Sherlock heard Molly long before he saw her.

He grinned, listening to the shriek that announced her awakening in his bed, and the subsequent bumps and curse words as she stumbled out of his room into the kitchen. Her hair was a mess and there were remnant of makeup from the night before still on her face. She clutched his dressing gown around her otherwise naked body looking extremely awkward as she met his eyes. He was watching her from his chair, his laptop on his knees. She'd never looked more beautiful to him.

"Good morning Molly." His voice was a little deeper than normal and he was acutely aware of why it was.

She smiled crookedly at him. "Uhm, g-good morning, Sherlock. I uhm, I'm just gonna get some clothes." She dashed through the kitchen and up to her room.

Sherlock stared after her and sighed. And we're back to the stuttering. He got to his feet and put his computer on the table before following her up to her room. He leaned on the doorframe, observing her movements as she tore through drawers, digging for clothes.

"You know, this would be easier if we moved your clothes into my closet."

She stopped dead, pivoting to face him, dressed in only a bra and knickers. Pale green this time. He swallowed hard.

"What?" She stared at him with her mouth open in surprise.

He rolled his eyes at her, sighing. "Obviously, if we are going to share a bed, I can make room for your things."

He studied her carefully as a rather attractive flush spread across her skin.

"Oh, uhm, are we going to be sharing a bed then?" She looked anywhere except his face so he crossed the room to take her in his arms, smirking at the tiny sigh of satisfaction that came from the woman.

Taking her chin in his hand, he lifted her face until he could look into her eyes and replied, "I had rather hoped we would. Are you opposed to the idea?"

"No!" she shrieked quickly, wincing as she realized just how fast she had replied. "I mean, no Sherlock, I am not opposed to that idea."

He let go of her, ignoring the urge to throw her on the bed, and clapped his hands together, rubbing vigorously.

"Fantastic. Get dressed, we have things to do today!" At her perplexed gaze, he sighed. "I might not understand the sentiment of this day but I know that you wish to participate in it. Therefore, you need to break things off with whatever-his-name-is so we can spend the day together doing whatever inane things normal people do on this day."

She shook her head, an exasperated, yet fond, grin on her face. "So close, Sherlock, so close."

He rethought his words. "I mean, I wish to take you on a date for Valentine's Day?"

"Better." She beamed at him, and turned to gather up clothing to take into the bathroom with her. He took that as his cue, (though he was tempted to follow her into the bath,) and headed back down the stairs.

Not quite an hour later, Sherlock and Molly left the flat, after an awkward encounter with Mrs. Hudson who insisted on hugging them both multiple times and congratulating them on their shag. Her exact words. Sherlock could feel his ears burn and Molly was red as well. He was sure the blush was more attractive on her than on himself.

He pulled a note card from his jacket pocket and proceeded to skim it quickly, before popping back into the pocket and grabbing Molly's hand, practically hauling her down the street.

"Alright, first order of business, breakfast." He paused. "Or actually, an early lunch. You do sleep late when you were inebriated the previous night."

He was a man on a mission as he dragged her down the street, headed towards a nondescript little café where he sat her down and handed her a menu, ordering a coffee for himself. He wasn't planning on eating this meal, having eaten yesterday morning and knowing he was going to eat that night. When Molly's eggs, bacon and pancakes (she opted for breakfast instead of lunch, typical Molly) he was surprised to feel his stomach rumble. He glanced down in disbelief. But I just fed you. He snuck a piece of bacon, ignoring Molly's grin.

"So, Sherlock? Uhm,"

"Yes, Molly. I would consider us a couple now."

"Oh. Was I thinking that loudly?"

"I know you very well."

She smothered a pleased smile at that and he was proud of himself for saying the right thing. So far so good.

"So, any interesting bodies I should take a look at tomorrow?"

He lost himself in her words as she excitedly explained her most recent findings in the body of an older woman who had a fantastically weird blood clot. His phone buzzed in his pocket but he ignored it in favor of listening to her. She's the only person in the world I'd ignore a phone call for. Ah, it's probably just John, reminding me not to be an arse and that we have dinner plans. The buzzing stopped and he smiled at Molly.

She finished eating, (or rather, THEY finished eating, he filched several more bites of food from her,) and he paid. Standing, he offered her his hand and shuddered at the feel of her tiny fingers intertwining with his much larger ones.

"So what now?" she asked, scrutinizing their linked hands as he dragged her along again.

He held up his hand, attracting the attention of a nearby cab and pulled her to him, giving her a scorching kiss.

"I've been wanting to do that all morning. Now, let's go break up with your boyfriend. Your other one. Wait that came out wrong." He sputtered, not finding the right words and feeling like a complete idiot.

He shook his head and pulled her into the cab after him.

