A little flash fic inspired by mae-jones and her new tumblr cooking blog maeskitchen.
"Molly, none of these are big enough, why don't you keep anything larger than a pill bottle in your kitchen?"
The consulting pain-in-the-arse turned to glare at her and Molly continued to ignore him as she examined the bag of turmeric she'd just purchased. She hummed an off-key melody - deliberately off-key so as to further annoy Sherlock and his supposed 'perfect pitch' ears - and considered how best to distribute the spice amongst her (admittedly vast) collection of small jars.
"Molllllyyy," Sherlock whined, coming up behind her and putting his arms around her, "why don't you have any big jars? Why keep everything in such small jars? They're–"
"Impossible to organize," she said, along with him. Finally taking pity, she looked up at his hang-dog expression and smiled. "Because, dearest darling man of mine, I quite enjoy the chaos of my spice cabinet. I love not knowing what I'll find or where I'll find it. It makes cooking much more experimental, and therefore loads more fun."
She waited while his eyes unfocused and he processed what she'd just said, then smiled even wider when his expression morphed into an "Ohhhh!" of "I get it now." He didn't even have to say the words, nor did he bother; instead, he turned her in his embrace and lifted her up onto the counter for easier reach as he kissed her.
"Experimental," he mumbled against her lips as she hugged him around his waist. "Perfect. Absolutely perfect, why did it take me so long to figure you out, Molly Hooper?"
She pulled back a bit and booped his nose her finger. "Shame on you, Sherlock Holmes," she laughingly chided him. "Don't you know I'm the one mystery you'll never ever figure out?"
"True," he conceded as he nuzzled her neck. "And thank God for that."
End note: Thank you everyone who continues to read, follow and especially review my fics, you all rock!