A/N: For the August 20th prompt - "Write about stealing time." Rated T. Follows Promises Made.
Molly woke Saturday evening to an empty bed. "Sherlock?" she called out. There was no response from the bathroom. After using the bathroom herself, she pulled on her dressing gown and went downstairs.
Sherlock was in the kitchen, scowling at one of her cookbooks. She couldn't help feeling a tiny bit disappointed that he was dressed. "None of this makes any sense," he muttered.
"What is it you're trying to do?" she asked, curious. Molly saw a post-it covering the clock on the stove, and another covering the clock on the microwave. "Sherlock, what's going on?"
"My parents must have told everyone about 'my' death. I started getting a bunch of 'condolence' calls and I wanted to put a stop to it before anyone called you." He set the cookbook down then gently took her hands. "We're stealing time, Molly. All the clock faces are hidden and both of our phones are off. Any calls that come in will go straight to voice-mail. I decided that we needed to take some time for ourselves after everything that's happened. Don't think about how long something takes, and definitely don't think about the outside world. If you need a break from me, take it."
She blinked in surprise. "I don't need a break from you, you're the only thing that's keeping me sane right now. A break from the outside world does sound nice, though." She softly kissed his cheek. "Thank you, Sherlock."
His cheeks colored slightly. "You're welcome."
"Were you going to cook something?"
"I was trying to." He went back to the cookbook. "I thought cooking was just about following a recipe, but none of them make any sense. How am I supposed to 'fold in' two eggs?"
Molly giggled. "Sherlock, if you're hungry, I can make you something."
"Would you?" He sounded relieved. "I'm getting nowhere slow with this thing." He set the cookbook down again.
"What would you like?"
The way he looked at her told her what he really wanted was her, but all he said was, "Um, chocolate cake?"
Molly felt her cheeks grow warm. "I can do that." Maybe I should just take him up on his offer. We're married, after all. She pulled out the recipe then gathered the ingredients.
Sherlock leaned against the peninsula, watching her. "Ford couldn't get enough of your biscuits."
She smiled a bit. "Ford couldn't get enough of anything I made. Honestly, that exercise regimen of his was partly to counteract all the baked goods he ate." The sex helped too.
He chuckled. "Now it makes sense."
"Do you know how to cook anything, Sherlock?"
"If it doesn't involve reheating in the microwave, no."
She smiled a bit. "Typical bachelor. Well, you're a married man now, it's time you learned a few things. Come closer."
"As my lady commands," he said, grinning, as he came over to her.
Molly had him read the recipe to her and she showed him which each step meant. When the batter was finished, she wasn't surprised at all when he stole a spoonful.
"You do realize there's raw egg in that, right?" she asked, smirking.
Sherlock grinned at her as he licked the spoon. "I ate this stuff all the time when I was a kid, hasn't killed me yet."
Her eyes kept straying to his tongue as he continued to lick the spoon clean. He, of course, noticed.
He leaned to murmur in her ear, "Anytime you want me to lick you clean, just say the word, Molly."
Molly felt her cheeks flame and she playfully swatted his arm. "Behave, Sherlock."
Sherlock chuckled. "Nah, misbehaving is much more fun." He softly kissed her cheek, grinning. "You can't tell me you're not having fun, Molly Holmes."
"I am," she said, grinning back, "and it's Dr. Molly Holmes."
"How can I forget the title of the sexiest pathologist in London?"
Molly laughed. "I'd be flattered except that that's not a large group."
He grinned wider. "Sexiest pathologist in Europe?"
She grinned back. "Much better, thank you."
"You're welcome."
He helped her pour the batter into three cake pans then Molly put them in the oven while she started on the frosting. Once again, Sherlock stole a spoonful when it was done. He tried to take another but she pushed his spoon away.
"Stop or there won't be enough for the cake," she said, unable to keep from smiling at his sad puppy expression. It was his lower lip wibbling that did her in. "What do I have to do to keep you from eating more of the frosting?"
His delighted grin went from ear to ear. "Kiss me."
"Easy enough." She kissed his cheek.
"Nope, not good enough."
"Well, then…" She kissed his chin.
"Getting closer."
"Hmph." She kissed the tip of his nose.
"Oh, Molly…" Sherlock took her in his arms and proceeded to snog her breathless.
Molly could only think one thing.
Bloody hell, I'm in deep…