This drabble is based on a tumblr prompt: 25 Days of Fic: Pie
Disclaimer: I still don't own Sherlock but i do have some pie.
Molly was baking. It was evening, and they were at his flat. When she'd mentioned she was tied up that evening because she had to do some cooking for her office Christmas party, he had not been pleased. He'd been working on a case, and had only just finished up that morning. Childish or not, he wanted to be the focus of her attention. Sherlock had learned however that telling Molly this was not a good idea. The first time he'd tried it, she'd banished him from the lab for a week. But what was he to do? He didn't want to spend the night without her. Suddenly inspiration struck.
When she'd told him about her plans, Molly had expected a fit. Instead, he asked to her to make a list of what she needed, and he'd get everything together and bring it to his place. She'd been shocked of course. Sherlock didn't have milk in his fridge unless she brought it over, and now here he was offering to get all her baking supplies and bring them round. She was flustered for a moment, but then recovered and started making his list. "He'd even tidied up," she took note after entering. Well, for him that meant moving all the experiments off the counters and clearing a spot on the table, but still. She appreciated the sentiment behind it. Soon she was lost in her own world, absorbed by her task.
Sherlock watched her from his chair, more than content with the current situation. He congratulated himself for his quick thinking. Now he was simply counting down the minutes until her task was complete, and then she was all his. At that particular moment, she was bent over the table, putting the finishing touches on her pies. His mind quickly wondered to more amorous activities that could be done on the table.
Molly knew he was watching her. Having all that brilliance focused on her made her heady; and completely turned on. Sherlock had quite the appetite, for her as well as her baking. She'd made an extra pie especially for him, to say thank you for not being a prat. When the pies were ready, she put them in the oven and set the timer for 45 minutes. Plenty of time to thank her consulting detective in a entirely different way. She tidied up her mess, and then made her way to where Sherlock was lounging in his chair.
"Thank you for doing this. I was worried you'd be upset about the whole party obligation thing. I know we usually get together when you're done with a case-"
"It's no problem Molly," he interrupted. "I'm simply happy to have you here." He paused a minute before continuing. "I like having you here. It feels…good."
Molly smiled. He was constantly surprising her. He told her in the beginning not to expect much in the way poetic musings or flowery words. And yet, as they'd gotten to know each other, and grown closer to one another, he'd started to say these kinds of things. He may not see himself as sentimental man, but Molly did.
"Well, that's about it for now," Molly said as she approached. She stopped in front of him, placing her hands on his shoulders and bringing her right knee up and placing it by his hip. "We've got almost an hour before they need to come out." She brought her other knee up and placed it on his other side. Sherlock's hands came up to rest on her hips as she lowered herself onto his lap. "What should we do until then?"
With a smirk he replied, "I can think of a few things."
authors note: sorry for the delay; the next one's on its way! that was an accidental rhyme.
