This little bit of fun was inspired by this headcanon I sent to WeLoveSherlolly/Asphodelheart on tumblr:

"When Molly discovers that Sherlock has a thing for bees she decides to slowly incorporate that into her wardrobe. It starts off simply, little bee earrings, a little bee necklace ... Sherlock notices (of course) but says nothing. Then she progresses to bee socks, bee shoes, even a bee jumper. Still no response from the consulting detective. That is until there is a costume party at Bart's (that John forces him to go to). Molly arrives in a bee costume and that's the final straw. Sherlock sees Molly in the bee costume and can take it no longer. He grabs her hand and ushers her back to Baker Street where they proceed to spend the night "buzzing" about the flat."

Flight of the Bumblebee

Day One

Sherlock was sat at his microscope muttering to himself. Molly, being used to this, just ignored him and continued with her work in the lab.

"Bees. Of course!" he suddenly exclaimed.

"Hmm? What?" she asked. She had been reading over an autopsy form that had been improperly filled out by an intern, thus having not heard what he said.

"Bees, Molly! Bees!" He jumped to his feet and rapidly pulled on his coat before donning his scarf. "Bees! How perfectly obvious!"

The man was exuberant, like a child upon Christmas morning. Molly watched him with an amused eye as he took out his phone and quickly began tapping away, a wide grin upon his face. Then without another word he strode from the lab. She stared at the space he had been previously occupying for a moment, then shook her head and returned to her work.

Day Two

Molly was busy with conducting an autopsy on a forty-three year old man. The cause of death was quite obvious; anaphylactic shock. His entire face was swollen, making him unrecognizable. She was merely checking to make sure that there weren't any other possible causes, such as a weakened heart or a failing kidney. Just as she was finishing sewing up the body the morgue doors swung open and in strode the Consulting Detective; he was pouting.

"Molly! How could you not inform me of this body?" he chided as he strode forward. "You always text me when there is an interesting arrival!"

She looked at him for a moment. "Yes, I do. But there's really not anything interesting about this one. His cause of death isn't a mystery! He died of multiple bee stings." She snapped off her gloves and tossed them into the nearby bin.

"Exactly! Bee stings! Bees!"

She turned about and looked at him once more. "Yeah. Bees," she wondered slowly, her eyes narrowing.

He bounced on the balls of his feet, while he looked over the man's swollen face. "Isn't it fascinating what a little bit of venom can do to a human?"

She raised an eyebrow. "I wouldn't exactly say a little bit, it's clear that he was stung by a large number of bees, possibly an entire hive."

Sherlock hummed to himself. "I see that he was only stung on the face and hands."

"Yes. When he was brought in he was wearing jeans and a turtleneck. He must have tried to cover his face from the attack, hence the reason for why his hands were stung," she surmised.

Sherlock continued to hum, a slight smile upon his lips.

"So … you like bees?" she inquired.

He straightened; having taken in all that there was to see. "Oh yes! I am entirely fascinated by them. I plan to have a few hives of my own some day, out in the country. They are intelligent creatures."

Molly held back the urge to laugh, not quite being able to picture him living away from the city, tending to bees. The man could barely handle going a single day without an intriguing case!

After a final glance at the body he turned to her. "Thank you Molly," he said, before exiting the morgue.

A smile slowly bloomed upon her face as an idea formed in her mind.

Day Three

It was Molly's day off, and she had quite a long list of things she needed to do around her flat, but first things first she had to do some shopping; online shopping. With a little giggle she opened up Amazon . co .uk and typed 'bee' in the search. Within an hour she had nine items in her shopping cart. Once she had made her purchases – silently thanking the glorious feature of two-day free-shipping with Prime – she danced an excited little jig. Toby eyed her with a quizzical glare as she continued to giggle to herself.

Day Four

Sherlock was in a mood. John had given Molly an apologetic look when they entered the lab after Sherlock had instantly started barking out orders.

