lilsherlockian1975 wrote a post on tumblr questioning: "Anybody else want to see the lovely little awkward moment in TEH when Molly takes off her jumper? Because she has it on, then she doesn't… Did she do it in the bathroom? Did she do it in front of Sherlock? Dying to know how that went down… anyone else?"

And it got my mind wandering and my muse up and running ... and this here is the result, hehe ... Hope you like it Lil!


Jumper Removal


Molly had just gotten off of the phone with her fiancé Tom, a faint smile upon her lips, when she was alerted by an incoming text. She swiped the screen and saw that it was a message from Sherlock.

Baker Street.
Come at 12
. – SH

A second later another one followed.

Please. – SH

She hesitated for a couple of moments, tapping the edge of her phone against her bottom lip. After slowly letting out a breath she typed back a reply.

Ok. - Mx

A minute later she was startled out of a daydream when she received another text.

Thank you. – SH

Molly stared down at her phone, certain that Sherlock had never thanked her before. Not once. She swallowed, her heart starting to beat more quickly. Was he in danger again? Did he need her help once more? She didn't know if she could put herself through the agony of helping him to fake his death once again! She mentally shook her head, berating herself for jumping to such a ridiculous conclusion. Moriarty was dead. She took in a deep breath and slowly let it out, before placing her phone down on her coffee table and getting up to walk towards the kitchen. She was in desperate need of a cuppa.

She absently-mindedly twisted her engagement ring around her finger as she waited for the kettle to boil. When she realized what she was doing, she stopped and stared down at the diamond ring.

Ahh yes, Tom. Her fiancé. He and Sherlock would have to meet eventually, that couldn't be avoided. She started to fiddle with the ring again. When she had agreed to marry Tom, she had begun to believe that perhaps Sherlock would never come back. But now here he was, in London, asking her to come to Baker Street. Was it wrong that she was silently thanking the heavens that Tom had to go away for the week-end for a conference in Edinburgh? Before she could conjure an answer to that question the shrill cry of the kettle made her jump.

Two hours later she was standing outside of Baker Street. Just as she was about to ring the bell, Mrs. Hudson opened the door.

"Oh hello, Molly dear! I was just about to nip down to the corner shop, go right on up, Sherlock is waiting for you."

Molly stepped inside and undid her coat as she climbed the stairs. Upon entering the flat she spotted that Sherlock was stood at the window, wearing a maroon dressing gown. His back was to her. "You wanted to see me?" there was a slight lilt to her voice as she asked this, causing a blush to rise to her cheeks.

He turned, facing her, their eyes meeting. "Yes." He took a step towards her, and another. "Molly?"

"Yes?"

Why was her heart suddenly beating so heavily?

Sherlock continued to slowly move closer to her. "Would you …" He stopped walking, hesitating, before taking another step towards her. "Would you like to …" He appeared to be nervous, making her wonder what it was that he was trying to ask her.

The words left her lips before she could stop them, "… have dinner?"

"… solve crimes?"

They had spoken simultaneously.

"Ohhh …" Her cheeks were now burning.

He coughed, and blinked rapidly a few times, as he looked off to the side. She momentarily wished that the ground would open and swallow her up. Swallowing her embarrassment she gave him a small smile.

"I'd love to."

He looked at her, a look of relief crossing over his face. "Good." He then swept passed her, moving towards his bedroom. "Our first client will be here in ten minutes."

She slipped off her gloves, tucking them into her coat pocket. Just as she was about to take off her coat she felt Sherlock's hands on her shoulders, helping her to remove it. "Oh! Ahh – thank you."

He said not a word as he hung it up beside his Belstaff. She moved until she was stood in the center of the room, uncertain of what to do with herself. Sherlock walked passed her once again, allowing her to see that he had replaced his dressing gown with a suit jacket. He picked up a chair that had been by the table and placed it directly beside his own. He silently gestured towards it and she sat down. He sank into his chair and steepled his fingers. She turned herself slightly and looked at him, not at all realizing that she was yet again twirling her engagement ring around her finger.

