Author's note: This chapter contains some spoilers for Bridgerton and a love scene that I would rate on my personal scale as a hard-T.
Molly loved being behind the wheel of Martha's car. She could feel the leashed power beneath her foot and the quick response to acceleration. She wanted to drive on the motorway and see just how fast the car could go, but she wasn't sure if Sherlock would be comfortable with her being the one to drive. Well, she would ask when they were getting ready to leave for home. It wasn't a big deal, really. She just felt that driving with a low speed limit was a bit of a waste with such a luxurious sports car.
Molly paused at the end of the B&B driveway and looked at Sherlock. "So, which way?"
He smiled at her. "It's really quite easy. Remember, all you do is go to Sheep Street and head west until it changes its name to Ely Street, and The Kingfisher isn't far from there."
Molly took a hand from the wheel and smacked her forehead. "Of course. I can't believe I forgot that."
She drove to Sheep Street and turned to the west, as Sherlock had said.
To Molly's disappointment, when they arrived at their destination, they saw the place was closed. Molly pulled into a parking space just beyond the shop. "There goes that idea."
Sherlock gave her an apologetic smile. "I wasn't expecting it to be closed on Sundays. I guess I should have checked."
Molly shrugged. "How were you to know? But now what?"
She watched as Sherlock took his phone out of his pocket. "I'll just find another fish and chip shop." He squinted slightly at his phone as he did a Google search. Obviously, he had not thought he would need his reading glasses.
"This one sounds promising," he announced a minute later. "Clopton Catch. It's just five minutes from here."
"Lead on, Macduff," said Molly, saying the often misquoted line attributed to Macbeth. She had studied Macbeth in secondary school and knew the actual line was "Lay on Macduff", but it was a popular misquotation. Anyway, it was the perfect place to quote Shakespeare.
"I bet you've been longing to use that phrase, haven't you?" She heard the amusement in Sherlock's voice.
Molly giggled. "Of course, it's all about immersing ourselves in the Shakespearian experience." She glanced at Sherlock, who was looking down at his phone again.
"As usual, we have to wear masks," he said. He directed her to the shop, and she found a parking space.
Masks in place, they went inside the shop. "Do you want to get anything besides chips?" asked Sherlock.
"You can, if you like. I'm content just to have the chips," she responded.
"Just chips it is, then."
Having purchased the chips, they returned to the car and the bed-and-breakfast, where they sat downstairs at the dining table to eat, rather than in the bedroom.
"The evening stretches ahead of us," said Sherlock after they had disposed of the chip packaging. "What would you like to do, my love?"
Molly sucked on her lower lip for a moment. "We haven't done any lateral thinking puzzles."
Sherlock's eyebrow lifted. "Are you sure you don't want to save those for when we go on our little picnic?"
"We can do that as well during our picnic, but I told you already I'm not going to go up against you again in removing clothing for a wrong guess."
"But you won last time," Sherlock pointed out.
Molly rolled her eyes. "Because you let me win, as you took great delight in sharing with me after we'd made love."
He gave her a roguish grin. "Perhaps I'd do the same again."
She folded her arms. "I'm not falling for that one. You'd take great pleasure in getting me naked while you are still almost fully dressed if possible."
"Can I help it if I find you so irresistible that I happen to like seeing you naked?"
She couldn't suppress a grin. How could she complain when her husband still found her so attractive and liked to express his adoration openly? "You are such a flirt."
"Only with you, my love." He bent down to drop a tender kiss on her lips, then said, "well, let's go upstairs and have a few of these games. Then I suppose we can watch the next Bridgerton episode."
"That sounds good." Molly slipped her hand in his, and they walked upstairs to the bedroom.
Molly retrieved the lateral thinking book and made herself comfortable on the bed next to Sherlock. She began flipping through pages while Sherlock took up the television remote and went to Netflix to idly look through the menu of shows.
Molly read one puzzle and thought she could guess the answer, but when she went to the back of the book to check, it was not at all what she expected. In fact, the answer seemed rather silly, but it would be interesting to see if Sherlock could discover it.
"Right, I've got one," she announced, and Sherlock set down the remote, focussing his attention on her instead
"Go ahead."
"Okay, this one is called 'One Bad Cheque'," she said, then continued. "Sam Skipstpwn, under pressure-"
"Sam Skipstown?" interrupted Sherlock with a chuckle. "Nice name."
Molly reprimanded him with a, "Hush. I'm trying to tell the story." She continued. "Under pressure from his creditors, he wrote a cheque and handed it to one of them. The creditor accepted it, but crossly returned the next day because the cheque was not good. Sam had enough money in the account to pay the debt and had not stopped payment on the cheque. Why was the creditor unhappy?"