"Experiment went awry," John muttered to her as explanation. "And Lestrade hasn't had any good cases for him. He's been in a strop all morning. I tried to stop him from coming here … didn't work." His eyes widened to a near-comical size when Sherlock suddenly spun about and fixed upon him an angry glare.

Before he could say anything Molly spoke up, "Sherlock! I believe your mold cultures are ready." She gave him a warm smile.

A look of glee came upon his face. "Perfect!"

"Oh, and I may have a few thumbs for you tomorrow," she quickly added.

"Good! Bring them over after your shift."

"All right."

A few minutes passed in silence. John had left to grab something to eat in the canteen, leaving them alone.

"Sherlock?"

"Mmm?" He was looking at one of the slides of mold cultures through the microscope.

"Have you, have you ever heard the phrase 'the bee's knees' by any chance?"

He sniffed. "I am ashamed to admit that I have."

"It is a silly phrase."

"Yes."

"Bee's don't actually have knees, do they?" she questioned.

He humphed. "They absolutely do not."

"Ok. Just curious."

John returned a short time later, only to be swept out of the lab when Sherlock received a text from Lestrade about a case that was a promising seven.

Day Five

Molly couldn't keep the smile from her face as she put on the little bee earrings she had bought, before clasping the slightly larger bee necklace about her neck. She had decided to dress simply for the day, in order to allow her new jewelry to stand out a bit more. Toby gave her another annoyed glare as she laughed softly to herself. She placed a kiss upon his head before exiting her flat.

Her work day moved slowly, but eventually the time for her to leave at last arrived. She placed the thumbs into a cold storage container and made her way to Baker Street. As she sat in the cab she idly played with the necklace, suddenly fearful of what Sherlock's reaction would be. Would he mock her? Scoff at the inaccuracies? Or would he simply not notice them?

The closer she got to her destination the more her worries grew. By the time she arrived she was very near making the decision to remove both earrings and necklace and toss them into the nearest skip. But she managed to prevail; she was determined to see this through, come what may.

She quickly made her way up the stairs to 221B. When she entered the flat she saw that Sherlock was sat in his chair, his laptop on his knees. He looked up when she walked in.

"Ahh Molly, perfect timing." He closed his laptop and placed it on the floor before jumping to his feet and striding over to her. "How many thumbs?" he asked her as he greedily eyed the container she was holding.

"Three."

He frowned slightly.

"Sorry, that was all I could manage to take without it looking suspicious! You're lucky that I bring you anything at all!"

He glanced up at her, a retort on his lips that quickly died away. Molly was certain he had noticed the earrings and necklace. His eyes eyelashes had fluttered! But he didn't say a word. Of course he wouldn't. A short while later she left the flat with a slightly sinking heart.

Day Six

Molly was feeling rather tired, and quite a bit hungry. She had worked straight through her lunch hour that day. Just as she was about to get up to order some take away there was a knock on her door. When she opened it she wasn't entirely surprised to find Sherlock standing there.

"Mrs. Hudson is cleaning," he announced with a sneer.

With a chuckle Molly opened her door wider and he stepped inside. "Interested in some Chinese? I was just about to order."

After removing his coat and scarf he stretched himself out upon her sofa. "Only if you're getting it from the one that makes the steamed dumplings," he responded.

"Of course! They're the only place I ever get Chinese from."

"Good."

The food was ordered, and shortly after delivered. Sherlock sat up so that Molly could settle herself down onto the sofa beside him.

"Want to watch a movie?" she asked him between bites of dumpling.

"None of that pathetic romance drivel," he groused.

"Nope. I was thinking Pirates of the Caribbean?"

He blinked at her before swallowing. "All right."

A half hour into the movie Sherlock had forgotten about his food, entirely transfixed by the film. Molly had expected him to complain about the discrepancies of the story, but he had kept surprisingly mum.

"I'm a feeling bit chilly. I'm just going to go put something else on," Molly announced suddenly, as she got up from the sofa.

