Currently working on a couple of new chapters. Will follow as soon as I can guys. Enjoy.
Arriving promptly at 7pm, Molly couldn't quite believe that she'd gone through with her saucy plan. Letting herself into the building, but knocking on 221B's door, she fidgeted with the long beige mac that concealed her naked body. Sherlock opened the door, an oven mitt covering his left hand, his cheeks flustered with stress that accompanied him with cooking. He looked at her up and down, deducing her choice of being heels and matching being mac, deciding that she had either a short dress on beneath, or...
Molly stepped in and shut the door behind her, watching as Sherlock's face changed from confusing to bewilderment as she untied the coat and dropped it to the floor, revealing her waiting, naked body. Tossing aside the oven mitt, Sherlock decided his attempt at Shepherd's pie, can wait, but his stunning pathologist can most certainly not wait. Scooping her up in one swift movement, they headed straight for his bedroom.
An hour later, they lay adjacent to each other, calming their hearts and collecting their breaths. After a length of silence, Molly thought she'd best speak up before she fell asleep.
"Let's tell John." She whispered, surprised at herself for managing not to stutter.
After thinking about it for some time, he replied accordingly.
"I don't know. Telling him might change things, between us. Telling people might put pressure on us and.. I don't know if I could manage with that yet. I've learnt so much about this sort of relationship over the last few weeks but.. I'm just not ready yet." He looked into her eyes seeking approval, his look sincere.
"Of course sweetheart, I understand." She did understand, and the last thing she wanted right now was to push Sherlock away. "Do you not think he may have already caught on though?"
Looking puzzled Sherlock replied;
"No I don't believe so. I'm careful what I say."
"But you told me yesterday when you came round, that you asked him for advice. Y'know.." She trailed off, blushing furiously, "personal, advice."
"For an experiment." Sherlock reasoned. "But Molly, can I just argue that we are both naked, in my bed, talking about John." He pulled her in close for a kiss. She giggled and bit her lip, tentatively though.
The smell of burning filled their nostrils as they both realised simultaneously that the Shepard's pie was still in the oven. Springing out of bed, Sherlock ran naked to the kitchen, just saving the oven in time before it set alight. Sherlock threw the ruined dinner in the sink and joined in the laughter he could hear from his bedroom. Hands on is bare hips, it took several minutes for the laughter to die down. And the cough from behind him to stand Sherlock to attention.
"Well this is awkward."
John's voice echoed through Sherlock's head like a warning bell. Suddenly aware he was very much naked, Sherlock ran to his bedroom, slamming the door behind him.
"John!" Whispered Sherlock to Molly, frantically pulling on his trousers. "Hide in here Molly!" He threw on his shirt, attempting to button it up straight and failing.
"Sorry John! In the middle of an experiment!" He shouted, finally getting his shirt buttoned correctly. He noticed Molly pulling on one of his shirts and looked at her, questioningly. "I don't think so Miss Hooper," he pulled the shirt from her, "you're staying right here while I get rid of him. Stay naked, I'll make it up to you." Pecking her lips quickly, he left the room, closing the door delicately behind him.
John looked at his friend, trying to think of the last time he saw Sherlock look so dishevelled. He thought. Never.
"Erm, Sherlock am I interrupting something?" Motioning to the smoking oven.
"Experiment John. Why are you here?" He leant on the table, trying to be nonchalant and seemingly fooling his blogger.
"Mary forgot her coat so I've nipped back to get it." He had a coat in hand, but it was certainly not Mary's. The beige coat hung in John's hand like a dirt secret. Before Sherlock could protest, and before he could decide it was probably in his benefit not to protest. Sherlock watched John leave.
Taking a deep breath, he headed back into the bedroom, closing the door behind him and throwing himself down onto the bed next to Molly, his head in his hands.
"What's up sweetheart?" Molly looked concerned as she held his hands away from his face, kissing his palms.
"I think John and Mary are going to have an argument later." He said, smirking.
"Mm?" She murmured, unbuttoning his shirt once more. "Why's that?"
"Because my dear," he helped her slip off his trousers and climbed under the duvet, joining Molly's warm body. "John has just taken your coat to Mary, believing it was hers."
Molly stopped kissing his chest and looked at him, concern filling her eyes.
"What?! Sherlock! Why didn't you stop him?! What am I going to go home in now?!" She straddled Sherlock and hit his chest whilst he laughed at her meek strength.
"You're going nowhere." He caught her hands and looked in her eyes. "Stay here with me. For the night. We'll sort your apparent nakedness in the morning. Assumingly, along with the aftermath of John and Mary's first marital blow up." He sat up and kissed her, feeling her infectious smile on his lips.
"Ok, but seeings as they'll be back, probably any minute, it looks like we're trapped in your bedroom for the night." They kissed more passionately, her hands in his hair and his hands cupping her face.
"Mm." He murmured, approvingly.
"And I have no clothes to my name."
"Mm."
"So what do you suggest we do?" She broke away to look at him. His reply was spoken with actions.