Chapter Text
The sudden pounding on her door shocked her out of the movie she was watching. Looking up with a frown, she stared at the offending door waiting.
The pounding sounded once more. Toby’s head lifted from her lap where he’d been resting, green eyes staring at the door also. Her hand automatically drifted towards his head, stroking the fur soothingly before climbing to her feet.
Toby let out a plaintive yowl, a discontented announcement that he was not happy that his pillow had moved.
Ignoring the complaints, she approached the door, tugging her ratty dressing gown closer to her.
The third pounding caused her to rush to the door finally, reaching it and placing her hand on the knob.
“I can hear your footsteps. Let me in.” The voice on the other side was as familiar to her as her own voice. Slipping the chain and unlatching the door, she opened it and hurriedly stepped to the side to allow Sherlock to stride in.
“What in the…”
He was covered with soot, having at least the common courtesy to take off his shoes in the hallway before stepping into her flat. Soot and…was that grease?
“Bad day, was it?” she asked, the corner of her mouth quirking up. The quick exasperated glance towards her told that he was not in the mood for jokes.
He began to slip off his greatcoat.
“I need-“
“No!” she shouted. He halted in the middle of taking off his coat and looked at her, his eyes showing confusion and a bit of hurt. “You are not to take that off in here. Not on my rugs, I just cleaned them!”
The expression in his eyes faded back to annoyance which he followed with an exasperated huff. She waved him towards the bathroom at the end of the hall.
“In there. Take everything off in there where I can sweep up after you’re finished.” She didn’t even blush at her demand that he strip. She didn’t have the time, more worried about particulates on her rugs. She’d remember later and be horrified at her words.
“I have some clothing you can wear instead, things you’ve left over from previous stays.”
She followed him down the hallway, stopping right outside the bathroom. “There are fresh towels on the stand. I’ll bring a bag to shove your clothing in until I can clean them.”
Obediently, he followed her instructions as she spoke, even though by his expression it would seem to anyone else he wasn’t listening to a word she said. He paused a moment once inside the bathroom, letting her finish her instructions before closing the door, his back still to her, his attention focused on pulling his shirt off.
She wandered back towards the guest room, where she kept some of the supplies he’d left here for times he used her place as a bolt hole. She didn’t mind, not really. He needed a place and she was happy to share it with him. Maybe not the giving up of her bedroom but it was fine.
Picking out a pair of track pants and a tee shirt, she wandered back towards the bathroom door. She stared at it, biting her lip. Should she knock or just leave them outside? She couldn’t hear any noise and the water hadn’t turned on yet.
As if to answer her question, the door opened, just enough for Sherlock to lean out, bare-chested from behind it.
Molly’s eyes widened, her cheeks pinking. He plucked the clothing from her hands with a cocky grin.
“The bag Molly?” he asked, watching her.
“The…oh, right. Sorry.”
“Molly?” He called as she turned away to go to the kitchen. She turned back curiously.
“You need something else?” she asked.
The grin turned soft for a moment and those eyes locked on to hers.
“Thank you.” He said simply, before shutting the door.
She blinked. And then smiled.
He really did appreciate her. Just because he never said the words, hardly said thank you, he told her in different ways. She could be content.