A/N: Hey guys!

May want to revise Day 2: Holding Hands. Thanks for all the beautiful and great reviews, I appreciate every single one of them! I didn't make 1,000 words so i added another short story here for you after this one.

Ever since the death of Toby, Molly couldn't look at animal ears without crying. They always made her think about her late cat and how adorable he was. It was something that had plagued her for months.

On the birthday of Toby, October 31st, she sat in her flat with a bottle of wine and the box set of Glee, along with tissue.

There was short sharp rapping on the door for the first time that night and Molly was quick to grab the bowl of treats she had partially consumed. She ran to the door and opened it, looking down slightly, expecting to see a child. Instead, standing there was a man dressed in black with curly black hair, white stripes on his cheeks and a black triangle painted on his nose. Cat ears stuck out of his curly hair and he smiled at her.

"Trick or treat?" Sherlock asked and she beamed at him.

"Sherlock, wh-what a surprise!"

"I knew you were feeling down, especially today and especially about cats so I asked Mrs Hudson to make me a cat outfit and she did the makeup and ears for me."

Without a word, Molly flew into his arms, stray tears escaping as she thought about what he had done for her.

"Thank you, Sherlock. Thank you so much," she whispered before beginning to sob into his chest.

"Anything for you, Miss Molly Hooper," he whispered and she released him before motioning for him to enter her flat.

The tears were running freely down her face and it gave Sherlock a strange, unusual feeling in his chest, almost as though his heart was squeezing.

"Are you alright? You have a pained look on your face," she told him and he frowned at her.

"I think I'm feeling. I think you're making me have feelings. What have you done, Miss Hooper," he teased before pulling her to the couch. He pulled her onto his lap and wrapped his arms around her.

Molly Hooper fell asleep in Sherlock's arms as he rubbed her back gently. Eventually, he fell asleep as well so the two of them were curled up on the couch.

~oOo~

Molly woke up and made breakfast for the two of them. When Sherlock had to leave, Molly burst out into laughter, pointing towards Sherlock's bottom.

"What- oh, you didn't see my tail yesterday?" he asked and she blushed before shaking her head.

"It suits you, by the way, being a cat."

Sherlock rolled his eyes and scoffed at Molly.

"Anything suits me, I rock it with a certain passion that no-one else can capture," he told her before winking and walking out of the flat, leaving Molly confused and intrigued as to what he's "rocked" before that gives him such certainty to his words, a mystery she knew she'd never solve.

Although, Mycroft might tell her…

Free one-shot because day 10 was too short. Prompt from: pet names. I found it online, can't post the link, my apologies. No spoilers from season 3… I hope.

The thing Molly loved the most about the two years Sherlock was "dead" was that he called on her. She was needed whenever his alias needed a girlfriend or wife. What she loved so much was the look he gave her (forced out) when they were incognito.

She thought, with Sherlock coming back, everything would go back to normal. Boy was she wrong.

"Cinnamon, I need a knife," Sherlock said one day, his eye pressed into a microscope.

"What did you call her?" John asked, noticing the blushes that formed on both of their faces.

"I don't know what you're talking about. Molly, knife," he snapped, clicking his fingers at the woman.

"Cinnamon, what do you think of these?" Sherlock had asked as they walked around a seemingly harmless shop.

Molly's head snapped up at the curly haired man and frowned.

"What did you call me?"

"Cinnamon. Why, don't you like it?" he asked and she raised an eyebrow.

"No, it's fine… but why?" she asked and Sherlock cursed her occasionally loud voice.

He grabbed her hips and pressed his cheek against hers, placing his lips next to her ear.

"If we're supposed to be married, we should at least have pet names or whatever they're called. I'm experimenting any you should probably catch onto that." Molly's eyes glued onto Sherlocks as he moved his head from her side and rest his forehead against hers. "Ok?"

"All I can think right now is Curls MT."

Sherlock's face screwed up in confusion, a look very adorable for him. "Isn't that a font?"

Molly chuckled before running a hand through his hair. "Blame your parents for your beautiful curls. They're on my mind," she told him as she fingered the little ringlets.

"Beautiful, not here," he said a little louder, giving her a semi-pointed look and pulling away from her, slipping his hand around her waist.

