Baker Street Bedroom (Sherlolly One-Shot)

Baker Street Bedroom

"Mollyyyyyyy" a loud, whiny groan emits from Sherlock's bedroom.

"Yes, Sherlock, what is it /darling/?" Molly comes in and says, a bit irritated with his incessant demands.

"I need some more tissues and I think I'm gonna throw up again."

Molly rubs the bridge of her nose. "Okay. I'll go get you some. Use the bowl I gave you if you think you're going to get sick, remember? Then I'll wash it out."

"Mhh...I forgot. Okay." He sniffles and groans and Molly leaves the room to grab another box of tissues. Hell, she loved the man to death, but he is acting like the flu is the end of him. Out of everything he's been through and it's the flu that he can't handle. Molly returns with the tissues and Sherlock wretches into the big bowl. She goes over and soothingly rubs his back. "I'm sorry...I know this sucks."

"Ughhh...I don't GET sick, Molly. I can't even remember the last time I was sick. This isn't right."

"Sherlock, contrary to popular belief, you are human and not invincible. The flu happens to anyone. Even the great Sherlock Holmes. The whiniest, most incessant baby in the world when he's sick. Believe me, I HOPE you never get sick again after this."

"Heyy!"

Molly chuckles and hands him the tissues. "I'm going to wash this out. Are you okay, or are you going to vomit again?"

"I-I'm okay for now" he murmurs as he settles deep under his blankets and nuzzles his pillow.

She nods and cleans out the puke bowl, sighing a bit. This was the first weekend that they were going to spend together case-free. It still is, but definitely not the way Molly imagined. Molly returns to the room and places the bowl on his night-table. Loud snores come from the heap of blankets that conceal the tall but tired form of her crazy man. Sighing, she strokes his damp curls then grabs the thermometer and takes his temperature again. Still a high fever. Molly feels a bit guilty, realizing how terrible he must actually feel. Slipping into the other side of the bed, she decides to take a nap as well, since he will need her when he awakes.

~~~~~~~

Molly stirs, feeling a warm hand brushing hair from her face. She opens her eyes slowly and her gaze is met with Sherlock's. God how she loved his eyes. "Mm, hey you. How're you feeling?"

Sherlock strokes her cheek. "Slightly better. I just...I want to thank you. You didn't have to be here with me all weekend like this. I know I'm a little bit of a baby. You helped me a lot, and honestly it felt nice just knowing you were here."

She smiles softly and places her hand over the one that is on her cheek. "I'm glad I helped. I do love you, Sherlock. Obviously, this isn't what I was expecting this weekend, but I want you to get better. I hate seeing you like this."

"Molly, I'll make it up to you. I promise. I know this was unexpected, and I love you too. I want to make you happy. The next weekend you are free, I won't take any cases."

"That sounds nice." Molly nods and gently cuddles into him.

"I don't want to get you sick..."

"I've already gotten it this year; it just wasn't as bad as you have it. I think I'll be okay, plus, I don't care I miss your hugs and cuddles."

Sherlock blushes and wraps his arms around her, stroking her hair. "I adore you, Molly Hooper."

"I adore you too Sherlock Holmes. I'll hold you to that weekend."

"I fully expect nothing less, Doctor Hooper."

~~~~~~~

A few weekends later Sherlock and Molly had planned their make-up weekend together. They stay the night at Molly's place on Saturday, cuddled up with Toby and her pastel colored blankets. The next night it was Baker Street's turn. Sherlock brings Molly for breakfast at Speedy's, and Mrs. Hudson greets them both with a wide, knowing grin.