Songs Used (from my own playlist): Galway Girl by Ed Sheeran, Believe by Yellowcard and Fall Into Place by Apartment.
Molly had her happy mood playlist blasted at full volume. She was wearing a long thin cotton t-shirt that stopped mid-thigh and a pair of polka dotted fuzzy socks. She was finishing up the dishes when the sound of the door closing caused her to jump. Sherlock Holmes had let himself in, again, probably to use her flat as his personal bolt hole once more. He slipped off his Belstaff, scarf and suit jacket followed by his shoes.
She only turned her attention back to the dishes. He didn't speak a work to her, probably wondering if she was still upset with him. She wasn't but she also did not want to be the first to speak. Molly began moving around her kitchen to the music as she put the dishes away. Sherlock watched her with adoration. He pulled his dress shirt's sleeves up to his elbows and held a hand out to her.
"Molly?" he asked. "Care to dance?" She smiled, thankful he spoke first and that she was getting to dance with him. She took his hand and he laced their fingers together, pulling her closer. They danced together in their socks to the upbeat tune that played from Molly's computer.
'She played the fiddle in an Irish band, but she fell in love with an English man. Kissed her on the neck and then I took her by the hand said, "Baby, I just want to dance."'
"You're light on your feet," Molly smiled.
"You're not so bad yourself," Sherlock smiled back. After a beat, he spoke again. "I take it you're no longer upset with me?"
"No, I'm not. It was a stupid row. I'm sorry," Molly told him.
"No, I'm sorry, Molly. It was an awful thing to say," Sherlock told her. The music switched over to Yellowcard's Believe. A bit out of his element with how exactly to move to this song, Molly noticed his discomfort and took the lead. He was more of a classically trained dancer than anything.
"You're too stiff. You need to loosen up a bit," Molly informed him. "Here, let me show you." She danced on her own for a moment, eliciting a chuckle from Sherlock. "Something funny?"
"It's just…so silly," Sherlock remarked.
"That's the whole point," Molly laughed. "Come on, loosen it up. Here, how about this?" She undid the first two buttons of his dress shirt. They looked like they would pop right off if he stretched the shirt wide enough.
"How does that help?" Sherlock asked.
"It doesn't, really," Molly winked. "Helps me." The song switched over during their banter.
'Du du du du du du dudu du dudu So penniless for a dream, I hope I get by today. I want to get to the truth and learn how to gray.'
"What is this?" Sherlock asked.
"Fall Into Place," Molly replied. "Now, come on dance with me. It doesn't matter if you're awful at it, that's the point." And so they danced through the kitchen and the sitting room. Sherlock finally stopped being so uptight over the matter and actually let himself go. It was some of the most fun he had.
"You're my escape," Sherlock spoke breathlessly.
"What?" Molly asked.
"I can always be myself with you. I mean, well, I am just me when I'm with you. Not Sherlock Holmes the Consulting Detective, but Sherlock Holmes who's real first name is William," he explained. He spun her around and brought her in close. "You're home to me."
"Oh, Sherlock," Molly breathed. Then she jumped up and wrapped her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist to snog him thoroughly. He was so taken aback at first but quickly reciprocated, holding her and kissing her back. They kissed until they collapsed together on the sofa due to Sherlock stumbling over the area rug. The two of them laughed together until their stomachs hurt. This was some of the most fun Molly had too.