Notes: This particular fic was written for all my lovely fellow Sherlolly shippers on tumblr! It was inspired by a .gif set of BC saying if he wasn't an actor he'd be a tree surgeon and, of course, Loo Brealey's twitter saga of #hotmaninatree. It was just too perfect.

Disclaimer: Nothing you see here belongs to me. Darn.

Yawning, Molly padded into her kitchen slowly. It'd been a late shift, made even later when Sherlock came into the lab and asked for her help with some experiments. Someday, she'd learn to say no to him. But last night was definitely not someday. She hadn't felt that tired when he first came in, but by the time he finally left, she felt like she was nearly dead on her feet. The second that her head had hit her pillow last night (very early this morning if she was being honest with herself), she had been out like a light.

She started to go about brewing her morning coffee when something moving outside her window happened to catch her eye. Mostly because not a whole lot of things moved outside her window, since she lived on the third floor. One of her neighbors seemed to be having some work done on their tree…and the man doing the work was incredibly attractive.

The man outside her window moved effortlessly through the branches, hacking away the dead limbs with something almost resembling a machete. She sighed softly and tilted her head, before turning to her coffee and quickly fixing herself a cup. She set it down on the table and then quickly grabbed her laptop from the counter and took a seat at her kitchen table that just happened to have a perfect view out her window.

Glancing down at her computer for long enough to turn it on and then log into her blog, she then turned her full attention back out her window and began typing her latest entry.

You-know-who came in last night ( I should really come up with a better name for him, it sounds like I'm infatuated with Voldemort!) and I was up late to help him. I know that I shouldn't just bend to his whim the way I do, but I can't help it. Love makes you do some silly things, I suppose. I'm so glad that I have the day off today! And something is happening right now that is making my morning even better – there's an attractive man up in my neighbor's tree and I have a perfect view of him from my kitchen! Haha, oh that sounds so sad, that some stranger in a tree is making my morning better. But he is.

Suddenly the man, who Molly had dubbed in her head "Hot Man in a Tree," was swinging from branch to branch like some sort of jungle man. Molly's mug paused halfway to her mouth and she caught herself just staring.

He turned his head suddenly, like he could feel her gaze on him and locked eyes with her. Molly squeaked and promptly slammed her mug down on the table, causing it to splash all over. She immediately started blushing and she could tell that he was laughing at her. Something about him seemed familiar, but he wasn't close enough for her to tell what it was – and she wasn't wearing her glasses or her contacts yet.

She turned back to her computer, ducking behind the screen slightly to escape the stranger's mirth. She kept on typing.

Oh god, he just saw me staring at him and started laughing at me. I can't believe it. I used to be able to function around men! At first it was just him but now it seems to be extending even to strangers in trees!

She peeked above her screen and noticed that he had gone back to work. And he was now wielding a chainsaw. Letting herself ogle him unabashedly, Molly reached over and grabbed a few napkins and started to clean up the mess she had made of her coffee.

Suddenly, he reached up and pulled off the hoodie he'd been wearing and threw it to the ground. Molly gulped and all her movement stilled as his long limbs stretched out and then as he got back to work. Oh yes, this was definitely a nice way to start her morning.

The man was wearing a plain black t-shirt and his arms had the same sort of wiry strength that well…that she'd always guessed that Sherlock's had. In fact…

She peered out the window, but he was too far away. She didn't want to go grab her glasses in case she missed him leaving! But he somehow reminded her oddly of Sherlock. Shaking her head, she was about to begin typing but noticed that he seemed to be finishing up.

Oh no! He's leaving. I think I'll be brave and go ask him for coffee. Hopefully it'll go better than it did with you-know-who! Wish me luck!

She quickly pressed 'post' and ran to the door, completely forgetting about the fact that she was just in her slippers, pajamas, and dressing gown.

She made it out onto the street just as the man had finished climbing down the tree. Jogging over to him, she wracked her brain for something to say. "Uh, hi! I was just wondering if uh…if you had another job right now? I wanted to talk to you about a tree in my yard and…" she trailed off as "Hot Man in a Tree" turned to her.

Oh no, she thought to herself. No it couldn't be.

But it was. Sherlock Holmes was the man standing before her, all done up for some reason, as a tree surgeon. She'd been drooling over Sherlock all along!

He quickly looked her up and down and then quirked an eyebrow at her as she continued to gape at him like a fish. Her eyes closed and her hands flew to her face instinctively as she realized that Sherlock was giving her that look because she'd run out onto the street in her pajamas. To ask out a hot man in a tree who turned out to be Sherlock Holmes. She wished to whatever higher power that was listening to just be swallowed up by the pavement.