Sherlock watched from across the café where they first met Daniel as Molly fidgeted with a napkin. She sipped a cup of coffee and nibbled on a scone. Stress eater. Never noticed that before. He was finding that there were many things he hadn't realized about his pathologist. Just when he thought he knew everything about her, she still managed to surprise him. That was some feat considering he could read most people like a book and determine their actions before they could themselves.

He ignored the buzzing of his phone, rolling his eyes. Mycroft or Lestrade could wait and he already knew what John would say.

He snapped to attention when he spotted the man making his way to Molly's table. Sherlock was out of Daniel's line of sight but close enough that he could hear what was said between the two.

"Hullo, Molly." Sherlock stiffened as Daniel gave a stiff Molly a kiss on the cheek.

"Hi Daniel."

"So what's so important that you can't wait until tonight? I've got something special planned." He took the seat across from her and looked at her expectantly.

"Uhm, that's what I wanted to talk to you about. I don't think we should see each other anymore."

There was a pregnant pause.

"Please don't tell me this is about that arse you live with."

Molly visibly deflated and Sherlock clenched a fist.

"He doesn't care about you. If he did, he'd treat you better."

Molly bristled, glaring at the other man. "Don't pretend you know him. You don't. He might not be like everyone else, but that makes him better, not worse."

Daniel snorted. "You're fooling yourself if you think that he can give you what you need."

Sherlock was done. He stood and stalked over to the two arguing people, putting a hand on Molly's shoulder and squeezing gently, he was gratified to feel her lean into his touch. He glared down at the other man and narrowed his eyes.

"And of course he's here. Too afraid to face me alone, Mols?" Daniel sent an angry glare in Molly's direction.

"Don't call her that."

"Oh? Why not?" Everything about Daniel's body language alluded to barely contained fury.

"She doesn't like it." Sherlock rolled his eyes. It was obvious she hated the nickname. Whether it was just distaste or the fact that Moriarty called her that, he wasn't sure.

"How would you know?" Daniel questioned.

"I know her better than anyone else in the world." Sherlock stated matter-of-factly.

"Really?"

"Yes," he answered smugly. "Now if you will excuse us, we are going to enjoy our first day as a couple."

Molly winced, but Sherlock didn't care. Everything inside him was screaming for him to stake his claim on her. It was a little domineering for his taste but he couldn't fight it. He took her hand and helped her up from the table, holding out her coat for her. She shrugged into it and they turned to leave, but before they could go, the spurned man let out a parting shot.

"When he fails you Molly, I'll be waiting for your call." Sherlock couldn't decide exactly what the look on his face was. There was anger, sure, but there was also sadness. He shook off the tinge of guilt he felt, knowing that the other man was probably right. He probably would disappoint her someday. But that didn't mean he couldn't try. For her.

Sherlock draped his arm around her and led her from the café. She directed a watery smile up at him.

"Now that is taken care of, let's go enjoy our day, yeah?"

She nodded and let him lead her towards a cab as he consulted his notecard.

"I have everything planned out."

Three hours later, they stood outside The Royal Society of Medicine Library with an irate librarian screaming at them. Molly had a chastened expression on her face but Sherlock was trying, and failing, to suppress a laugh.

"Have you no decency?! This is NOT the place to have a snog!" The little old woman snapped in their faces and turned on her heel, marching back through the doors angrily. Sherlock let go and roared with laughter, startling Molly, who had never heard him so open with his mirth. He got himself under control for the most part and held his hand out to her.

"Well, that was an adventure. Singed a bit were you, my dear?"

She gaped at him. "Did you just quote The Princess Bride?"

He nodded the affirmative, a bit guiltily, and she grinned.

"You are the perfect man."

"I didn't know you liked ice cream." Molly said around a mouthful of strawberry heaven.

Sherlock grinned. "Never could resist it. Even in the dead of winter."

His phone buzzed. He silenced it.

Molly threw another piece of bread to the hungry ducks.

"How did you know that I love coming here?" she inquired.

Sherlock shrugged nonchalantly. "You mentioned it once while we were running electric shock tests on a fatty liver."

"Oh. I didn't know you were listening."

"I always listen to you."

He took his notecard out of his pocket and glanced at it, mentally checking off items.

He wasn't quick enough to dodge when Molly grabbed for it.

"What's this?" she teased, reading over it.

He made a grab for it but the pathologist was surprisingly agile.

"Sherlock, is this a list of things you think you need to do for me on Valentine's Day?"

Flowers, candy, dinner, jewelry, meaningful gift.

He glared at the ground.

"I may have asked John's advice."

She handed it back to him and encircled his waist with her arms, linking her hands behind him and looking up into his face. I'll never get tired of this feeling.

"Sherlock, you don't have to be normal. I don't want you to be normal."

He smiled down at her affectionately. "Come on, it should be time to meet up with John and Mary for dinner."