I own nothing. Written from this Tumblr prompt:
You taking any prompts? Cuz here I got one and I just love your writting. Mummy Holmes sending baby pictures of Sherlock to Molly's phone, and a very confused consulting detective wondering why every time she sees him Molly laughs (chasing her around to recover the photos and snogging her senseless are plans that sound appealing once he finds out)

Sherlock entered 221B to the sound of Molly snorting and wheezing. Or laughing as she called it.

(He never told her but he found her laugh unbearably cute.)

She was sat at the kitchen table with a half eaten, half forgotten sandwich laying in front of her. Her attention was called to her mobile phone, clutched in her hand, being gripped tightly due to the force of her laugh.

"What's so funny?"

She whipped her head up and upon seeing him, shoved the phone into her cardigan pocket.

"Nothing. Cat video."

"Seriously, what?"

"Stupid internet thing."

"Molly."

...

"Molly, I know when you're lying to me."

"I am offended."

"Right, give it here."

"No."

"Please Molly."

"Oh Christ." She groaned internally. "Not the puppy eyes, anything but the puppy eyes!"

And oh SHIT there they were.

3… 2… 1…

"Fine. You know how we met your mother last week?"

"Oh no."

"We exchanged phone numbers since we want to get to know each other more and… well she's been sending… uh…"

"What? Molly, what?" His tone was threatening and apprehensive. He already knew the answer to his question.

"Well she's been sending baby photos."

"GivE THAT HERE!" He shouted, vaulting over the kitchen table, springing at her.

Molly dashed away laughing, clinging to the phone in her cardigan pocket.

"Oh but you were so cute - AH." He leapt at her and they both landed on the sofa. As a distraction technique he began kissing her passionately which only served in distracting himself. They became a tangled heap on the sofa. He found he often couldn't think whilst kissing Molly. Which was… pleasant.

After a short while he remembered his goal and snuck his hand into her pocket. He whipped the phone away with a triumphant "Ah ha!".

He unlocked the phone to reveal a photo of baby Sherlock laying on Mycroft's ten year old knee, both of them sticking their tongues out at each other. Little Sherlock was in a mustard yellow onesie with the tips of his raven curls beginning to announce themselves on his head.

Molly chuckled from the sofa "It explains so much!"

Sherlock buried his head into his hands. Mummy was going to pay for this.

The baby photo is based off of one of my own eh he he.