4. Gaming/Watching a Movie

Molly was just packing up her purse in the locker room when her mobile buzzed with an incoming call. She saw John's name on the caller ID and answered.

"Hello, John."

"Hi, Molls. Are you working right now?"

"I just got done with my shift, why?"

"Well, I'm sorry to ask, but could you go to Baker Street and check on Sherlock? He's not answering his phone, and Mrs. Hudson says she's scared to go up there, hearing a lot of shouting and cursing."

Molly's brow immediately furrowed in concern. It was a very bad sign if Mrs. Hudson felt too intimidated to face the consulting detective.

John continued. "I'd go myself, but Mary's working and I don't want to bring Emma to Baker Street if –"

"No, of course I'll go," said Molly hastily, trying to slip her coat on quickly while still talking to John. "Don't worry, I'll find out what's going on and try to calm him down. I'll update you later."

"Thanks, Molls, you're a lifesaver."

"I know, what would any of you do without me," she joked, and they ended the call. In the next minute, Molly was making her way to Baker Street.

Mrs. Hudson just about flung her arms around Molly when she answered the door. "Oh, thank goodness you're here, dear! I can't take much more, and what will the neighbors think?!"

"I'll see what's going on, Mrs. Hudson," replied Molly, hugging the woman back before making her way in and up to 221B. When she got to the door, Molly could hear what could only be Sherlock muttering to himself. She knocked but she heard no movement and the muttering didn't cease. Suddenly, she heard a slew of curse words to make a sailor blush at top volume.

All right, no more miss nice girl, thought Molly, and opened the door herself.

Sherlock was seated in his armchair, and he looked a real mess. His hair was even more voluminous than usual, like he'd run his fingers through it too many times to count. He wore his maroon dressing gown over a shirt and pants that looked like they'd been on his body for too long; his feet were bare. He was hunched over his iPhone, which he was holding horizontally. The muttering had resumed.

Now that Molly was inside the flat, she could hear the sounds coming from his phone, which were familiar to her. It took her a few seconds before she realized what it was, since she had only played it a few times months ago.

You have got to be kidding me! Molly covered her mouth to hide her giggles, and quickly took a photo of Sherlock with her mobile before calling his name. No response.

"Sherlock," she called again, more loudly, and stepped closer.

Still no response.

She repeated this several times before finally losing patience. With a bravery that was pretty foolish, Molly stepped up to Sherlock and grabbed his phone.

"Hey!" he yelled, looking up only to just realize he was not alone. "Molly, give me that back!"

"I think you've had enough Candy Crush for one day, Sherlock," said Molly, exiting the game.

"Molly, no!" Sherlock cried, getting up from his chair and trying to take the phone from her.

"Sherlock, really, you've had enough," said Molly, keeping hold of the phone. We must look like children fighting over a toy.

"Please, I just need to finish this level!"

"Sherlock, enough!"

"Let go, Molly!"

Sherlock, being the most physically strong of the two, pulled hard and got the phone. But as a result, the force of the pull caused Molly to lose her balance. She fell onto the hardwood floor squarely on her bum with a cry and grunt. Sherlock paled and his eyes widened, looking at Molly on his floor.

Looking pained and very annoyed, Molly huffed a sigh and raised herself to her feet. "Ok, Sherlock. You want to waste those extraordinary brain cells of yours? Go right ahead. Just please keep the volume down. You're scaring Mrs. Hudson."

Molly had stomped out of 221B with a slammed door before Sherlock could say a word.

An hour later, Molly was in her own flat. She'd just finished a quick dinner and was settling onto her sofa to watch a movie with Toby. She always preferred a quiet night in after a day of work. And after her encounter with Sherlock, Molly was more than happy to he having a night to herself.

Or so she thought before there came a knock on her front door.

Molly had just been about to start her movie, and she put down the remote control with an eye roll. She knew perfectly well who it would be, and she found she was right when she opened the door.

There stood Sherlock, his hands clasped behind his back and that puppy dog look on his face. "I am sorry. Forgive me."

A few years ago, Molly would have melted on the spot. Now she just sighed and asked, "Candy Crush?"

"Has been deleted from my phone…Are you all right?"

Molly relented and gave him a small smile. "My bum is still a bit sore, but I'm fine. Thank you for asking. Have you apologized to Mrs. Hudson for the noise and John for ignoring his calls?"

"Yes," said Sherlock like a reprimanded child.

Molly gave a nod. "Good."

A moment of awkward silence followed, Molly in her doorway and Sherlock in front of it. He broke the silence almost timidly. "Can…I come in?"

Molly bit her lip. "I was just about to watch a movie, so you'll find no excitement off-screen here."

"What movie?" asked Sherlock, ignoring her last comment.

"Psycho."

Sherlock furrowed his brow. "Interesting. I may have heard of it once…" His eyes widened in horror. "It's not one of those saccharine romantic comedies, is it?"

Molly laughed outright, holding onto her front door. "Oh no, it is not." She paused. "If I let you in, will you promise to be quiet? This is one of my favorite movies, and I know how vocal you can be in front of a screen."

"Promise, I'll be quiet. And if I have a question, I'll just pause the movie so you can answer it."

Molly shook her head fondly and opened the door a bit more for him. "All right, be my guest. I think you might like this movie, actually. The score is performed with only string instruments."

"Really? Then what are we waiting for?" said Sherlock, who looked positively delighted. He walked inside Molly's flat and Molly shut her front door still smiling.

An hour later found the two of them engrossed in Alfred Hitchcock's masterpiece of suspense. Sherlock and Molly were sitting on the sofa. Well, Molly was anyway. Sherlock was lying down, his head in Molly's lap as he watched the film. One of Molly's hands was absently playing with his curls. He knew that she probably didn't even know she was doing it, but Sherlock wasn't about to complain.

It felt, like the film, quite exceptional.

A/N: Hello readers! I couldn't pick one or the other, so I included both. I think we all know that Sherlock would be like that if he was ever introduced to one of those games (how hilarious would that be!). And I think he would like Psycho (fantastic film, by the way), especially if Molly is petting him like that. Read and review, please!