"Gimmie a hug."

John obliged, setting aside his paperwork and opening his arms as Molly stepped into them, squeezing.

"Better?"

"Better." He kissed her gently before he released her and she went back to the kitchen.

Sherlock became accustomed to his two flat mates demanding signs of affection from eachother. Generally it was rather rudely put, but neither seemed insulted. It usually happened once or twice a day, for no apparent reason other than the want for physical contact. Sherlock supposed he could live with it. After all, they were married.

"Gimmie a kiss," John demanded and Molly leaned over. "Mmm, gimmie 'nother,"

"Bossy," she scoffed and kissed him again.

"Thank you."

"Are you off to go dare and do?"

"Yep," Molly set his scarf around his neck and tied it.

"Be brave, shoot straight, don't let Sherlock do anything his brother can't fix or you can't mend," Molly replied cheerfully. He kissed her once more, following Sherlock out the door.

John returned later that night, weary, and limping, the case was especially rough. Molly was at the counter, heating a plate of food for him when she felt his arms encircle her, his head against the back of her shoulder.

"Gimmie a hug," he mumbled against her shirt. She pressed his arms, turning around in them so she could face him. She kissed his forehead, his eyelids and his cheeks.

"Bad day was it?" she asked softly.

"Hm."

In a few weeks, with the serial killer caught, Sherlock came skipping up the steps, carting bags of food from their favorite Thai place.

"Molly! It was the garbage man!" he crowed. John, glad the case was over, brimming with excitement, sprinted up the steps, happy he could spend the night with his wife.

"Gimmie a kiss," he grabbed her by the waist, kissing her neck as she squealed, laughing. "'Nother," he demanded, kissing her again and she laughed harder, wriggling in his grasp. Sherlock rolled his eyes, opening the food containers and plopping down in his chair. Eventually he'd have to learn to ignore it, but for now, he supposed seeing his two closest friends happy in each other and their signs of affection was rather, dare he say it, endearing.