Sherlock didn't look up, his eyes glued to the telly. She held in a snort, not in the least bit surprised that he would be drawn into a movie about pirates! A few minutes later she returned to the sofa, now bedecked in a cozy grey jumper and a pair of bright yellow socks. She was certain he wasn't going to be able ignore these; the jumper had a giant bee on it with the words 'BEE POSITIVE!' written above it in large letters, and the socks were covered in honeycomb shaped dots, and a smattering of bees.

But ignored them he did. When the movie ended and he turned to ask her if there were any more his gaze drifted downwards only to quickly move back up to her face. He then proceeded to make a fast exit, mumbling about the possibility of Mrs. Hudson throwing away his experiments. Molly couldn't help but think that that was a lame excuse.

Day Seven

"You're wearing a skirt."

Molly stopped walking, annoyed by the fact that she hadn't noticed Sherlock when she had first entered the lab. "Yes. Excellent deduction. What of it?"

"You don't wear them often. You must have a date."

John was giving him a warning glance, but he chose to ignore it.

She let out a slight sniff. "I do not. I was attending a lecture this morning. I wanted to look nice. "

He hummed. With a roll of her eyes Molly strode passed him and John, and picked up her clipboard. Sherlock continued to look her over.

"Of course you're not going on a date. You would be wearing heels. You always wear heels when going out in an attempt to look taller, which is really quite foolish because as soon as the heels are off the illusion comes to an end."

"SHERLOCK!" John snapped.

Molly spun about, daring him to continue. And he did, the man never backed down from a dare.

"The shoes you have chosen to wear are new. Must have decided to treat yourself."

She smiled slightly, thinking she had got him at last. "Yes. They are new. What do you think of them?"

John looked from one to the other, an expression of bewilderment upon his face.

Sherlock stared down at the yellow and striped flats that were upon Molly's feet. He blinked rapidly several times. "They're adequate. But I wouldn't wear them for long periods of time, there's no support in them."

Before anything could be said by anyone else Lestrade walked in and announced that a body was being brought in to the morgue.

Day Eight

Sherlock strode confidently down the hall. His eyes lit up when he saw Molly step out of the morgue, just the person he wanted to see! But he came to a halt when he noticed her blouse. Her blouse that was covered in an array of bees! Damn the woman. He cleared his throat, forcing his eyes to stay at head level. "Molly I—"

"Sorry Sherlock, not today. I'm teaching interns, you're experiments will have to wait for another time," and with that stated she strode passed him.

"But—" he sputtered, not used to being turned down so easily.

Day Nine

"You're going and that's final!" John declared as both he and Sherlock walked into the lab.

Sherlock look positively miffed. With a quick flourish he had removed both coat and scarf, tossing them onto a nearby chair before practically stomping over to his favourite microscope.

"What's got him in such a tizzy?" Molly asked quietly.

John rolled his eyes. "The Bart's Costume party tomorrow, he got an invitation. I told him that as a patron of the hospital he's required to at least make an appearance."

Molly hid her smile with the palm of her hand. A few minutes later she walked over to him, shifting her lab coat so that the bee pin she was wearing was in view. "So you're coming to the party tomorrow?"

He grunted. "It appears so. Horrific idea, what idiot came up with such a juvenile concept to have adults dress in costumes? I will not be partaking in that aspect of the party."

"Oh … I don't know; why not dress as a pirate? You might have fun. Can you guess what I'm going to wear?"

He rolled his eyes. "Probably something horribly banal, Little Bo Peep perhaps?"

She chuckled. "Not even close!"

His eyes narrowed.

"You'll just have to come to the party to see!" She flounced away, leaving him looking rather disgruntled.

Day Ten

Molly knew that she looked ridiculous, but she honestly couldn't care less. None of the other costumes were remotely close to what a bee looked like. Since when did bees have tutus and low cut tops? And even though the costume she had chosen didn't exactly fall in the accuracy category it was most certainly the smarter choice. She had tried being sexy once, to get Sherlock's attention, and that had failed miserably. Perhaps the opposite of sexy would work instead.

