To the lovely guest reviewer, thank you so much! I'm glad you enjoy the outfits I put together for Molly on ao3! :)
Molly woke with a slight pounding in her head, wanting nothing more than to have a cup of coffee and take an aspirin, but didn't want to move out of the warmth of Sherlock's arms. She felt him press a kiss to her cheek from behind.
"Good morning," he spoke lowly, his voice hoarse.
"Mm, morning," she replied, nuzzling closer to him.
"Coffee?" he asked.
"God, yes," Molly gave a small laugh. He moved to get up and tossed on his dressing gown. She decided the view from the sofa was quite nice but shivered from the loss of his body heat. Sherlock tucked the blanket tighter around her, and she couldn't help but squirm under his light touch as she was extremely ticklish.
"I'm trying to keep you warm, stop squirming," he chuckled.
"Can't help it," she giggled. Sherlock leaned down and kissed the tip of her nose, smiling as she scrunched it up at him. He disappeared into the kitchen and came back out moments later with two cups of coffee. Molly sat up, still wrapped in her fuzzy blanket.
"You okay?" Sherlock asked as he seated him beside her.
"Hm? Yeah, it's just a small headache," Molly replied. He handed her the cup of coffee and she took it gratefully, taking a sip. "It's worth it though; I had fun last night." She rested her head on his shoulder.
"I did too," he told her. "We don't get to go out often." He pressed a kiss in her hair and took a sip of his own cup. "Maybe you can help on my next case."
"I already help with your cases," she pointed out.
"I know. I just meant like last time when I came back," Sherlock explained.
"I'd like that," Molly smiled. She paused then and laughed, "Mind the gap." He laughed along with her.
"There's no way he had a girlfriend," he snickered.
"Hush you," she giggled, playfully shoving her shoulder against his arm. "Someone might be saying the same about you."
"Touché," Sherlock agreed.
After dinner that evening, Molly appeared behind Sherlock in her polka dot pajamas.
"Want to help with dessert?" she asked.
"Is snogging a dessert?" he grinned cheekily.
"No, but I think you'll like this just as much," Molly told him. "Any guesses?"
"I don't guess, I observe," Sherlock pointed out.
"Well, then observe, Sherlock Holmes," Molly teased.
"The oven is preheating to one hundred and eighty degrees Celsius; eggs, flour, butter, syrup and brown sugar set out by the mixing bowl. But you left out one important ingredient," Sherlock told her.
"Oh? And what might that be?" she inquired, backing into the counter to block the spice rack.
"Ginger," he replied, attempting to reach around her. Molly stopped his hand from reaching the spice.
"That's gonna cost you," she smirked.
"Oh? And what do you require?" Sherlock asked, playing along.
"A good snogging," Molly answered playfully. She didn't even catch the moment he was leaning in before his lips were on hers, kissing her deeply, tongues tangling and hands in each other's hair. When Sherlock broke away, they were both out of breath.
"Will that suffice?" he questioned, his breathing heavy. Molly reached behind her and grabbed the ginger, nodding. She was too dazed to form any words. He was a bloody good kisser and his ability to take her breath away never ceased to amaze her.
They baked the ginger nuts together but not without a couple of instances where they pranked each other with some of the ingredients. Flour was thrown and the batter was dabbed on each other's noses by the time the biscuits made their way into the oven. Sherlock leaned down to kiss the batter off of her nose…at least that's what she thought.
"Did you just lick my nose!?" she laughed.
"Payback for licking my hand in the lab supply closet," he chuckled.
Molly was taking the biscuits out of the oven while Sherlock sat on the sofa, flipping through channels.
"Anything good on the telly tonight?" she called out to him.
"Not unless you like awful horror movies," he replied.
"I'm game," Molly smiled. "I love laughing at terrible low budget movies."
"If you insist," he smiled. They settled in under Molly's blanket, curled up together and sharing a platter of ginger nuts. They made fun of the awful effects and terrible acting. It was so painfully obvious to guess the typical clichés of each character, though they did compete to figure out who the murderer was in each film.
Molly had dozed off hours later, tucked up against him. Sherlock's attention had readjusted from the telly to his girlfriend sleeping peacefully in his arms. He felt a shift within his mind palace in the room where all things Molly were concerned. He's always trusted her and somewhere in the middle of all the awful but hilarious morbid jokes, experiments and cases, he fell in love with her.
It had scared him at first, asking for her help with his faked death. He was nervous when he returned and heartbroken when her engagement became real to him. Sherlock had felt himself losing her and felt it again after the phone call, but each time, Molly Hooper surprised him with her devotion and unconditional love. He wondered if she knew how devoted he truly was to her.
Molly stirred in her sleep when he carried her to their bedroom in his arms. Her eyes fluttered open long enough to look up at him with a sweet smile. She turned her head and placed a kiss on his chest, over his heart which swelled with so much emotion at her affection.
"Love you," she spoke softly, as he laid her down.
"I love you too, Molly," he replied. "Always."
Author's Note: I really love writing these two. It's so natural; the inside jokes, camaraderie and love between them. It's not just the big things that make up a romance, but rather all of the little things that build up between two people in love. Those are the things that matter most.