I'LL TAKE CARE OF YOU
6 November 2015
Summary: Molly finds out where Sherlock went at the end of At Last Chapter 2.
Ship: Sherlolly
Rating: G
A/N: Originally posted on my freelance editing blog.
She paused en route to the bed when she noticed that the flat was quiet. "Where had Sherlock gone?" she muttered to herself as she listened for his movements. She called out his name several times, but she received no answer. He must be at Mrs Hudson's flat. Sleepiness creeping up on her, she shrugged it off and climbed into bed. Within a few minutes, she was asleep.
Molly woke to find Toby dozing on her chest and Sherlock bent over by the bed. She blinked several times before her gaze landed on the glass of water on the bedside table.
"How are you feeling, Molly?" The detective drew himself up and placed his hands on his hips, gazing down at her with a small smile.
"Much better, thanks," she replied in a hoarse voice as she gently lifted Toby off her chest and set him next to her. She slowly sat up and sipped some water. She looked over at her cat, who laid his head on her thigh, and scratched the back of his ear with her free hand. "How many scratches did it take to bring Toby here?"
He glanced at the cat before smiling at the pathologist. "Hundreds. Anyway, I also brought back some clothes for you." He gestured towards a set of folded clothes on the armchair by his wardrobe. "I wasn't sure what you'd want to wear, so I selected a blouse, a light jumper, a pair of jeans, and a skirt."
She nodded and took another sip of water. "I hope you also brought underwear," she said with a slight giggle.
He flashed her a smile. "Of course. I took the matching lacy knickers and brassiere from the carrier bag next to your dressing table."
"Is that why you were gone when I got out of the bathroom? You went to my flat?"
He looked unsure for a moment. "Yes. Was that 'not good'? Sorry. I just wanted to fetch fresh clothes and your cat to help you feel better. I fed it before we left, and I, uh, brought a small can of cat food in case it gets hungry later."
She placed the tumbler back on the table and reached for his hand. "It's all right, Sherlock. Thank you for the clothes and for Toby. And thank you for the water. Honestly, I think I'm drier than Mr Jefferson's gangrene––"
"I doubt that." He shook his head slightly when he caught her her raised eyebrow. "Sorry. Continue."
She rolled her eyes good-naturedly as she released his hand. "Never mind. Um, did Mrs Hudson say when my clothes would be done?"
"They should be out of the dryer within half an hour. Oh, Mrs Hudson also sent up the fruit smoothie she mentioned this morning; it's in the fridge, if you want it. But, um, Angelo is delivering some food in a few minutes. Of course it's fine if you'd prefer to get dressed or nap some more." He lowered his head, though his pink cheeks did not escape Molly's notice. "But if you think your stomach can take heavy Italian food, then…" He cleared his throat as he gazed at her. "I'd like for you to join me."
She grinned. "I'd love to, Sherlock."
The title comes from Etta James's song from the Life, Love & the Blues album.
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