A/N: Here it is, my final entry into the Valentine's Day Bingo! fic challenge. Soooo late, but I'm proud I was able to finish. Now on to write the rest of my extremely overdue Sherlolly Appreciation Week fics. Wish me luck!
Sherlock glares at Molly in utter outrage. "That's, that's cheating!" he sputters as she, far too gleefully, scoops up the pile of Monopoly money from the center of the board.
"House rules," she reminds him sweetly. "You agreed we'd play by my house rules, and my house rules include putting all fees, fines and taxes into the free parking kitty. And, hm, whose little thimble is sitting on free parking? Why, it's mine, I do believe!"
"You're mocking me," he sulks, flopping back against his chair. They're sitting on the floor of 221B. There's a roaring fire, glasses of very expensive wine for each of them (which he'd stolen from Mycroft's Belgravian mansion only just this morning but he's not about to tell Molly that)...and somehow she'd talked him into playing this ridiculous board game instead of doing the other, far more interesting things he'd had planned.
No, it's not the Valentine's Day (evening) he planned, but he's never been able to say no to Molly, especially not when she gives him the big, dark eyes and toys with his shirt buttons. Very much like she's doing right now, reaching across the small space separating them to do so.
"My house rules are better," he pouts, refusing to give in just yet. "None of this free space nonsense. Timers," he adds, tapping his phone. "It's a far more challenging game when you're forced to make all your decisions in a shorter period of ti - mmpfh!"
He's silenced in the most delicious way possible, by the press of Molly's lips against his. She crawls across the board, scattering houses, hotels, Monopoly money and Chance cards every which way and effectively forfeiting her considerable lead and oh my but he does not care the least tiniest little bit.
"Happy Valentine's Day," Molly mumbles against his lips as she squirms (in the most delightful manner) into his lap.
"Happy Valentine's Day," he responds, wrapping his arms around her and hauling her as close as he possibly can.
(Later he'll quizz her as to her reasons for delaying their intimate activities; she'll admit that it was because she was curious to see how long it would take before he broke down and used his manly wiles to distract her, only she'd been the first one to break and, well, she'll promise she probably won't try that again and that 'probably' causes him to tickle her mercilessly which leads to other, far more interesting activities involving each other's 'free spaces' which are far superior to any found on a game board.)