Summary:

After the confrontation with Culverton Smith, there are things Sherlock needs to say to Molly. As Always, Molly has the upper hand, even on his birthday. A missing scene, set after they meet at the cake place in The Lying Detective.

A/N: Loads of other writers have done fantastic versions of the ambulance scene and the cake scene (I might still do my own at some point...), so I thought I'd have a go at a slightly different angle. Based on the assumption something physical (but not necessarily good) happened during Sherlock's physical in the ambulance.

Corner of Edgware Road and Chapel Street in Central London, just after sunset. Sherlock, John and Molly make their way down the pavement, among the bustle of evening traffic, having just exited Patisserie Valerie. They pause a block down, just across from an underground station.

JOHN: Well, I'm off. See you tomorrow...six to ten.

He moves to cross the street, but turns back at the sound of Sherlock's voice.

SHERLOCK: Bring Rosie. I mean, if it's not too much bother.

John looks mildly surprised. Sherlock hurries on before he can reply.

SHERLOCK: I'd like to continue her science tutoring. She has a solid understanding of gravity and basic human psychology. By my reckoning she'll have mastered-

MOLLY (gaping at Sherlock): She's barely ten months old!

JOHN (smirking): Already trained you to pick up the toys she tosses on the floor, has she?

Molly chuckles and Sherlock frowns.

SHERLOCK: No! Well, yes. (earnestly) I'd like to see her, John.

JOHN (smirk morphing into a genuine smile): Yeah, alright. Tomorrow then. Ta.

SHERLOCK (nodding): Six to ten.

John gives a quick nod to them both, crosses the street and disappears into the underground station. Sherlock and Molly continue down the street.

MOLLY: John seems better. I'm glad you two finally got things sorted. I've been worried sick about the both of you.

SHERLOCK: Yes, well, cake goes a long way. Just ask Mycroft...

MOLLY (swats him gently on the arm with a reproachful look): It wasn't the cake. You went off your trolley on drugs, acted a complete arse and let him beat the shit out of you. Surely, there was some less dangerous way to reach him, other than nearly being murdered by a serial killer. Not to mention having everyone beside themselves with worry.

SHERLOCK: You know there really wasn't.

MOLLY (with a sigh): I know...less dangerous isn't your style.

Sherlock stops walking and takes Molly's arm, turning her to face him, then quickly pulls away as if he expects her to rebuff his touch and plunges his hands into his coat pockets. He takes a deep breath and studies the pavement for a long moment before raising his face to meet hers.

SHERLOCK: I owe you an apology for the way I acted when you examined me in the ambulance. (he looks in turns remorseful and ashamed) I have no filters when I'm high, but that's no excuse. I behaved badly. I am sorry.

MOLLY (frowning a little): It's okay. You weren't yourself.

SHERLOCK (brow furling): No, it isn't okay. Something John said earlier today made me realize... When I'm high I am myself... totally myself. No restraint, no control. Just a giant git who's too full of himself to notice what really matters. That's not who I want to be. Not anymore... I...

Molly presses her lips together, waiting for him to continue.

SHERLOCK: I... I want to be what you see in me. Everything you think I am. Or, everything you used to think I was, at any rate.

MOLLY (nods then looks up and meets his eyes, her features softening): You are. You always have been.

She leans up on tip-toe and kisses his cheek, then without warning, reaches up and swipes the deerstalker off his head. She deftly spins it in her hand and places it atop her own head. He smiles and runs his hands through his now exposed curls as they resume walking.

MOLLY: So... it was the drugs?

SHERLOCK (confused): Yes, of course it was the drugs. I just told you that.

MOLLY (blushing slightly): No, what I mean is...was it the drugs that made you so, erm...randy? Do you normally just ignore those urges? Or, do you really have no interest when you're sober?

SHERLOCK: I've said before, romantic entangle-

MOLLY (cutting him off): I not talking about romance, Sherlock, I'm talking about sex.

SHERLOCK (swallows and looks about uncomfortably): We're all human sometimes.

MOLLY: Well, maybe next time you're feeling human, try something a bit more conventional? A lovely evening out, maybe? You know, instead of commandeering an ambulance?

SHERLOCK (scrunches up his nose, clearly not keen on the direction the conversation is headed): I was high at the time. Besides, a lovely evening out...where's the adventure in that?

MOLLY: Well, you had a good time tonight. Admit it.

Sherlock shrugs. Molly pulls off the deerstalker and holds it out to him. He takes it, but only to gently place it back on her head, brushing a strand of hair away from her forehead as he does so.

SHERLOCK: Keep it. It suits you.

MOLLY: See? It's not so hard, even for you.

SHERLOCK: I'm learning.

She smiles up at him and he holds out his arm, which she takes. They continue down the street side by side.

MOLLY (smirking): I'm still not going to fondle your balls, Sherlock.

SHERLOCK: It's my birthday, I'm not high and I even wore the hat. It was worth a try.

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A/N: Originally published on Archive of Our Own as a gift for Rainmyselfinharmony for motivating me to finish it.