Molly saw the crease between Sherlock's brows as he said, "If he had the money to pay the debt, why would he have written a cheque that was not good in the first place?"
"Yes, it does seem rather silly, but that is irrelevant. You're not trying to determine why he wrote a bad cheque, but why the creditor accepted it in the first place and then found out it was not good."
Sherlock leaned back against the pillows, lacing his fingers behind his head. "I suppose the creditor did not notice that the cheque was dated incorrectly? Perhaps it was post-dated which would mean the cheque was not valid."
"Nope. That's what I figured too, before I looked up the answer," Molly responded.
"Hmm, so you are saying the cheque was written out correctly with no errors?"
Molly nodded. "Yes. I suppose the creditor made sure it was correctly filled out before he left."
"Intriguing," murmured Sherlock. "Why would a correctly filled-out cheque be unacceptable at the bank?"
Molly watched as he pondered the question, his lips slightly pursed.
Finally, he asked, "Was there an issue with the bank itself upon which the cheque was drawn?"
"Nope," said Molly, quite enjoying the fact that Sherlock didn't immediately jump to the correct conclusion as he usually did when it came to making deductions.
"And there was no issue with the signatures not matching?"
"There was not."
A look of intense concentration came upon Sherlock's face. His expression cleared at last and he said, "There can be only one logical explanation, ridiculous as it would seem."
Molly held her breath.
"Somehow Sam used a disappearing ink pen to write out the cheque, and therefore it was blank when his creditor took it to the bank."
Molly dropped the book in her lap. "How on earth did you figure that out? I honestly don't think I would ever have considered disappearing ink."
"Well, I have had a little experience with special inks, most notably on the note Eurus gave me that I didn't find until after the whole Culverton Smith case, where I used an ultraviolet light to discover the words 'Miss me?' written on the piece of paper she had given me."
Molly pursed her lips. She recalled Sherlock relating that to her a long time ago, but she would definitely never have made the connection. "Well, you're too clever for me." She picked up the book again and handed it to him. "Your turn."
Sherlock found a puzzle quickly, and she remembered looking at it, but she had felt certain she knew the answer so she had skipped it.
"This one is titled 'The Unromantic Reply'." He looked at Molly when she nodded. "Did you see the answer to this one?"
"No, I didn't, but I looked at it and thought the answer was quite obvious."
"Well, I will read it again for you anyway, and then you can tell me your answer."
"Okay."
"A man and a woman stood facing each other. The man embraced the woman passionately. 'I feel so happy and romantic,' he told her. 'I feel like throwing up,' she replied. She had felt fine before he joined her. Why was he not offended?" Sherlock looked at Molly expectantly.
She smiled confidently. "She had just told him she was pregnant, prompting his statement, and then a bout of morning sickness hit her unexpectedly."
"Brilliant deduction, my love," he said with a tender smile, and she felt a flash of triumph, followed by disappointment when he added, "but incorrect."
"But it makes perfect sense!" exclaimed Molly.
"I do not disagree. However, that is not the answer recorded in the book."
Molly pouted.
She spent a few minutes asking questions, getting progressively more frustrated. Even the clues Sherlock provided did not help.
Finally, he said, "Think about their location and what might cause nausea."
The penny dropped.
"Oh, for goodness' sake, I suppose they were on a boat and she was feeling seasick."
He grinned. "Correct!"
"Stupid answer," she grumbled, suddenly thankful they had not been playing the stripping game. She would have been well and truly naked. "I still think my answer makes more sense."
Sherlock bent close to kiss her cheek. "I think so too. Shall we try another puzzle?"
Molly looked at her watch. "Actually, I think we should FaceTime the girls before it gets too late, and then we can watch another episode of Bridgerton."
"And then I will unveil my plan for us for the rest of the evening," said Sherlock. "Would you like to guess what I have planned?"
Molly got off the bed to retrieve her iPad. "No. I'll let you surprise me. My brain is worn out from that silly puzzle."
Sherlock chuckled.
A FaceTime conversation ensued where Victoria proudly informed Sherlock and Molly that she had won a game of Snakes and Ladders against Grandma. She also related that Christina kept trying to take the pieces from the board and put them in her mouth, which she found very annoying. After a brief conversation with Sherlock's parents and a wave to Christina, Molly put her iPad away.
"Well, I'm glad things seem to be going really well without us," she commented to Sherlock, feeling a little wistful. She did enjoy being there with the girls at night and putting them to bed. It was strange to be away from them like this.
Sherlock noticed, of course. "Molly, don't get all melancholy on me. I miss the girls as well, but you planned this so that we can have some time away, just the two of us."
