Hot Chocolate
As the milk heated on the little stove Molly became hotly aware of just how snug their accommodation was. Even with her seated by the stove and Sherlock sitting cross legged on the bed scarcely five feet separated them. They'd stood and worked closer than this before, but in this tiny, warm space everything felt heightened. The rain drumming on the roof added to the sensation of being cocooned and isolated from the world.
Molly poured the drinks and added some marshmallows. Sherlock grinned like a little kid as he accepted his mug, but his joy faded as Molly settled back into the chair.
"Come sit on the bed Molly. You'll be more comfortable."
Molly's head tilted in surprise as Sherlock shifted closer to one of the walls. He didn't have far to go and it dawned on her that he'd left space for her from the start. Her heart swelled at the gesture, considerate Sherlock was a rare experience and she knew she was one of the select few to be deemed worthy of it.
They sat comfortably together drinking hot chocolate and talking about the interns Molly was supervising at Barts. When Molly stretched her legs out in front of her, her feet brushed Sherlock's thigh. Before she could pull back his long fingered hands took hold of her foot and began massaging along the arch. She stammered over what she was saying and stared at him wide eyed.
"Is this alright? Do you not like having your feet touched?"
"It's fine, more than fine, just a little unexpected."
Sherlock hummed and focused on massaging her foot. He kept his eyes on the task in hand as he softly said;
"I find myself wanting to touch you, all of you, all the time."
His confession hung in the air between them for seconds that stretched into eons. Sherlock's hands faltered and stopped. He swallowed nervously and forced his head up to meet Molly's eyes.
"What do you want you, Sherlock?"
"You."
Molly nodded and pulled her foot from Sherlock's lax grasp. She knelt up and moved a little closer towards him.
"Just for a holiday fling?"
Sherlock shook his head rapidly.
"No, I want you. You're everywhere in my mind palace. I want it, us, to be like that outside of my head as well. I want to matter to you, to prove I'm worthy of your affection."
Sherlock was letting his emotions show on his face, uncertainty, fear and nervousness all vying for dominance across his sharp cheek bones and in his multi-hued eyes. Molly licked her suddenly dry lips and moved towards him.
Once more the vicious seconds elongated themselves beyond their allotted span. Molly was certain something was going to break the spell; something was going to interrupt and destroy their chance.
Sherlock surged up and mashed his mouth against hers. Molly's brain tried to report every action; his hands sliding around her waist, her melting into him, him pulling her into his lap, her fingers threading into his hair, but logic gave way to sensation and all she could feel was Sherlock, surrounding her, pouring into her, consuming her, worshiping her.
The boring need to breathe made itself known and their lips separated just enough to allow it.
"I don't want to make love to you," Sherlock gasped.
A confidence Molly rarely showed caused her to roll her hips against the obvious bulge in his lap. Sherlock's groan was sinful.
"Well, obviously I want to make love to you; desperately, but not here. I want to wait until we're back in London, so it's real, can't be mistaken for a holiday fling."
Molly smirked and kissed him again, her lips slid down to the perfect column of his neck and Sherlock's head thumped back against the wall.
"That is not helping my resolve Dr Hooper."
She chuckled against his throat and relented. Sherlock wanting to wait was possibly the single sweetest thing she'd ever heard. With happy smiles and quick kisses they got ready to sleep. Molly Hooper drifted into slumber wrapped in the tight embrace of Sherlock Holmes while the ever doubting part of her mind observed with slack jawed shock.
[][][]
Molly waved at the departing car before she rang the Watson's doorbell. Sherlock had driven them back to London and was going to return the rental car before joining her in visiting John and Mary. Molly had been walking on air since waking up this morning spooning with Sherlock. It was struggle to stop the sheer joy showing on her face, but she wanted to tell Mary of her new relationship rather than let the observant woman deduce it.
"Molly! How was camping?"
Mary embraced her as much as her very pregnant belly would allow.
"Oh you know. Interesting. Hello John."
John grinned in welcome and then tilted his head to one side.
"Y'know Molly, most people only get mosquito bites on a camping trip."
Molly blushed and grinned happily as her hand flew to the love bite on her neck.
Sherlock had just climbed into a taxi to take him back to John's house when his phone bleeped.
iWell done mate! – JW
About bloody time! – MW
Congratulations brother mine. She's no goldfish -MH/i