Day 1 – There's only one bed!? (Heck yes we are talking about bed sharing!)
#Sherlollyweek2020
The Teddy Bear
She hadn't expected to share a bed with Sherlock.
Obviously, when she'd agreed to accompany him on a case out in the middle of nowhere and he'd told her to arrange several days off from the hospital, she might have thought "What if there was a mix-up at the hotel and, oh no, there's only one room?"
She'd enjoyed her fair share of rom-coms and romance novels over the years, after all.
But Molly didn't actually think it would happen.
Yet here she was.
He'd stayed awake for nearly three days as they'd sifted through evidence, spoke to witnesses, and searched for clues. She'd been forced to catch a few hours of sleep whenever and wherever she could, but Sherlock had pressed on. Eventually, once the case was over and the victim had been located and returned to her family, exhaustion had set in and Sherlock had reluctantly admitted he couldn't finish the drive back to London without stopping for the night.
They'd stopped at the first hotel they'd come across. A small, locally owned place with half-a-dozen rooms and a faded "Vacancy" sign in the office window. Surprisingly, there had been several cars in the lot, but that had been explained when the manager asked if they were in town for the Kingston wedding like the rest of the hotel guests. They'd been lucky to rent the last available room, regardless of how many beds it contained.
Her wide-eyed reflection stared back at her in the small bathroom mirror as she finished blow-drying her hair while Sherlock did whatever he did to get ready for bed in the other room. Who knew how long she'd spent in the shower, trying to work up the nerve to go out there and crawl into bed with him?
She told herself that it wasn't anything new, not really. Molly had lost track of how many times she'd woken up to find Sherlock stretched out on top of her covers, fingers steepled under his chin, deep in thought.
Although each of those had been before they'd learned about his sister and their entire relationship had shifted to something undefined. Not quite friends, not quite lovers, something in between.
There was nothing else to do but turn off the hair dryer and go out there. She took a deep breath, squared her shoulders, and stepped into the bedroom.
The light of the bed side lamp illuminated Sherlock's blanket covered form sprawled across the bed. He was on his stomach with his cheek pressed deep into the pillow. His mouth was open slightly, and as she moved closer to the bed, she could hear him making soft chuffing noises.
She tried to ease into the space he'd left; but even as small as she was, there wasn't enough room for her.
"Sherlock," Molly whispered, trying not to startle him.
He didn't move. Not even a hitch in the rhythm of his breathing.
"Hey," Molly tried again, a little louder.
He remained dead to the world.
She nudged his arm several times. "Sherlock."
One gorgeous blue eye peeked over the pillow and took a few seconds to focus on her face. Sherlock's lips twisted upward slightly and he sighed her name.
"Budge over."
His eye closed again, but he did scoot over just enough for her to slide under the covers.
She'd barely had a chance to settle down and before Sherlock spread out again, throwing his arm across her waist.
The warmth of his body pressed against her side was comforting. Molly had to admit, she liked being cuddled like Sherlock's own, personal teddy bear.
Until the snoring started.