Anniversaries

Genre: Family, Romance, Romance, Romance

Pairings: Greg and Molly

Main characters: Greg, Molly, John in a cameo

Greg listened intently to John's instructions, which had also, most considerately (and wisely), been written down.

"Remember, you've got to pay attention. Don't be getting too distracted. Timing is critical with this. If you leave it in too long you'll end up with two hard lumps. The idea is to pull them out so that they ooze when pressure is applied."

Greg nodded. "Got it. I really can't thank you enough, John. I want tonight to be special for Molly. Anniversaries come but once a year and I refuse to become one of those husbands who's always forgetting the important days."

John grinned, hoping he remembered days like this with Alex when there were very young children in the mix. Somehow, John knew that he wouldn't likely forget, with the help of his Baker Street family.

"I know chocolate lava cakes are a bit clichéd, but there's no denying they're decadent. Especially the way I make them," John said. "Set the timer and don't leave the kitchen. Snog her all you want while they bake but for God's sake do it in the kitchen so you make sure to pull them out when the timer goes off, and be sure to serve them warm."

"I can cook six ways from Sunday but baking eludes me," Greg laughed. "I'm kicking myself I forgot flowers. Thank God Mrs. Hudson offered her garden. Did the best I could but it's a bit…"

"Special, Greg. It's special, and she'll love it."

Greg grinned thoughtfully. "Yeah, hope so."

"She will. Anyway your instructions are written down on that note by the oven, in case you get distracted and forget. Good luck, Rosie has plans for Greer and the boys, so we'll have a grand night of it."

"Thanks again, John," Greg grinned.

When Molly arrived home, earlier than normal as she had planned on Greg's request, she was greeted by her husband and the delectable aroma of manicotti in the oven.

"Oh, my," she purred, as she wove her way past two cats and a pocket beagle.

"What's the occasion, my gorgeous silver fox?"

Greg smiled at her seductively, his dark brown eyes turning bedroom mode in a flash.

"Our anniversary," he said simply.

"Our… anniversary?" Molly asked, as she found her way to his arms. Wandering hands – on both their parts – and wandering lips as well, distracted her from her query for several minutes, before she finally remembered what she'd asked him.

"Darling, our anniversary isn't for another four months."

"Our wedding anniversary, yes. But every couple has more than one, unless they're extremely OCD and set every date exactly the same."

"Alright, then," Molly said, turning her attention to his neck, working her way back up around his jawline with tender kisses that sent shivers down Greg's spine, and a few other places as well.

"Our couple anniversary isn't today either, though. That was last… wee… OH..." she suddenly said, her hazel eyes widening and her smile lighting up her face.

"Yeah," Greg said, as he started working on her blouse buttons.

"THAT anniversary. So why are we celebrating that one?"

"Because it's not generally celebrated, Love. I wanted to surprise you with something completely random and off the wall. Unfortunately," he coughed softly, "it was so random I forgot to pick up proper flowers for you… so… well… I hope you like them," he said, blushing and nodding towards the table.

Molly's attention turned to the vase on their table. She recognized it as one that she and Greg had received with cut flowers from the Andersons to use as a table centerpiece for one of their Christmas Eve gatherings.

"This is… beautiful," she said, quite honestly. "Mrs. Hudson's garden?" she asked.

"Yeah," Greg admitted. "With her permission of course. I apologize for the foliage but it's the best she had and it seemed to suit…"

"It's delicate and does suit, yes. My bouquet smells like a pickle but it's beautiful, Gregory," Molly said, gently touching the tendrils of dill weed that Greg had used for greenery out of desperation.

"In fact," she said, turning back to him, "It's the most beautiful bouquet I have ever received from you, because you made it yourself and you did what you could with what you had."

"It smells like Mrs. Hudson's kitchen when she's canning," he laughed, wincing slightly.

"Maybe, but to me, it smells like true love," Molly said, turning back to him and smiling, her eyes shining.

Greg wasn't quite prepared for this reaction to the flower arrangement he'd thrown together last minute, so he absorbed her appreciation, and decided the time was right for that distraction that John had warned against.

He picked up the kitchen timer, and took it with him the few steps over to where Molly was, wrapping his free hand around her, letting it wander wherever it pleased.

"I love you, Dr. Lestrade," he breathed against her neck, as she caught her breath and a small moan escaped her throat. She gasped as his free hand found its way to where it had on this anniversary, of all anniversaries, he had for some reason, chosen to acknowledge and celebrate.

"That's MRS. Lestrade to you," she giggled softly, letting him lead her to their bedroom.

In the end, the timer did its work – twice. Dinner was perfect and so were John's dark chocolate lava cakes – though those, admittedly, only just barely escaped the oven in time.

Molly had giggled, wearing nothing but one of his shirts and a smile, as he dashed for the kitchen wearing a frantic expression and little else, muttering "BOLLOCKS, the bloody cakes…!"

"They'll be too hot to eat for at least a few minutes, won't they?" she asked mischievously.

Greg, setting down his oven mitts, turned back to her. "Oh yeah. Definitely too hot to handle," he purred, turning back to her with renewed appetite.

Though saved from overcooking, the cakes had, unfortunately, NOT managed to be served timely enough to still be warm.

Molly and Greg didn't much care though.

"We have another anniversary next week," Greg pointed out, as he and his wife lay tangled in sheets and afterglow.

"Oh?" Molly asked, lazily. "What's that?"

"It's the anniversary of Morrie catching his first mouse. Sometime in between is also International Take Your Houseplant for a Walk Day," he said, casually.

"Bollocks Gregory, you're making that up."

"No, I'm not. Honestly, it's a real day." He grinned at the ceiling as Molly began to tremor with laughter.

"We don't have any houseplants," she pointed out, still giggling.

"Well then, I suppose we'll just have to stay in," he said, leaning into her with his mouth and catching her laughter with his own.