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Sally was fuming. There was no better word for it than fuming. Molly had skipped out on yet another date to work a case with Holmes. Oh, she knew she didn't fancy him anymore. Molly had said that was over, long over, and that it was her she liked now, fancied more than anyone else, but it had stung to be passed over for the prat yet again. It had been what her life had been about for so long and now, with the DI position and Molly as her girlfriend and her finally being happy, she thought she'd been past that.
But no. No, of course not. And oh, she'd let Molly have it over the phone and then hung up on her. So yes, she was fuming, but she was also quite sad. This was their first real fight and it was all over Sherlock bloody Holmes.
Typical.
She heard the door open and looked up in surprise, the first thing catching her eye being the bouquet of yellow daffodils being held in Molly's hand, and the second being that Molly was dressed up for a date. Sally looked at her in bewilderment. “Your case...” she said.
“You're more important and I told Sherlock so, so John and Mary arranged for a sitter and they're accompanying him while I take my girlfriend out on the date I promised her,” Molly said, moving forward to give Sally her favourite flowers. “Do we still have a reservation?”
Sally shook her head, taking the flowers, a small smile edging on her face. “I canceled it, but I'm sure we can come up with something.” She looked up at Molly, who had a relieved smile on her face, and her own grew wider. Perhaps things would be all right after all…