The sun glared through the windows, resting on Sherlock's face as he slept. He scrunched up his eyes and pulled the hood of his pyjamas over his head.
"Close the curtains," he grumbled.
Molly groaned and rolled on her side, the sun hitting her back. She opened an eye and looked at Sherlock. With his monkey onesie on and his hood over his eyes, he looked like a monkey. The ears stuck up and the embroidered face looked as though it was his own.
She laughed and draped her arm over him. "Oh sweetie," she giggled and rubbed his arm.
"Great," he grumbled before getting up, "now I'm not getting back to sleep." He closed the curtains and got back into bed. Despite closing his eyes, he couldn't get back to sleep. Sherlock blamed Molly for that, as she wouldn't stop laughing. "Oh, give it a rest."
A/N:
Here we switch to 'Pet Names'. YAY! Of course, I don't speak French so... I dunno if this is legit or not. I've just had to use them French sites. Oh well. No matter. It'll work in the long run anyway :)
Molly and Sherlock sat on a train from London to Moscow. They had already gotten through three hours and they still had forty five remaining.
She was sitting on her bed and Sherlock was lying down, his head in her lap. They had a book each that they were reading. Sherlock had already deduced the murderer and Molly was grimacing, feeling second hand embarrassment. She looked up at Sherlock and frowned.
"What about 'sweetie'?" Molly suggested.
The detective scrunched his nose. "Really?"
"For me."
"Sweet as you may be, I don't think I am capable of uttering those words for fear of self-destruction."
A few hours later. They were playing Mario Kart when Sherlock knocked her off the track.
"How about 'my love'?"
"Excuse you," she said, "it's 2013, not 1613."
Ten hours into their trip and Sherlock was seeing how long he could lie over the bed and let the blood run to his head for.
"How about 'babe'?" Molly asked.
Sherlock snorted. "What are we- a group of teenaged girls?"
Snickering, Molly cocked her head and smirked. "Fluffy?"
The detective looked up at his girlfriend and frowned. "Excuse me?"
They ate dinner and Sherlock frowned. "Precious?"
"That certainly has a nice ring to it…" she trailed off and gave him a pointed look.
"Oh," he said and nodded. "Lord of the Rings. Right."
About twenty hours into the trip, Sherlock had started to doze off, his arms around Molly. They laid in the bed, cuddling as they started to fall asleep.
"Forget English," Sherlock muttered. "Another language, maybe."
Molly yawned and buried her head into his chest. "Mmm."
Once they had woken up and were having breakfast, Molly stabbed her food with her fork.
"You said 'forget English'," she said.
He nodded. "Indeed. I'm not a fan of the English terms of endearment."
"Well, what about 'Mi Amor'?"
"Hmmm…"
As the thirty two hour mark hit, Sherlock put down his third book and looked at Molly.
"'Schätzchen'," he said.
She looked up at him and frowned. "What?"
"'Schätzchen'. It means 'little treasure'."
Molly smiled. "It's cute."
He sighed. "Cute? Never mind."
"Well," Molly started, "what about 'mon Chouchou'?"
"I'm content with that."
Molly smiled. "Me too. Especially because we had our first date in Paris."
Smiling back at her, Sherlock cupped her cheek with his and rubbed her cheek with his thumb. "Ma chérie," he muttered.