He pressed the tips of his fingers against his chin. "The first two clients are dismal, boring, but needs must." He gave a dramatic sigh as if it were a cross he often had to bear. "But Lestrade has an unsolvable one for me; that should be good. Hopefully." Sherlock eyes briefly flitted towards her.

The sound of the doorbell made him jump to his feet. The first client had arrived. Molly stayed seated as a tall, well-dressed man with a rather matronly looking woman beside him entered the flat.

"Mr. Holmes?" the man asked, holding out his hand.

"Yes. And you are Mr. and Mrs. Harcourt," His was a statement, not a question. Sherlock beckoned towards John's old chair. The woman sat, the man stayed stood beside her.

Sherlock turned to Molly. "This is Molly Hooper, my …" he stopped, not finishing the sentence; the couple taking no notice.

But Molly did. She swallowed hard. Sherlock turned back to face the couple.

"I understand your old alma mater is Cambridge, Mr. Harcourt? You studied beneath Professor Presbury did you not?"

Molly bit down on her bottom lip to prevent herself from smiling, knowing that Sherlock was merely wheedling the man to allow himself to gain more deductions.

"Err – ahh yes," Mr. Harcourt replied.

"I once met Professor Presbury; he had some rather wild ideas did he not? Wrote an entire paper on –" Sherlock stopped, having stepped towards the sofa facing his wall of clues. "What was it? – oh yes - Monkey glands!"

Molly had to hold in a laugh, wondering what Sherlock was about. He turned back around and walked back over to them.

"But enough about Professor Presbury. Tell us more about your case, Mr. Harcourt."

Molly looked up at Sherlock as he moved passed her. She asked quietly, "Are you sure about this?"

He looked down at her. "Absolutely."

"Should I be making notes?"

Sherlock's brow furrowed the tiniest bit. "If it makes you feel better."

"It's just that that's what John says he does, so if I'm being John—" Her voice trailed off as she watched Sherlock drop slowly down into his chair.

"You're not being John – you're being yourself," he explained to her.

She couldn't stop a smile from coming to her lips, her heart beating heavily once more.

The first case was solved minutes later; a sad, sordid affair, ending with Sherlock handing the woman a card for a divorce lawyer. Once they were gone Sherlock was back on his feet, moving about the room.

Molly, having become a bit warmer than when she first arrived at the flat, stood up to take off her jumper. She grabbed the hem and slowly tugged upwards, lifting it off. Once she had cleared it passed her head she folded it and draped it across the back of the chair. As she smoothed a few tendrils of hair that had come loose from her ponytail she took notice of the fact that Sherlock's pacing had stopped. She looked at him, wondering why he was staring at her with that funny expression.

"Who is the next client?" she asked him.

He continued to stare at her, not blinking.

"Sherlock? Are you all right?"

He still didn't blink.

Molly took a step closer to him. "Are you in your Mind Palace?" She waved her hand slightly in front of his face before dropping it back down to her side when she realized that she was in fact wrong. His gaze was far too intense, and far too-locked on her to be inside of his mind. She licked her bottom lip, and suddenly he snapped out of it.

His eyelashes fluttered then he began to blink rapidly. She leaned back slightly, looking more directly up at him. His gaze dropped briefly downwards before shooting back up to meet her confused gaze.

"You ok?" she asked him.

He swallowed. "You took off your jumper."

She smiled slightly. "Excellent deduction," she teased.

He frowned.

The doorbell rang, making him look away from her. He strode towards the door. She chuckled softly to herself, a bit shocked but also rather pleased that she had the ability to make him flustered. She could only wonder what might have happened if the next client hadn't had such inopportune timing. She smiled, determined to get as much fun out of this day as she could.


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*giggles*

Well there you go ... I might have perused screencaps of these scenes ... and I might have not. I also might have watched it too ...

Be sure to let me know what you think :) And don't forget I'm on tumblr at sherlockian87