Molly gave herself a mental shake. "I know, and I'm having an amazing time already." She picked up the television remote and joined him on the bed again. He was lying on his side, using his elbow to prop up his head, and Molly moved so that she could feel the warmth of his body surrounding her. "Ready to watch another episode of Bridgeton?"
His arm curled around her automatically to hold her even closer. "Go ahead."
Molly found the third episode and pressed the play button.
About half way into the episode, she found herself a little shocked by the tone of a conversation between Simon and Daphne where he talked about some rather intimate things.
"I'm pretty sure that conversation was not in the book when I read it a few years ago. I don't think it was necessary either," she said, feeling embarrassed to even listen to the conversation exchange after pausing the playback.
"I highly doubt that such conversations would have been held in polite society back in that time," agreed Sherlock. "Topics of a sexual nature were probably taboo, but modern writers like to use shock value because sex sells."
Molly sighed. "I guess you're right, but it doesn't make me feel any more comfortable in watching it." She resumed the playback.
A little while later, she rather regretted her actions when a scene occurred that made her feel uncomfortable. This time, it was Sherlock who made a comment first.
"This show is really pushing the limits of what is appropriate to display, but it is Netflix, so I suppose there is a much lower bar when it comes to decisions on what is and is not appropriate for viewers."
Molly sighed again. "I was really looking forward to watching this series, because you know how I love historical romance, but there are certain things I think should not be shown when it comes to sexual behaviour."
Sherlock dipped his head to kiss her cheek. "I agree completely, but it is a sign of our culture that the boundaries are being pushed, and it is the work of Satan to bring normalcy to that which is not normal, to devalue sex to the point where it is something every couple should indulge in from almost the moment they start dating."
"You know," Molly said, turning to face Sherlock, "I think I've lost interest in this show for now."
Sherlock's hand moved from where it had been resting at her waist to caress her cheek. "In that case, let's turn this off and fill ourselves with the things of God instead, by doing our Bible reading. After that, I will unveil my surprise plans."
Molly liked the sound of that. "Sounds good to me."
Following their reading for the day, Molly watched as Sherlock walked over to the larger suitcase. She heard the sound of a zip being opened, but his back was to her, and she could not see what he was doing.
He walked to the bathroom, and she heard the taps being turned on a few moments later. That was when she guessed what his plan was. They had not shared a bubble bath since Valentine's Day, and she remembered how much they had enjoyed the large bathtub here four years ago. She suspected that Sherlock had taken something out of the suitcase to use for a bubble bath.
When he returned to the bedroom, Molly smiled at him. "I guess your surprise is a bubble bath we can share?"
His lips quirked. "Rather difficult to keep the secret once I turned on the taps," he said. "We haven't enjoyed one of these since the night of Valentine's Day. I think it is past time, don't you?" He held out his hand to her, and she took it.
"I concur completely."
He looked down at her and said in a deep voice that still thrilled her, "Would you like to select some lingerie for after the bath?"
She cooked her head and gave him a sultry smile. "I think I could manage that."
There would be no way to hide what she chose, so Molly went to her small suitcase, which still contained the lingerie she had brought. She withdrew the plunging neckline, halter neck, black teddy and took it to the bathroom where Sherlock was observing the water as it continued to fill the tub.
She held out the teddy. "What do you think?"
He swooped in for a sensual kiss. "I will enjoy seeing you in it as well as out of it." Then he added, "Speaking of out of it, would you like me to help you remove your dress?"
"Be my guest." Molly set the teddy onto the floor away from the tub and turned so Sherlock could unzip her dress, and she stepped out of it, naked aside from her knickers. Of course, Sherlock never wasted an opportunity to caress her breasts from behind, and he did so briefly before she turned her attention to removing his shirt, followed by his trousers.
The remainder of their clothes removed, Sherlock stepped into the tub first and then helped Molly into it.
Molly saw the vanilla and patchouli body wash he'd used for the bubbles, and remembered the same scent being used four years earlier. It was a scent she rarely used, preferring her jasmine vanilla body wash, but this was the scent that also had a massage oil. Was Sherlock planning to offer her a massage afterwards? she wondered, but didn't bother to ask.
Instead, she settled herself in front of him as she always did in the tub, nestled between his long legs. "Hair first, as usual?" she asked.
"Yes, but this time, I will wash your hair, you can wash mine, and then we can move on to the enjoyment of washing one another's bodies," Sherlock said, reaching for a flannel at the side of the tub, as well as the complimentary shampoo.
Hair washing accomplished, Molly enjoyed Sherlock's usual diligence in washing every part of her body. As always, he paid particular attention to certain parts of her anatomy, kneading and caressing. Even when he had thoroughly washed her body, he seemed in no hurry to turn over the flannel. He placed kisses to her neck, stroked his hands along her arms, squeezed her breasts gently.