With a determined grin she straightened the fabric, slipped on her shoes and strode out of her flat. Oh the looks she knew that she was going to get! And she could only hope that there weren't going to be any cabs that would refuse to take her.

Twenty minutes later she successfully arrived at St. Bart's. Yes the cab driver had given her a bit of an odd look, but he didn't say anything, willing to take her as long as she paid! As she approached the doors to the hospital the sudden realization of what she was about to do, fully hit her.

She had never been one for wanting to draw attention to herself. She often tried her hardest to not stand out. And right now, she was most likely going to stand out a lot. She was certain she was going to be the only bee in the building. She let out a soft snort at the thought then took a deep breath before walking inside.

Music was playing loudly as she walked into the large conference room where the party was taking place. There were colourful lights all around, and even a disco ball hanging above the dance floor. Copious amounts of food and drink were covering several tables. The room was filled with people in a various array of costumes. Some were rather high quality, other's not so much.

She looked about her, trying to spot a familiar head of dark curls with no such luck. She did manage to spot her best friend Meena, who had dressed up as Greek goddess and looked nothing but glorious. Molly briefly envied her her pretty costume.

"Oh look at you! Don't you look cute?" Meena exclaimed loudly as she pulled her in for a hug.

"Thanks, you look beautiful! Have you seen John or Mary?"

Meena nodded. "Yeah, they're over in the corner." She pointed to the couple, who were sat in two chairs. "Mary needed to sit down for a bit. Poor woman, she's getting close to her due date isn't she?"

"Mmmhmm! She has about three more weeks left. I'm going to go say hello," Molly answered, right before Meena's boyfriend came up behind Meena and pulled her onto the dance floor. Molly watched them briefly for a few moments, giggling as the couple danced entirely out of beat to the music. She then made her way towards John and Mary. "Hello!" she chirped.

Mary smiled up at her, as she rubbed her hand across her stomach. She was wearing a black t-shirt with a skeletal image of her spine and rib cage on it, and below that, directly placed on her belly was a skeleton of a baby. Molly couldn't help but admire the ingenuity of it.

"Cute costume Molly, love the antennae," John said to her.

"Thanks, it's rather silly, but I like it. Where's Sherlock? He didn't sneak out already did he?"

John snorted. "No. He did try to though. He's over there, probably trying to deduce if there is any alcohol in the punch."

Molly followed where John was pointing, and saw Sherlock scowling at the assortment of food and drinks. Her eyes widened in shock. He had dressed up, and as a pirate no less! She bit back a laugh, rather intrigued by the sight of him dressed as a swashbuckler; quite a dashing swashbuckler. She made her way towards him. "The punch isn't spiked. No one would dare, not after last year's Christmas party," she quipped.

He turned his annoyed gaze upon her, only for his eyes to widen in shock as he took in the sight of her. He stood dumbfounded, his mouth hanging slightly open. Molly stared up at him, beginning to become slightly concerned when he didn't speak or blink for at least a minute. She wasn't even sure if he was breathing.

"Uhm, yeah … John was right, that is a bit scary. Sherlock? You need to take in some oxygen before you pass out."

His eyes blinked rapidly as he took in a great rush of breath. A loud squeak escaped Molly as he suddenly grabbed her about the waist and crushed her against him, kissing her deeply.

For a few seconds she didn't respond, but then her mind finally kicked into gear. 'Sherlock Holmes is kissing you, you idiot! Kiss him back!' it screamed at her. She did so, bringing her hands up to cup his face as she slid the tip of her tongue across the seam of his lips.

One of them moaned, neither one of them knowing who was to blame. They didn't want to break apart, but they had to in order to catch their breath. Sherlock was still holding her tightly about the waist, his forehead leaning against hers.

"You are an absolute minx, Molly Hooper." He dipped his head to the side, mouthing at her jaw line before he moved his lips over her ear. His voice dropped to a deep timbre as he disclosed, "I've noticed every single bee item that you've been wearing these passed ten days … and I've wanted to ravage you every single time. I've been able to hold myself back -" He brought his head back up so that he could look directly into her eyes. "But I cannot do so any longer. Come with me to Baker Street. Now?"

