Requested by: mariott
Rachel :)
Chapter 14: Cherrystick
He was fighting with John.
How was he meant to know he shouldn't drink directly from the milk carton? Or that he'd actually been told not to do so many times? It wasn't his fault! And so, as an act of rebellion, he took Molly with him to the next crime scene, not that the doctor minded much considering the long shifts he was currently pulling down at the clinic, but still.
Sherlock liked to think that he'd won.
"I still don't understand what we're doing here" the pathologist admitted, struggling to keep up the quick-pace the detective set, taking the stairs two at a time.
"It's a stakeout" He replied, rolling his eyes as he knelt down to pick the lock on the roof door, "I told you we need to wait for the man to leave before following him. We can't just burst in there with guns blazing!"
"Well maybe if you actually had a gun..." She mumbled, panting as she reached the top step, and ignoring the dark look he shot her way in return.
"And why couldn't you have taken John with you?"
"Because, Molly, we're fighting!" He snapped, finally standing up and turning the door knob, smirking when it opened with a single push.
"So why pick me, then? Why not Lestrade or... I don't know! You have to know more people than just John and the police!"
"I do" He replied simply, stepping out into the cool night air, "But none that I consider my friends".
Molly paused, feeling her heart tighten painfully in her chest at the admission, before quickly jogging after him as the billowing coat disappeared around the side of the door.
When she finally did find him on the dark roof, she huffed annoyed, and collapsed down next to him.
"So, what, we just sit and wait?"
"Essentially, yes" He replied, struggling with the zips on the backpack she'd failed to notice him carrying.
"Essentially?" Molly questioned, reaching across to take it from him and open it herself, "Why essentially?"
Sherlock frowned, the dim streetlights below highlighting the subsequent wrinkles that formed on his forehead, "Well... I understand that it's socially unacceptable not to... converse... with company".
She blinked, "... You want to talk?"
He shrugged, ducking his head as he pulled out various cartons from within the bag, "We're going to be here for a while... Do you wish to talk?"
She couldn't help but smile at his awkward attempt of avoiding her question, "We can talk if you want to, Sherlock".
"Your words, not mine".
"Alright then. What do you want to talk about?"
"You're the one who wanted to talk, not me, so you should-"
She sighed, cutting off his rambling speech, "Just... how about you start with telling me what all these cartons are for?"
Sherlock blinked and glanced down at the dozen or so containers he'd automatically pulled out of the backpack, "Oh... well... it's dinner, obviously".
"... Dinner?"
He nodded, and she raised an eyebrow at him, becoming more and more suspicious by the second, "And what, pray tell, are we having for dinner? Ignoring the fact, of course, that you struggle to remember what food actually is, let alone consume it willingly".
He shifted on the uncomfortable tarmacked roof, "I just... I thought you might be hungry. You usually have finished eating by now, so..."
"Sherlock, what's in the containers?"
He glanced over at her, the deep flush visible even under such a dim light, "... Everything".
"Everything?"
"That I thought you like".
Molly stared at him.
He avoided her gaze.
"... Okay then" She eventually said, trying not to laugh at the absurdity of the situation, "What's in carton number one?"
He held it up for her to see, and she blinked in surprise.
"Cherries?!"
"Do you... not like cherries?"
"I love cherries!" She exclaimed, happily pulling off the plastic lid, "How did you know?"
"I... may have seen you eating them occasionally".
She levelled him with a dry look, but didn't press the matter any further.
"So, come on, who's this guy that we're tracking, anyway?" Molly asked a few minuets later, and Sherlock gestured at the building directly across from them, "A suspected drug dealer. A suspected large drug dealer. Word has it that he's making a sale in that warehouse as we speak, and Lestrade wanted me to check it out to make sure".
"And then... what? Call in backup?" She questioned, sucking on a cherry pit, and he nodded, "Exactly. I said I'd text him as soon as this guy leaves... A rather dull case, I must admit, but John threatened to shoot me if I didn't accept. Apparently, I'm not very good company when I'm bored".
"You don't say" She remarked, smirking, and he turned to her, an angry retort on the tongue before-
Molly pulled a perfectly made knot out of her mouth.
Sherlock stared, fascinated.
She frowned.
"Hey, you alright?"
He slowly reached forwards and took the cherry stem from her hands, "... Did you do this?"
"Uh... yea?"
"... How?!"
Molly reeled back from the sheer intensity of his gaze and floundered for words.
"I... I, ah... I did it... with my... my mouth?"
Sherlock's gaze snapped back to the knot, "... Do it again".
"What?"
"Do it again!"
She slowly reached forwards and picked up another cherry, beyond confused, and placed it in her mouth.
Half a minute later, she pulled back out the stem, only for it to once more be tied in a perfect knot.
He lunged forwards, grabbing it and holding it up to inspect under a better light.
"What is this? How'd you do this?"
She shrugged sheepishly, "I can tie a knot into a cherrystick with my tongue".
Sherlock frowned, turning to her, "But how?!"
"I don't know, I guess... I've always been able to do it? I don't really think about it" She admitted, before suddenly reaching down and handing him a cherry, "Try it".
It was 13 minutes and 7 cherries later before he gave up, and he angrily spat out the straight stem and tossed it over the edge of the roof.
"How?!"
Molly couldn't help but laugh at his furious expression, and her laughter only increased when his glare turned to a pout at her ridicule.
"It's okay, Sherlock, it's not exactly an easy thing to do".
"So how do you do it?"
She decided to let the insult slide.
"Here, come on, let me show you" the pathologist said instead, handing him another cherry while she caught another one in her mouth, "You just have to eat the fruit part, obviously, and spit out the seed, and then... press the stem to the roof of your mouth, bite down until both ends cross over each other, and then push one end through the other... there!"
She proudly pulled the knotted stem from her mouth, while Sherlock stared on in equal parts confusion and awe, before glancing down at his own stem dubiously.
"Go on" She encouraged, "As you said, we'll be here a while anyway".
He reluctantly tried, and failed, once more.
Molly frowned, "Oh... well, maybe it'll just take a lot of practice".
"But I want to be able to do it now!" He whined, causing her to laugh once more, and he couldn't help but smile, eyes crinkling at the edges.
"Well there's no other way I can teach you" She replied, grinning, and his breath hitched even as he leant closer, "Isn't there?"
She swallowed thickly, suddenly nervously, "Well... I mean... I could always... show you with-"
"Yes?"
Her eyes searched his face as he came impossibly close.
"... with my tongue".
Sherlock grinned, slow and assured, warm breath ghosting over her face, "I think... that's the best idea you've had all evening".
Molly's eyes fluttered close as he finally sealed the distance between them, pulling him even closer with hands running through his hair, and she grinned into the kiss.
He tasted like cherries.
They were definitely her new favourite fruit.