221B BAKER STREET - CHRISTMAS EVE 2015
Sherlock Holmes was fully prepared to admit that he had A LOT to make up to Molly Hooper for.
There was:
· That disastrous Christmas party.
· Going back on drugs, even if it had been for a case.
· Janine, same reason / excuse as above.
· Refusing to initially tell her who had shot him.
· Killing Magnussen.
Not to mention all those times he'd heartlessly complimented and manipulated her to gain access to the morgue, or to use Bart's lab equipment or obtain various body parts so he could perform his experiments.
It made for quite an impressive list.
She put up with all his demands and unkind comments. She was the only one who truly saw him, and she continued to stand by him, through the good and the bad.
They'd started out as colleagues, become friends, and since the whole 'Moriarty Video' fiasco, their relationship had become closer.
Sherlock had never been particularly comfortable being intimate, having always maintained an aversion to the bodies more primitive and basic needs, as well as the emotional sentiment that went along with it.
Of late however he'd found his mind much preoccupied with the notion of taking the plunge into the wayward stream of intimacy. For a man so usually expert at using words, there were still three little ones that he hadn't spoken to Molly, even though he knew that those words described exactly how he felt about her.
So, since he couldn't say it in words he planed to show her as eloquently as he could with his body, but how to go about it?
There was also the question of how he could make up to her for it all that he needed to apologise for.
While searching through his Mind Palace for the answer, his eyes lit up as the perfect solution came to mind. "Of course!"
MOLLY'S FLAT – CHRISTMAS MORNING
Molly Hooper got out of bed, pulled on her dressing gown, quickly putting a brush through her hair before heading into the kitchen.
Toby was immediately at her side, brushing up against her leg and purring loudly to get her to give him his breakfast, before she had her morning cuppa.
Morning routine complete Molly headed into the sitting room.
The sight that greeted her caused an enormous grin to spread across her face. Clearly Santa believed she had been a very good girl this year.
Sitting in amongst the presents under her Christmas tree sat Sherlock, dressed in his usual tight-fitting trousers, her all-time favourite purple shirt, (the one with the buttons that were constantly in danger of breaking free every time he takes a breath.) And, unusually for Sherlock, his feet were bare. Wrapped around his neck like a scarf was the list of all the things he needed to apologise to her for.
Molly walked over to the seated detective and bent down to inspect the tag attached to the shirt, right near the overstressed buttons. It read: "To my beloved Pathologist. From her adoring Consulting Detective."
"Do you like your present?" Sherlock asked sounding decidedly nervous.
Molly responded by taking hold of his hand and pulling him to his feet. Using the list around his neck as a lead she led him down the hall and into her bedroom, shutting the door behind her, much to Toby's annoyance.
Sitting Sherlock on the side of her bed Molly stood between his legs and made quick work of removing the list and tag. She then leant forward and kissed him. As her tongue slipped between his parted lips, her fingers set to work undoing the straining buttons.
"Molly…" Sherlock groaned as she rained kisses down his throat, sucking enthusiastically when she reached the juncture between throat and shoulder, clearly determined to leave a mark.
"Shhhhhhh…" she responded as her lips trailed after her dexterous fingers that continued undoing one button after another.
By the time she'd pulled the shirt from his trousers they were both breathing heavily.
"I've finally received the one gift I've always wanted," she said as she reached down undoing the zip of his trousers. "And now I intend to unwrap it, and explore it thoroughly from top to bottom."
Sherlock could only moan his whole-hearted agreement.