"You know.. We've known eachother for years Sherlock.. But we don't really know eachother.. Anything about one another."
It was quiet and lonely in the lab. Molly was filling out paperwork and Sherlock was analysing samples he'd experimented on dozens of times before, with lack of a better thing to do.
This thought had just occurred to Molly. She was in one of those moods. Hours went by slowly, work was never completed, and she would just think the most random of thoughts.
"You're Molly Jane Hooper, 35 years old, father died from pancreatic cancer when you were young, birthday is.."
"No no no, that's not what I mean," she cut in, "I mean.. Those little things.. Like
how you like your toast in the morning, or your favourite sandwich filling, or your favourite animal.."
"Jam. You like jam. By the looks of things, strawberry."
"That's exactly what I mean! You know that because of deductive reasoning.. Not because you've ever found out properly.."
"Why bring this up?"
"I don't know! I just.. When I have a thought I say it.. And if there's something I want to say but don't then I regret it.."
"Like what.."
"Like what, what?"
"What have you ever regretted not saying to me?"
"Umm.."
Molly hesitated for a moment, then decided she would be brave. For sake of boredom.. Obviously..
"...How sexy you look when you bite your lip.. How you always find a way of getting what you want.. I find it fascinating how you just see through people.. How you look at me sometimes.."
"How do I look at you..?"
Whilst Molly had been too busy rambling about Sherlock, she hadn't noticed how close he had come.. He must've been about a metre away, prior to this, he had been a good 8ft from her..
Molly took a breath..
"Like.. I'm some sort of mystery.."
"You are.."
"I am?"
"Absolutely." He smirked, and moved several inches closer.
She was determined to win this battle.
Every single time he would flirt, or smirk, or just speak, and could win her over, knowing full well just how easy it was, and exactly how she'd react.
"Then you act so vacant.. Like you never even considered me for a moment. You just carry on being Sherlock, all wonderfully brilliant and deductions."
Molly looked down for a second and gaped..'What. Am. I. Saying.'
"Wonderfully. Brilliant. And. Deductions?" He quirked an eyebrow, purposely splitting he sentence up to sound more questioning.
"You know what, we're completely getting away from the point.."
"Nonononononononono.. Not getting out of it that easily.."
"Goddamn."
"Go on.."
"Well.. You're rather endearing I suppose."
"No ones ever described me as that before."
Sherlock was quite literally whispering into her ear. Molly didn't know what to say, instead concentrating on breathing.
"Anything else you'd care to mention?"
"Yeah.. Get out of the way." Molly then placed her hands on his chest and promptly pushed him out of the way, however in doing so, she made her position worse, as Sherlock grabbed her by the wrist, spinning her round, so she was pressed against the counter, his arms around her waist.
"No no no.. You can't just make me feel like this then leave."
"Ehm
Well, I wasn't convinced you feel things"
"Though it may have not crossed many people's minds, I am still human. I am a human male, and human males definitely feel things."
Sherlock pressed his lips to her neck, and Molly took a startled breath.
"What the bloody hell are you doing?"
"Whatever I want."
"Not here though, eh?"
"Where then? I'm not waiting?"
"If you want it that badly, you'll wait."
"When then?"
"Drop round mine tonight at 8."
And with that, Sherlock smirked, kissed her on the edge of the mouth, removed his hands from her waist, and headed back to his samples.