Molly blushed a brighter red as she thought about that memory, the first time she was called out of London to help Sherlock as his wife, an extremely odd concept for her to wrap her head around.

"There you go," she said as she handed him the knife," bold Curls MT," she added under her breath with Sherlock retaliating with a glare, an effort for him as he was glued to this specimen under the 'scope.

A small smile slipped onto her lips at his look and he rolled his eyes, looking back down.

John did NOT miss this odd display, hell, he even HEARD Molly!

"What was that, Molly? Anything you want to share with the class?" he asked, holding back a smirk.

She blushed red again and looked away, Sherlock getting consumed with his thoughts.

They had been in a small town in Eastern Europe, posing as tourists. When they had gotten back to their hotel room, Sherlock was fuming. The criminals couldn't even do their jobs properly. People were dying and it was his fault for being unable to stop them. He was pacing the room, Molly watching from the bed.

"A-"

"Molly, not now," he barked back, his hands going to his face.

"Ooh, BOLD Curls MT, I see," she whispered and he stopped pacing to look at her, a teasing smile on her lips.

He caught her eye and slowly a smile spread across his face. Molly stood up and walked over to him, wrapping her arms around his neck while he rested his hands on her hips.

"My kitten, I just don't want more people to get hurt. It- it's just stressing me."

Molly nodded at Sherlock's bland words and kissed his cheek.

"You'll figure out what to do, you're Sherlock Holmes," she whispered and put her head on his shoulder.

He recognised this as a hug and began to hug her back.

"John, I left my phone at home, fetch it for me," he drawled out, John looking at Sherlock with mild horror.

"Are you actually serious, Sherlock?"

"Of course, John, or I wouldn't be asking. Some people, honestly."

John looked up at Molly who was busy doing paper work and sighed.

"Fine. But don't suddenly change destination before I come back."

John grumbled his way away and it was only after a few minutes that Sherlock jumped out of his seat and approached Molly.

"I can't keep this a secret," he told her and she looked up from her desk at him.

"What?"

"The pet names. John's bound to have caught on by now."

"And?"

"AND?"

"I don't see what the problem is."

"I can't very well keep calling you sugar or kitten every time I see you," he snapped, causing Molly to roll her eyes.

"There's a perfectly reasonable way to explain this, but it would require some effort and time." Sherlock looked at her puzzled and she rolled her eyes before continuing. "Coffee?"

"No thank you, I have some already," he told her before pointing at a cup sitting on the lab bench.

Molly sighed before nodding. "Huston, we have a problem."

"I don't understand."

"It's obvious, you just clearly don't have the mental capacity to understand what I'm suggesting we do here."

~oOo~

After repeating the plan a few times, Sherlock finally got exactly what Molly was getting to and he agreed, for now.

John walked into the lab, a phone in hand. When the door opened, his jaw dropped at the sight he saw. Molly and Sherlock were standing there, their lips attached. Oh.

"I-Sh-M-uh," John stumbled over his words before the door banged shut behind him, Sherlock and Molly jumping away.

"John! Wow. Uh, didn't expect you back so soon!" Sherlock fumbled, looking over at the beet red Molly.

"Yes, well, your phone was in my pocket. I found it as I was a block away from home," he replied, still baffled by what he just witnessed.

"I-I'm going to pop down to the morgue," Molly said, getting herself out of the awkward situation at hand.

Silence.

Molly had disappeared before either men had spoken again.

"What the bloody hell was that?"

"That was me kissing my girlfriend." John stared at Sherlock wide eyed. "Surly you heard the pet names. Cinnamon, kitten, Curls MT… I'm not overly fond on that one. I rather despise it…"

"H-how did this even happen?"

"What?"

"You becoming her boyfriend!" John grumbled.

"Oh. I asked her to dinner a few times, she said yes, we decided to be boyfriend/girlfriend. You've done this many times, I think you should know how it happens. Would you like me to explain sex, while we're at it?" Sherlock asked before going back to the specimen under the microscope.

John stood there, wide eyes and with a dropped jaw.

"Is this a joke? You'd tell me if this was a joke, right?"

"John?"

"What?"

"This isn't a joke. I somewhat love Molly Hooper."

A/N:

naww! Cute! Tomorrow's prompt is 'wearing onesies'!