Sick Day (Sherlolly)

Sick

Molly hooper hadn't missed a day of work in three years. She smiled to herself as she thought over it. She had worked through pneumonia, the flu, and every brutal cold. But today was different. Today she had to....she had to...had- ACHOO!

There it was. The reason she couldn't go in. Something about this sickness was different. And she had thought it best to stay at her flat, cozy in a blanket, and books enough for a year. She groaned when she got out of bed, her headache throbbing. But tea must be made. That was the only way she would survive.

"Must. Make. It. To. The. Kitchen." She muttered to herself, taking baby steps and dragging her massive comforter along for the infected ride. As she made it into the kitchen (which wasn't as far as you might be thinking, but sickness and lack of sleep makes everything seem farther) she practically threw herself against the counter out of happiness, but also because she needed something solid to lean against.

Once the tea was made, Molly Started to go back to her room, carefully balancing the mug. She gingerly climbed back into bed, and let out a sigh of contentment.

"All snuggled up free from work, and no one to bother me-" she had attempted to finish her thought, but had been interrupted by her phone buzzing crazily. She scooped it up from her bedside table, and saw 15 texts from Sherlock.

"That man!" She grumbled, scrolling through the texts.

Molly-SH

Molly hooper-SH

Molly where are you-SH

There's some weird lady who smells like biscuits here-SH

She keeps bustling about and smiling-SH

It's awful-SH

John loves her of course-SH

Molly, I know for a fact that you haven't missed work for at least 3 years.-SH

Where are you?!?!?-SH

By the looks of this lady, she won't give me any legs. I'm running out of legs Molly.-SH

Please come back-SH

Are you at your flat?-SH

Ok, I'm coming to you-SH

Don't tell john-SH

You really need to change the place where you hide your spare key Molly. Under a stone, really?-SH

Molly suddenly heard the door to her flat open, and she could already smell the nicotine and old book scent that always clung to Sherlock before he had even fully entered the flat.

"Molly?", he yelled, his baritone voice that was usually so soothing making her head scream.

"In here", she scratched out. Her throat was on fire too, and she was sure she wouldn't have her proper voice back for at least a week.

"Oh, you're in here." Sherlock said, pushing her door open further. She could see him deducing around the room, skimming over her for a moment, until his eyes shot back to hers.

"What the devil are you sick with then? What virus could take down Molly hooper?" He said, seemingly shaken by the fact that she looked so ill.

"I have no idea.", she said, struggling to make her hair look a little better. Then she realized that she didn't care. She was sick, who said her hair had to be all in place?

"Well. Um. I just came by to uh, um..... Is that a romance novel?"

"What?" Molly said, startled

"You're reading a romance novel aren't you? Honestly Molly they're all the same, even someone like you could see that."

"Excuse me?"

"Did I say something wrong?" The consulting detective didn't seem to find anything wrong with insulting the novel that had gotten her through many a breakup. Molly tried to shoot the tall intruder with her best glare, but she was sure it only looked like she had to sneeze. Which she did, but that's beside the point.

"Look Sherlock. I have a killer headache. My throat is on fire. Would you please just leave unless you're going to offer to shoot me?"

The detective looked shocked by Molly's outburst.

"Well, um, I, uh." He stumbled over his words.

"Spit it out!"

"I know a fantastic recipe for soup." Sherlock rushed through the confession.

Molly was taken aback by this news.

"Well. That's nice, but I don't see how it could help me-"

"Oh for goodness sake Molly! Are you always this thick? I'll make you the soup, then you can go back to work at the morgue and give me more miscellaneous body parts."

And with that, a Sherlock stood up and practically ran to the kitchen. Molly could hear him bustling about, and she suddenly felt a heat in her cheeks that had nothing to do with her fever.

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Wow guys so I haven't been writing for awhile sorry :/ I have valid excuses but you don't want to hear them. Anywhooooo a lot of you read my other Sherlolly fanfic. THANK YOU SO MUCH. So I wrote this one. I haven't edited it very well yet, so I apologize. I wrote most of this when I was actually sick, then finished it at 1:30 AM. So yeah. It didn't really end up how I had originally planned, and idk how much it sucks. Let me know though. Yeah. I love you guys so much! Let me know if you want other sherlolly stories :)