After Shift
Genre: Family, Romance
Pairings: Greg and Molly
Main characters: Greg, Molly
Greg always looked forward to coming home after a shift.
Some days he was relieved for the chaos of his children running around, keyed up from their day and excited for dinner, and overjoyed it seemed, to see their dad – often for the first time since they'd been tucked in by him the night before. There were times when that chaos was a balm to his emotions and his spirit when a day had gone sideways, or had at the very least attempted to.
Other days, exhausted but satisfied from a hard day of successfully managing to keep a case on track – maybe even concluding it - he nonetheless was made happier still by the sights and sounds of his family. His children always seemed to know what sort of day their dad had had. The boys knew if they should play calmly on their own, or goad him into a bit of roughhousing, or even just pick up a book and curl up with him for quiet time.
Greer always knew as well. No matter what sort of day he'd had, Greer always greeted him with enthusiasm, running towards him with her three year old arms stretched up towards him, wanting him to pick her up. He would gratefully do so, sweeping her up into his arms, and the certified daddy's girl would get in her cuddles.
One way or another, his children made a bad day bearable and a good day absolutely marvelous.
Once he'd made his way through the trio of small Lestrades, he'd find Molly – either preparing a meal she'd just made, dishing out takeaway, or warming up something he'd made ahead the night before. Without fail, she would drop what she was doing and greet her husband with an embrace – soft caresses, murmurings heard even over the din in the livingroom, kisses that had been made to wait all day and wouldn't be held back any longer.
This day, however, he was mildly surprised to find himself through the door at 221C and be met by nothing more than a soft music playing, and the sounds of a solitary being in the flat, busy over in the kitchen. The lighting was set to dim, just bright enough to navigate the room without tripping over furniture or stepping on the cat.
His natural curiosity – such an essential asset for a copper – was held back only long enough for him to relieve himself of his shoes and both jackets, putting them in their place in the closet. Softly, he padded his way into the kitchen, finding their dining table set out with candles, their fancy wine glasses - purchased for their wedding day and still used on occasion, and a bottle of his favourite red, open and breathing.
"Hey, you," he said, smiling at Molly. She looked up from the counter and returned the smile. Looking back down only long enough to finish what she'd been doing, she picked up a towel and wiped her hands clean and dry.
"Hey, yourself, you," she said as she approached him the way she always did, with that look of, "everyone else be damned, in this moment you are mine", and he opened his arms to her, their hello kiss seeming to be a bit more leisurely this evening, a bit more carefully considered, a bit more deliberately executed.
After what seemed an hour – in reality probably a solid and quality two minutes – he found his breath long enough to ask where everyone was.
"The boys are with John," she said, as her mouth sought his again. In between kisses, she managed to reveal, "Greer is with Sherlock and Sally."
"Mmmm," he acknowleged. "How long?" he asked as he shifted his face, mumbling into her neck.
"Sleepovers" Molly managed just as her breath caught.
"Ah, so we have ourselves some grown-up time then," he smiled into her hair. She shivered as his warm breath whispered against her skin.
"All night, yes," Molly giggled. "But aren't you hungry, darling?" she said, finally breaking away. She looked up into his shining eyes as he grinned at her.
"Famished," he purred, as his hands wandered and caressed. "Absolutely bloody famished."
Molly smiled, almost bashfully. "I'm talking about dinner," she laughed softly, "because I promise you, Gregory Joseph Lestrade, that you are going to need every scrap of energy you can manage tonight. A good meal will only do you favours."
"Well… SOME of my favours," he said, grinning at her. "So love," he said, feigning resignation, but his belly beginning to rumble in grateful anticipation at the aroma of the meal that awaited them, "what's for dinner then, since you insist we indulge in a real bit of food first?"
Smiling brightly at him, she led him to the table before returning to the counters to retrieve their repast.