Words couldn't form in her mind so she merely nodded in answer. With a wide smile he took her hand in his and led her towards the nearest exit. Molly thought she heard cheering, coming from the direction of John and Mary, but her head was rather befuddled so perhaps she had only imagined it.

The cab ride to Baker Street was a silent one. Molly decided that it was best not to say anything, thinking that perhaps Sherlock was busy filing away something in his Mind Palace. He was actually doing that very thing; he was adding an entire new room to Molly's wing, titled: 'Her lips, and how she kisses.'

Upon arriving outside his flat he quickly paid the driver and ushered Molly out of the cab. As soon as they entered the building and the door shut behind them, Sherlock pounced upon her. This time she was definitely the one that moaned as he pressed her into the wall, his body flush against hers, allowing her to feel the hardness of his erection rubbing against her hip. Realizing that they were snogging in the foyer, Molly gave him a gentle push back.

He frowned. "Mrs. Hudson will have taken her herbal soothers. She won't hear a thing."

Molly bit down on her bottom lip. "Are you planning on making a lot of noise?"

He smirked at her cheekily. "I plan to make you scream." He gave her hand a tug and moved towards the stairs. They quickly climbed them, bursting into his flat. The door was shut with a slam before Sherlock pushed her up against it, kissing her deeply once more.

As they continued to kiss he reached up and removed her antennae. She giggled against his lips as he tossed it over his shoulder. She gave the scarf and wig upon his head a push back and that too fell to the floor. She ran her hands through his curls and he groaned against her lips.

"Do you—" He took in a ragged breath as they parted. "Need any help getting out of this?"

She shook her head before dropping her hands from his hair. He took a step back. His breath hitched as she tugged the yellow and black striped atrocity from off her shoulders, revealing the black silk bra she wore beneath. He swallowed hard when she pushed down the rest of the fabric, bringing the thick dark tights with it, until it fell to the floor. She kicked it away, her shoes being taken as well. His gaze fell upon her pants, and he felt his cock give a rather prominent twitch. They were white, simple cotton, but what he found so intriguing about them was the fact that they were covered in little bees. She had clearly taken his mentioning of his love of the insect to heart; he couldn't help but be impressed.

Suddenly realizing that he had been standing there, silently admiring her for several minutes, he loudly cleared his throat. She smiled up at him, a twinkle in her eye.

"See something you like?" she asked him with a saucy smirk.

He nodded, swallowing once more. He took a step closer. "I think though, I'd prefer to see you out of these." He traced the hem of her pants with his fingertip, taking note that the elastic sported a message: 'Bee Amazing!' He very nearly snorted at the ridiculousness of if it, but managed to hold himself back. Not wanting to break the moment.

Molly reached up behind her and undid the clasp of her bra. When the cups fell away, as she slid the straps from her arms, his mouth dropped open. Another minute or so passed as he silently stared at her breasts. With a slight giggle she reached out and took up his hands before placing them over her chest. She whimpered as his hands perfectly cupped around her.

"Amazing," he whispered.

At that she did laugh. "You really think so? Ohhhh …" He had brushed his thumbs over her nipples. "You once told me they were too small."

His eyes flashed up to meet hers. "I was in a jealous rage. I didn't—I didn't mean it."

She smiled, covering his hands with her own. "I know. It's all right. I'm just … teasing you a bit." She tilted her head back, offering her lips for a kiss.

He complied, brushing his thumbs over her nipples once more. She arched her back into him, as he began to massage her tender flesh. She had never thought it was possible to have an orgasm from breast stimulation alone, but damn if she wasn't close!

"Sherlock," she whimpered as she felt the warmth of his breath ghost over her skin. He leaned back slightly and she took in a steadying breath. "It's not entirely fair that I'm standing here more than half-naked while you are still fully clothed!"

He chuckled, regretfully dropping his hands away from her. He moved them to his buckle and began to undo it. Molly continued to lean against the door, watching him.