"I highly doubt that you actually want my expertise on trees, Molly, especially since the trees in your building's yard aren't actually your responsibility to take care of. Exactly how were you planning to play that one out?" Sherlock asked her, partly teasing and partly genuinely curious.

Molly groaned and slid her hands from her face, wondering if she could just flee back to her flat without any consequences. She cautiously looked up to meet his gaze. "I didn't quite think it through."

He chuckled. "Obviously."

She glared at him and wrapped her dressing gown around her tighter. "What were you doing up in my neighbor's tree?"

Shrugging, Sherlock turned to gather his equipment. She didn't want to think about why he had a tree surgeon's equipment. "Reviving their tree. And if their tree just happens to have a perfect view into a flat that I'm watching for a case – not yours, obviously," he told her before she could even ask, "well…that is just a bonus," he concluded with a sly smirk on his face.

Molly couldn't help but chuckle at him. He seemed to be in a fairly good mood this morning; he'd obviously gotten the information he wanted on the other flat. Otherwise he'd be a bear – she'd seen him when things didn't go his way and it was not pretty. "Well, are you going to ask me up to your flat for coffee? That was your intention rushing down here in your pajamas, was it not?"

She groaned quietly as her blush returned with a vengeance. "I didn't know it was you, Sherlock," she insisted.

He picked up his things and looked at her condescendingly. "Well obviously, Molly. You don't have your glasses on or your contacts in. There's no way that you could make out my features from your flat. Now, for that coffee," he said, as he started to walk in the direction of her building.

Molly rolled her eyes as she rushed after him. "I can't believe you sometimes," she muttered.

She looked up at him and was rewarded by a fond smirk, the closest to a true smile that she'd ever seen from Sherlock.

They got up to her flat and Sherlock unceremoniously dumped all his things at her front door. Molly brushed past him and moved into her kitchen, not wanting to watch him deduce her flat. He followed her slowly and sat down at her table, reaching over to grab her laptop. "Need to email, Lestrade."

Molly was about to sputter some reply about personal boundaries or asking, but stopped when she noticed that Sherlock seemed to be reading whatever was on her screen. She paled as she realized he was obviously reading her blog entry.

"Oh god, I'm sorry, Sherlock!" she quickly said, turning around to begin fixing him a cup of coffee, anything to distract herself from the fact that Sherlock had just read her blog. And she paled even further when she remembered exactly what she had written. Infatuated, love makes you do some silly things… "I promise, no one…no one actually reads my blog. It's like, like a diary. You shouldn't…oh god."

Her shoulders slumped and she leaned against the counter, imploring herself silently to keep it together, to not start crying with Sherlock Holmes in her flat. Maybe he'd be obtuse again and not even realize that the blog entry was about him…

She let out a bitter laugh at that thought. Maybe he'd take pity on her then and realize that if he broke her heart now, maybe she wouldn't be so amenable to his requests in the lab. That was much more likely. She heard his chair scrape against her floor and expected to hear the door open and close next. But, much to her surprise, she heard him come close to her, until he was standing right behind her.

"Molly, please look at me," he said seriously. Molly bit her lip and gathered what little of her strength remained and turned to him. The corners of his lips quirked up in an almost smile and Molly steeled herself for the worst. She was sure that some scathing remark about how she was being stupid and how he could never be interested in someone so ordinary was imminent.

She was jolted out of her thoughts when Sherlock's hand suddenly landed on her shoulder. He looked a bit uncertain, which was definitely an expression that she had never seen on his face before. "It's all right. It's…your blog. You can write about whatever you like."

It wasn't quite what she was expecting but it was somehow ok. He squeezed her shoulder awkwardly and then dropped his hand from her shoulder, reaching behind her for his cup of coffee and turning back to the table. He opened a new window on her laptop and logged into his email and started a new message to Lestrade.

Molly took a deep breath and fixed herself another cup of coffee and sat down across from Sherlock. She asked him about his case and he told her as much as he could. He got a text from someone, she was assuming Lestrade, and he abruptly got up. Gathering up his things, he turned to her again, since she had followed him to her door. "Thank you for the coffee, Molly," he murmured, kissing her forehead lightly. Molly was frozen in shock.

And then he was gone.

Molly's face immediately brightened and she felt a huge grin stretching across her face. The morning hadn't quite turned out the way that she expected, but she'd definitely take what she could get. She laughed to herself and shook her head. "Hot man in a tree," she whispered to herself, giggling and feeling absolutely ridiculous.