Holmes' Book Of One Shots

Oh, Hello John... (Sherlolly)

            Molly awoke with a yawn. She didn’t have to check to know that her partner’s side of the bed was empty. It was every morning.

            She knew that would happen when she began dating Sherlock a month and a half ago. She knew he wouldn’t be next to her every morning, awaking her with a kiss on the cheek; however she was satisfied with falling asleep in his arms each night – well, most nights. He didn’t want anyone to know about them yet either, and Molly didn’t either. It was nice to be in a relationship without anyone constantly asking how they are doing. It was also easy to keep the secret when John and Mary were on a two-month summer holiday.

            She yawned, and threw the covers off of her. She looked down, and realized she was still wearing Sherlock’s purple button down shirt. She would change later; right now she was in need of some coffee.

            Molly threw her legs over the edge of the bed and stood up on the floor. With another yawn, she began walking towards the door, running a hand through her messy hair as she went. She placed her hand on the doorknob, twisting it and pulling it open.

            She shrieked.

            “Oh,” She said, blood rushing to her cheeks. “Hello John…”

            John Watson looked stunned, and then gave Molly a smile. “Hello Molly.”

            Molly tugged the bottom of Sherlock’s shirt in an attempt to hide the fact that she wasn’t wearing any pants. “Terribly sorry…I’m not, um, dressed.”

            “Yeah, I can see that.” John’s smile didn’t fade.

            Well, Molly thought. I guess the secret is over.

            Molly let go of the shirt, giving up on concealing herself. Sherlock would kill her if she stretched his shirt. “Um, do you mind putting some coffee on?”

            John continued to stare at her. “Yeah, no problem.”

            A door opened, and Sherlock walked into the kitchen, his hair wet from a shower. “Good morning Molly.” Sherlock said.

            Molly turned round to face him, and Sherlock leaned down, pressing his lips to hers softly. He pulled away after a second and looked up to John, who had stopped making coffee and was now staring at them, grinning wildly.

            “Well,” Sherlock said, looking to Molly. “I guess the secret is over.” He turned to John. “Back from your sex holiday, I see.”

            John sighed, rolling his eyes as he returned to his coffee. “Holiday.”

            “Oh, right. My apologies for stating the obvious instead of using the correct term.” Sherlock said, smirking.

            John blushed.

            “Okay,” Molly said, her cheeks still pink. “I’m going to go and, um, change.”

            Sherlock looked down at her. “Oh, you don’t have to Molly. I’m sure John doesn’t mi–“

            “No, I’ve got to change.” Molly said, rushing back to the bedroom. 

            “You’ve got a girlfriend?” John asked after he finished the coffee. He and Sherlock sat in their chairs.

            “Yes I have.” Sherlock said, a smile tugging at his lips.

            “Like, a proper girlfriend?” John asked. “Not like Janine, right?”

            “Of course not,” Sherlock frowned. “What purpose would I have for doing that to Molly Hooper?”

            “And she is properly your girlfriend,” John asked, still in disbelief. “Like, with dates and flat sharing, and spending quality time together.”

            Sherlock thought for a moment. “Does experimenting in the kitchen on body parts she brings home from work count as a date?”

            John shook his head. “Sherlock, no offense, but how did you get a girlfriend?”

            “I prefer calling her my pathologist.” Sherlock stated.

            John laughed. “I can’t believe this.”

            “What’s wrong?” Sherlock asked.

            “It’s just, I’ve never pictured you, of all people, having a girlfriend. It’s fantastic!”

            “Yes, I believe it is.”

            “Molly Hooper,” John leaned back in his chair, smiling at his best friend. “When did that happen?”

            “One month, two weeks, and three days ago,” Sherlock said. “It was around two in the afternoon. It is four now, so that would be…”

            “Oh,” Molly said as she exited the bathroom. “You’re keeping track, are you?”

            “Of course,” Sherlock turned his head in her direction. ”I’m supposed to do that, aren’t I?”

            Molly walked over to him, and took a seat on his lap. “Of course you are. I just didn’t think you would.”

            “Why’s that?” Sherlock asked, cocking his head.

            “Because you’re Sherlock Holmes,” Molly said. “You’re not like any average bloke.”

            “Exactly,” Sherlock said. “I’m better.”

            “At keeping track of dates?”

            “At everything.”

            Molly giggled. “I agree with that.” Sherlock chuckled.

            John cleared his throat, reminding his friends that he was still in the room.

            Molly’s cheeks turned crimson, and Sherlock just looked at her with a smile on his face. Molly Hooper. His pathologist.

Art by catheerine [deviantart]