A/N- By popular request here is the follow up chapter.
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Chapter Two
With a roar of surprise, Sherlock grabbed his backside and whirled about. "What the hell? Molly, what are you doing?"
Molly stood frozen; the still vibrating crop fell to the floor. She tried to speak, to say something, but for the life of her she could think of nothing.
Sherlock's eyes narrowed. He stalked up to her, grabbed her arms and pinned them to her sides. He stared down.
"You did that on purpose!"
Molly opened her mouth, but only a whimper came out.
"Explain yourself!" he demanded.
"I, er, um . . ." tears began to well in her eyes as she hysterically tried to think. "It was a mistake." She whispered. "I misunderstood what you said."
Sherlock frowned. "What did you think I said?" When you didn't answer my text about bringing biohazard boxes to the flat, I came here to hurry you along. I said you were taking too long and asked if you were able to get away." What's so hard to understand?"
"Oh." Molly said faintly. "I'm so sorry. The boxes are in the corner. I'll get them." A red-faced Molly rushed away.
Sherlock scooped up the crop with a smirk. His experiment of confusing syntax was turning out rather well, and it seems as if Molly was more adventurous than he first thought. Quite brilliant!