Finally, she said, twisting her head around to look at him, "Sherlock, I still have to wash your body, remember?"
He huffed. "Next time, you can wash my body first. Then you won't be able to prevent me from touching your body as long as I wish."
Molly giggled and held her hand up for the flannel. "None of that body wash for me," he warned, indicating the vanilla and patchouli he'd used on her. "Just soap, please."
Molly rose to take up the bar of soap. "Using the soap will make the bubbles disappear, so it's just as well you washed my body first."
She proceeded to cleanse Sherlock's body. Of course, she would not allow him to be the only one to enjoy the sensation of touch. She loved the feel of his chest beneath her fingers, and did her share of caressing other areas that generated the usual response from him. It was very satisfying.
The bubbles, as Molly had warned, dissipated, and Molly was quite content to view her husband's beautiful male form, without bubbles to obscure it.
Finally, though, she could feel the water getting cold, and as one, they stood to get out of the bath.
Sherlock assisted Molly out of the tub and left the bathroom first, a towel wrapped around his waist.
Molly dried her body carefully and put on the teddy, then emerged from the bathroom to find Sherlock sitting on the bed, holding the bottle of vanilla and patchouli massage oil, as she had deduced. What she had not expected was to find he had replaced the towel with the thong he had worn on their honeymoon, a cheeky gift from Martha which Molly had received on her hen night.
She sucked in her breath at the sight of him sitting on the bed casually, massage oil in hand. Had they really been married almost 4 years? Seeing him that way still made her breath hitch and her heart pound at the thrill of knowing they belonged together.
For his part, Sherlock raked an appreciative gaze over Molly before patting the bed with his free hand. "Onto your tummy, love."
Molly obediently did as he requested, thinking it was good that the teddy halter neck offered a bare back and shoulders for Sherlock to massage with the oil.
And massage her he did, quite expertly as always.
Molly moaned with pleasure as he pressed his thumbs into those areas she didn't even know held tension around her shoulder blades.
It must have been at least twenty minutes before he stopped and removed his body from his straddling position. She felt completely relaxed, keeping her eyes closed.
She heard the sound of the water running in the bathroom. Sherlock was obviously washing the massage oil off his hands.
The next thing she knew, Sherlock's body was beside hers, his lips to her ear as he asked, "Are you going to sleep on me now?"
She opened her eyes and moved her body so she was facing him. "Would you like a massage as well?"
"Nope." He popped his p. He bent forward and his mouth took possession of hers. His hands, which had taken such care with her back, now caressed her curves as they kissed. She noted that he was no longer wearing the thong as her hand slid to his hip.
She pulled back slightly and pouted. "You didn't let me take off the thong."
"I removed it when I went to wash my hands from the massage oil. It was getting a little...restrictive." He moved his body sensuously against hers. Yes, she supposed, it would have become uncomfortable.
"Point taken." Her hand moved to squeeze his bum playfully.
In retaliation, he moved his own hand to slide inside her teddy and squeeze a breast.
They spent some time teasing and titillating one another, allowing the passion to slowly build between them until they were both panting with need and eager to join in the final consummation.
With the teddy finally removed, bare flesh met bare flesh as Sherlock covered her body with his own and they enjoyed the usual mutually satisfying unity of their bodies that had been made for one another.
As the heat of passion finally cooled afterwards, Molly pulled Sherlock's arm to cover her as she tucked herself into his body. It had been a lovely day, and there were still more days to come. She was very glad she had made the plans to come here again.
"Goodnight, Sherlock. I love you," she whispered.
She felt his breath tickle her ear as he lifted his head to kiss the tip of it, before he too whispered, "Good night, Molly. Love you too."
With a smile of deep contentment at both Sherlock's words and his body against hers, Molly drifted off into peaceful slumber.
Author's note: There are references in this chapter to events from A Honeymoon Journey. Did you like the lateral thinking puzzles? They came from one of my books.
FYI, The Kingfisher is closed on Sundays, as I discovered, so I had to find an alternate place for Sherlock and Molly to get their fish and chips. I don't know whether many people even care about authenticity, but it's important to me to make sure my characters are as close to being real as I can make them. Over the years, I've come to love my characters as if they are true friends to me. I guess any serious writer connects to their characters that way when they write years worth of material.
I wrote this in August of last year, and I hope people are still invested in these characters. I will always love them, but I feel my writing journey for them is drawing slowly to a close as I concentrate on other things in my life, including other writing projects. But do not worry, this story is complete. It is a matter of finding time to publish it. I hope that people who like my writing will consider following me if and when I jump into the world of non-fiction and original fiction.
Your reviews are always appreciated.
