"So," John began whilst Sherlock got coffee for Molly and himself in the canteen.
"Yes?" he asked, wondering what inane question he was about to be asked.
"It's Valentine's Day," John told him.
"And? Your point?" Sherlock huffed in annoyance.
"Don't you have anything planned for you and Molly? I'm taking Mary to see her favourite play," he continued.
"Unlike most of the population, Molly and I don't 'do' Valentine's Day. Yes, let's celebrate the day a man was martyred, or better yet, the St. Valentine's Day Massacre. Very romantic," Sherlock said with his usual snark.
"And how do you know that Molly doesn't like to celebrate it?" John just wouldn't let this go. Well, he asked for it.
"We both are firm believers that you should show appreciation and affection for your beloved every day; not just on one day of the year. The holiday itself is there for card and candy sales to go up, nothing more," Sherlock rambled on.
"You know, Sherlock, you may just be better at relationships than you assumed you'd be," John told him. "I mean, you're getting Molly's coffee for her. That's not something you once ever thought of doing."
"Mm, not true," Sherlock remarked. "I've thought about it on multiple occasions before Sherrinford…hell, before the fall. But I didn't want to risk showing any sign of sentiment."
"The way you think gives me a headache," John complained as they reached the lab.
"There you are!" Molly greeted her fiancé. "Look at these findings! I think you may have a breakthrough on your hands."
"Brilliant!" he exclaimed, handing Molly her coffee before looking for himself through the microscope. "Thank you for your help, darling."
"My pleasure," she smiled. "I need to finish up some paperwork, but I'll be off the clock in a couple of hours. Still up for our murder mystery marathon tonight?"
"I look forward to it," Sherlock flashed her that lopsided smile she loved so much. John shook his head, realizing he should've known that's how his two friends would spend Valentine's Day.
Molly was standing in the kitchen using the microwave she kept from her flat to be used only for food. She was already in her grey and pink plaid pajama set, popping her popcorn before they started their night together. Sherlock came up behind her, clad in his tartan pajama pants and nothing else, leaving his chest bare. Molly turned around in his arms, rising up on her toes and pressing a soft kiss to his lips, her fingers tracing the planes of his chest and down his sides. They quietly stood there in the kitchen, snogging like they needed each other more than oxygen. The beep of the microwave interrupted the moment, but before she grabbed the bag of popcorn, Molly took out a decorative tin from the cabinet and handed it to Sherlock. The black ribbon tied around it was black with little white skulls on it.
"Are you poisoning me?" he joked.
"Yes, Happy Valentine's Day," she laughed. Intrigued, Sherlock untied the ribbon and opened the lid to find the tin was full of ginger nuts.
"The only thing sweeter than these biscuits is you, Molly Hooper," he told her. "Thank you."
"You are. Most. Welcome," she said in between playful kisses. In one move, Sherlock scooped her up in his arms and carried her to the sofa, plopping her down just so she'd bounce a little on the cushions. Her laughter was infectious and he couldn't help but laugh with her. He went back for his tin of ginger nuts and joined her, the first movie already set up on the telly. It was one of Molly's favourites and she wondered if Sherlock would ever solve it. Murder by Death was a classic comical murder mystery that she had enjoyed watching with her mother whilst growing up.
They laughed together at the parodies of famous fictional detectives gathered at the dinner party. Surprisingly, Sherlock was having trouble figuring out the culprit. Of course, it wasn't the easiest one to figure out and it was more for comedy than anything else. At one point during the movie, they had become momentarily distracted with each other, unable to keep their hands and lips to themselves. Molly's lips trailing over his skin—from his neck, down his chest—was a most welcome distraction.
"Completely illogical," he scoffed when the so-called culprit was revealed. "This must be where Anderson got his theory from."
"Really? I don't recall seeing any dashing men snogging the breath out of their favourite pathologist," she smirked cheekily.
"Then I must remedy that immediately," he spoke in a sultry tone. She welcomed his affections, tracing her tongue along his lips, making him moan and opening up to her. Molly sat absolutely still when he pressed the most gentle kisses to her forehead, trailing down her temple and cheek before nuzzling his nose against hers. Her hand was lifted by his own and her fingers were brought to his lips, leaving a lovely tingling sensation through her. He kissed her palm and lingered at her wrist, feeling her pulse point. And then his arms were embracing her in a warm hug, his breath shaky.
"Hey, are you alright, love?" she asked.
"I'm better than I've ever been," he answered honestly. What he didn't voice was just how thankful he was that she chose him to give her heart to; that he was the one she wanted for worse or for better. As a deeply emotional man, it could be overwhelming at times, but Molly was also a deeply emotional woman, so he knew she understood. He felt her dainty fingers running up and down his back lightly, calming him.
"I know how you're feeling, Sherlock," she whispered. "Love consumes us, but it's so wonderful."
"It is," he agreed. Whenever he felt like he going to burst from the inside out just from the strength of his emotions he felt toward Molly, she was there to soothe him. He hated feeling like he had no control but he also loved letting go of that control when he made love to her, knowing and trusting that she would ground him if it got to be too much. Sometimes, they'd both let go and allow the whirlwind of their passion to take over. Those were the times they'd both wake up aching, but knowing it had been worth it. The emotional tension had them both coiled up, needing a release.
"Bedroom?" she asked softly.
"Yes," he answered in a breath, ready to shower her with his love, the rest of their murder mystery marathon forgotten.
Author's Note: Sherlock's view of Valentine's Day is my view of the holiday. And Murder by Death is one of my fave movies that I grew up watching with my mom. I didn't reveal any spoilers because if y'all haven't seen it, I highly recommend it.