I apologise for the amount of John and Molly's relationships that revolves around 'strange' foods and wearing pajamas, it's a very me thing to do. They say write about what you know and I wear pj's almost more than clothes whilst I eat weird combinations of food. - Not the longest chapter, a bit of fluff to tide the story over while I think of some plot :P

They had talked into the early hours of the morning, neither could tell you what about, but it had kept their attention. They had sat cross-legged on the living room rug, bare feet curling into to soft fabric and legs occasionally bumping into one another. Molly remembered laughing, heartily, so much so she had fallen backward, her back hitting the floor with a soft thump and prompting more giggles; John remembered the shine of her eyes and her broad smile as she had toppled, he had grasped for her hand, unsuccessfully, but as she continued her laughter he noticed the soft flow of her hair as it splayed out across the floor, and couldn't help but imagine such an image in a more indecent situation. He had blushed, almost scarlet, and it would have been an embarrassment were he sharing the company of anybody else.

Molly was well aware that some of her rapt attention in the early hours had been focused not on John's words, but the lips they fell from, she had spent a good hour with her focus on the contours of his face, the laughter lines that had faded in lieu of those associated with worry. She could see he was still clearly tired, without concealer it was near impossible to hide the faint purple the coloured just below his eyes, but she was thankful that there was something of a relief, a happiness that was again beginning to flood his features, reducing the furrow of his brow, as the lines that were beginning to reemerge on his handsome face reflected the bubbling she felt inside at his glance. His eyes were so soft, and she was sure that she was lost in the blue sparkle long enough that she lost all remnants of the conversation.

John had been talking, he was sure of it, he felt the tug in his lips as his mouth had moved and formulated words. Funny words apparently, he realised as Molly had laughed. But he was none the wiser for what was spoken, far too focused on the soft curves of everything Molly, of the bod of her head as she agreed with his sentiment, her hair or the deep chocolate of her eyes. Or those bloody jeans. Jesus Christ those jeans.

It was around 4 in the morning when Molly's heavy lidded eyes began to close for longer and longer with each blink, John himself was taking elongated blinks and it was decided it was probably time for sleep.

John rose from his position on the floor pins and needles tingling at his toes as he wiggled them. Molly on the other hand, had a fully dead leg, and was shaking it vigorously to reintroduce a steady blood circulation; she looked up at John, a sweet smile on her face as if to excuse the rather clumsy action, lifting her hands for him to help her up. As he did so, hoisting her up and pulling her close to him, soft chucking was heard from both sides, "you already knew about the crazy, Doctor Watson, no way out now."

"Good." He said as he pulled her into a searing kiss. It was passionate and all to fast, but if he were honest, John was dead on his feet and he could feel Molly was too, too tired to carry on, resting their foreheads together they breathed each others air and waited until they had no other choice but to part.

They had gone to their separate beds that night, readying themselves into comfortable pajamas for the sleeping into the day that lay ahead. Two souls who had not seen extended happiness, feel asleep with full-fledged smiles upon their faces and the most wicked of thoughts running through their heads.

"Morning."

"Oh. Hello." Molly smiled nervously as she continued to layer the banana slices into the soft brown bread, sprinkling a little sugar on before closing the sandwich. "Though it's more afternoon," she said as she pointed to the wall clock, showing the time to be nearing three o'clock, "brunch?" She swiveled on her heel displaying the odd sandwich, a coy smile spread across her lips when she saw John Watson, clad in pajamas, that were rumpled yet clean, his hair stuck up at odd ends and there was a roughness to the stubble on his skin, in a bout of confidence she leaned in and kissed the toothpaste off the corner his mouth. Gliding past him and setting her plate down on the table, and air of bliss filled the room.

John look simply baffled, not only had he slept through half of the day, a quiet luxury, but he was receiving sweet kisses, and being offered brunch by the sweetest of lips. Then again he was probably more confused by the idea of a banana sandwich. "Of all things to put in a sandwich. Bananas. Molls, really?"

Molly could only giggle as she bit into the soft fruit and crunchy sugar. "Don't knock it until you've tried it."

John hummed and shrugged his shoulders, "mmmkay." He grabbed the other half of her sandwich taking an almighty bite from the centre.

"You know that look on your face is indistinguishable, if you're going to steal my sandwiches at least enjoy them."

"S'good." He mumbled around another piece of banana. "I'm going to have to remember to never question your judgment again."

"You, mister. Should never have questioned it in the first place."

"Well, you did agree to go out with me, I had to question it a little."

"I can see your point." She said jokingly, as John's jaw dropped slightly. "Oi." He poked Molly gently in the side, eliciting a giggle.

It had been three busy work days later, and the pair were curled up on the sofa eating leftover pasta, laughing at those hospital dramas, riddled with inaccuracies and glamourising a gruesome reality. "There has never been a morgue attendant that happy. Ever. And I should know I used to be one of them!"

John chuckled at her statement, but did not answer. A question of his own was formulating, surely it would be easier to ask the second time round.

"Molls? Go out with me again?" Molly turned to him, just now realising his arm was draped over her shoulders, the whole time.

"Of course, where are you taking me?"

"My secret."

And to the lovely guest: I will probably continue this to the point where you beg for it to be over. Be careful what you wish for J but thanks so much. I'm very glad you're enjoying it.