"I'm rather surprised at you, that you actually dressed up!" she chortled.

He smirked. "Well … it was a costume party; I felt that it was part of my duty."

She snorted, then gasped softly as he pulled off the billowy shirt and vest, revealing his smooth, slightly toned chest. His smirk widened as he stepped closer to her.

"See something you like?" he parroted her earlier question.

"Oh yes!" she splayed her hands out upon his chest, before slowly sliding them downwards until they reached the top of his trousers. She pushed the opened belt out of the way and slipped her hand beneath the fabric.

"Molly!" he hissed out.

She smiled, standing on tip toe to press her lips to his as she wrapped her hand around his length. He groaned loudly, bucking up against her. The next few minutes were a flurry of limbs and removal of the rest of his costume, as well as Molly's knickers, which joined the pile on the floor. But now that they were both entirely naked the pair of them stood a bit awkwardly, neither one of them sure of what to do next.

"Sherlock…" she whispered softly, running her fingertips across his cheekbone. "Make love to me."

He pulled her to him, kissing her hungrily before he scooped her up into his arms and carried her directly to his bedroom. She smiled up at him as he laid her down upon the bed, quickly covering her body with his own. He nestled his cock directly between her spread legs, rubbing against her wetness as he kissed her once more.

"Make love to me," she implored, ending with a moan as he nudged at her clit with the head of his cock.

He kissed her again slowly, tenderly, before sinking into her wet warmth. She clung tightly to him, letting out a few happy sighs and moans as he became fully seated in her. As their lips met for another passionate kiss, she slid her hands down to cup his arse, pressing him against her. Their bodies began to rock together in a slow, smooth rhythm.

Sherlock's mouth traveled across her skin, tasting her, suckling her. When he took a pebbled nipple between his lips, she cried out, raising her hips to press them against his.

"Oh Sherlock, harder please!" she moaned.

He kissed her before grabbing a hold of her thigh and lifting her leg so that her ankle slid to the small of his back. He gave a swift solid thrust, entering her at an entirely new angle. He let out a muffled curse, burying his face in her neck as he continued to repeatedly fill her with his cock.

She lifted her other leg, locking him against her. Her nails were leaving small crescent moons in his skin. He couldn't care less, all he could focus on was how incredible her body felt around him, beneath him, and how he wanted to feel this bliss again and again; knowing that he would never grow tired of it.
Molly slid her hand from his shoulder up the length of his neck until she cupped the side of his face. Their eyes met as she rocked her hips in rhythm with his movements. Suddenly she cried out, ending with his name upon her lips. As he felt her come undone around him he gave only a few more solid thrusts before he followed her.

He softly gasped out her name, over and over as his entire body shuddered against hers. She held him close, pressing kisses to his cheek, his jaw, the base of his throat. He let out a great sigh as another shudder racked through his body. Ever so gently he slid his softening cock from her, instantly missing her warmth around him. He fell to the mattress beside her, and after a few moments of catching his breath he wrapped his arm around her and tugged her close. She chuckled softly as he buried his nose in her hair. She could hear the rapid beating of his heart as she curled up against his chest.

"Sherlock?"

"Shhhhh." He pressed his lips to the top of her head. Words weren't needed at that moment; all that was required was to bask in the afterglow of their lovemaking. The happy pair slowly drifted off to sleep.

Day Eleven

When Molly arrived at work the following afternoon she was sporting a brand new t-shirt. It bore the word 'Queen' and below it was a beautiful rendition of a crown and a bee. It was clear to anyone with half a brain and a pair of eyes to whom she was the ruler; mostly due to the fact that there was a beaming Consulting Detective following her into the lab. Any man would now be damned if he tried to get some of that honey!

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Sorry, not sorry for the ending. My brain refused to let me write it any other way :-P

And if you are at all remotely interested, all of the bee items, etc. that were mentioned really exist and I have conveniently provided links to them on my tumblr Sherlockian87

;)