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Sherlock woke Sunday morning to sunshine lighting Molly’s bedroom. A quick glance told him she was asleep still, wrapped in his arms, tangled among the bed sheets. He smiled as his hand stroked Molly’s back, snippets of their weekend together flitting through his mind. It was a soft yawn that shook him from his reverie.
“Good morning,” he murmured.
“Morning,” she replied, her cheerful voice thick with sleep, but sunny nonetheless. Sherlock released her long enough for her to squirm to face him before recapturing her. He felt his heart flutter as he watched her stretch within his arms.
“Sleeping alone tonight will be awful,” Sherlock murmured.
Molly said nothing; instead she wiggled closer to press her lips to Sherlock’s neck.
They lay together in silence for some time until they were interrupted by the ringing of a telephone downstairs. Molly sighed and rushed from the room. Sherlock slowly began the process of getting up in Molly’s absence, grinning as he spotted several small bruises on his chest. He hadn’t properly looked in a mirror over the last few days, but he was sure his neck was in a similar state.
When Molly returned to her room she slipped into a dressing gown and spoke, “That was my mum. They’re leaving now. Should be home in an hour or so…”
Sherlock hummed, pulling on his t-shirt.
“Don’t you want to take a shower?”
“Can’t,” he replied, “I have just over an hour to get a few things ready and then I’m picking you up for a date.’
“A date?”
“That is… If you are agreeable, I’d like to take you on a date. For lunch. And if I leave now we can both get ready without distraction, and I can pick you up after you’ve seen your family.”
He looked at Molly expectantly until she nodded, “All right, sure. I’ll see you soon, then.”
Sherlock grinned at the happy expression pulling across Molly’s features, “Soon,” he returned, moving to leave the room. He pressed a gentle kiss to Molly’s lips and quickly left.
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Freshly showered and clothed Sherlock rushed about the kitchen while attempting to put together a lunch for himself and Molly. He had laid several things on the kitchen island and stared uncomprehendingly.
“Ah! Sherlock! How was the museum?” his father’s voice rang from behind him.
“Excellent,” Sherlock replied, “Very stimulating.”
“And I suppose those bruises are from bed bugs in the hostel linens? Their bites are quite itchy, aren't they?”
Sherlock glanced up at his father and tugged his collar higher, “Yes.”
His father shook his head, a smirk on his face, “Why do you need all that food? What are you doing?”
“I’m conducting an experiment.
“Sherlock.”
He sighed, “Fine, I’m making a picnic lunch for myself and Molly Hooper. Or, rather, I’m trying to.”
“She’s not tired of looking at you?”
Sherlock glowered before getting back to his ingredients.
“Here,” his father said, grouping everything together, “Sandwich; wash these grapes and take them along, and take some berries. There are bottles of water in the refrigerator you can take.”
Sherlock nodded and muttered ‘Thanks’ as he set to work making sandwiches. His father clapped him on the shoulder as he moved through the kitchen.
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When Sherlock arrived at Molly’s door she greeted him as quickly as she had Friday night. Sherlock heard himself gasp as he saw her, a flowing yellow sundress covered her body, her hair was loose but for a headband with a floral bow. She looked radiant.
She called her ‘goodbye’ to her parents and skipped lightly from the single step and onto the path. Sherlock felt an overwhelming need to anchor her to him, to keep her close. He kissed her gently; a single, soft kiss to her sweet lips. When he pulled away, her eyes were fluttering open. Sherlock’s hand skimmed down her arm and clasped with hers and they began their walk.
He took Molly to the park, holding her hand all the while, only separating to lay a blanket between two flower beds and to pull their food from this bag. When they each had their food in hand, Sherlock’s free hand sought Molly’s again.
“My parents know,” Sherlock said at length.
“You mean now you know that they know,” Molly teased. Sherlock grinned and pulled her hand to his mouth, pressing a kiss to her knuckle.
“Mine probably know, too. My mum went in my room when I was in the shower. I hadn’t put the sheets in the wash, so I imagine the smell was rather potent.”
Sherlock snorted in laughter as Molly grinned, “You’d better hope she doesn’t rummage through your rubbish bin. There are… Several used condoms wrapped in tissue buried in there.”
They laughed together, hands clasped, and enjoying the company of one another on their first official date.