Disclaimer: This fanfiction is not written for profit and no infringement of copyright is intended. Not beta read, so all mistakes are mine.
#TheThing
Molly Hooper keeps doing This Thing, which Sherlock finds odious, and tedious, and annoying.
She keeps doing it though she should know better, and she should certainly have more sense, and Sherlock is convinced she must have been told off about it before, and told not to do it.
But, nevertheless, every time she comes over to Baker Street for a night of take away and crap telly, she still manages to do The Thing, which Sherlock finds entirely baffling and completely annoying, and not at all welcome, no matter what John says.
You see, after a couple of glasses of wine and a full meal, Molly Hooper has taken to falling asleep on Sherlock's couch.
No, not merely on Sherlock's couch: She has taken to falling asleep on Sherlock's person.
And, seasoned man of the world that he is, Sherlock hasn't the slightest idea what to do about it.
It always starts innocuously enough: She curls up on the sofa, her little feet tucked in under her and her shoulder leaning on his. Over the course of the evening some other part of her, usually her hip or back, will also find its way into contact with Sherlock's body.(The weight and warmth of this is usually pleasant and will thus lure him into a false sense of security).
From there it's merely a hop, skip and a jump to her nodding off, usually by laying her head on Sherlock's shoulder, sometimes by leaning her entire body on him. Once, she even ended up with her feet in his lap before she fell asleep (and yes, that had originally been his idea, but he didn't think she'd take such advantage of it! He didn't think she'd end up using him for a bloody pillow!
He also didn't think he'd end up finding it so easy to warm his hands against her pale little toes as he worked through his emails, but that's neither here nor there).
Most nights she gets so comfortable- and Sherlock finds it so difficult to bring himself to wake her- that he just wraps her in a blanket, picks her up and puts her in his bed. She always smiles when he does that, and says his name in her sleep. This causes the most ridiculous... fluttering sensation in his belly. He tucks her in and lets her slumber, leaving him to suffer a long, lonely night on the couch as Molly sleeps a mere few feet away and he tries to work out what the devil has gotten into him-
He has asked John about it on more than one occasion, but the bloody git just grins at him and won't explain a word, which is typical.
Mrs. Hudson likewise grins at him, and then starts blathering on about her younger days and her first husband, which is no help at all.
So he stops asking. Sometimes he goes up to John's old room to sleep, but it's freezing, and musty, and not nearly as nice as his is (and besides, it's the oddest thing, but he finds being near Molly more pleasant than being in a bed. He finds the thought that she trusts him enough to have him nearby really rather... pleasant.)
And so he lets her slumber. Keeps his peace about it. Keeps his eye on her.
She's his friend, he tells himself, and he should probably, as the Americans say, suck it up. Take one for the team. It's not his fault if Molly Hopoer keeps doing The Thing, now is it?
Besides, if he tells her off for doing it then she might stop coming over- And then where would he be?