door in front of her opened. Sherlock stood before her with a smile on his face.

"I was wondering when you'd get here. Normally, your shift ends at five." He glanced at his watch before ushering her inside.

She plopped down on the couch while he closed the front door and locked it. "I had to do a couple extra hours since Mitsy wasn't there. She was sick."

"Tsk, you look a bit tired. What have you eaten today?"

"Um...a salad and a few breadsticks."

"Was there any meat in the salad?"

"No."

"Then it makes sense that you're tired. You need protein."

"Well, all they had in the canteen besides salad was meatloaf and lobster. You know I hate seafood except for fish and meatloaf is awful." She yawned and closed her eyes, pulling her feet up on the couch.

"Ah, ah, ah. No sleeping."

"Why not? I'm tired."

"Okay, but not on the couch. You should sleep in your own bed."

"You'll have to carry me, then, because I feel like a slug."

Sherlock chuckled as he picked her up in his arms. "Maybe, but you're an adorable slug."

A sleepy mumble was the only answer Molly gave him.

When he reached her bedroom, he sat her on the bed and divested her of her jacket, shirt, pants and shoes. Her bra took a bit of work, but he managed to remove it and tug one of her sleep shirts over her head.

Sherlock felt her hand touch his arm and he looked into her questioning gaze. "What is it, love?"

"You smell like lemon. Have you been cooking?"

He had. Today was Valentine's Day and Sherlock had planned a wonderful meal for his girlfriend in her flat before she came home so they could celebrate together. The main dish was lemon pepper chicken with a side dish of rice pilaf and steamed vegetables. After they'd eaten, dessert would have been chocolate mousse. Sherlock had learned to make it for one of his older cases a few years back.

It was a shame that Molly had to work overtime. Otherwise, everything would have been perfect. But Sherlock would just have to put the food in the fridge and wait until tomorrow. That was okay. He could wait.

"Yeah. I made us dinner."

"Oh, no. Darling, I'm sorry. Let me get up and we can eat it." She tried to stand, but Sherlock stopped her.

"Molly. Tomorrow is another day. We can celebrate then. I don't want you to stay up any longer if you're sleepy. Your rest is far more important than this silly holiday."

"But you went to so much trouble for me and I didn't even know it."

Sherlock ran his hand through her hair and kissed her forehead with tenderness. "And I'd do this a hundred times over."

"You know just how to say the right thing."

"You deserve it," he replied.

She hummed and snuggled close to him. "I love you, Sherlock." In a few minutes, her breathing grew more deep and irregular until she had fallen asleep.

Sherlock ran his hand through Molly's hair and kissed her forehead with tenderness. "I love you, too. Sleep well."