I don't own Molly or Sherlock. Or BBC, or Moffat or Gattiss, Or Lou Brealey.
Or Benedict Cumberbatch. If I owned him, none of these would ever get written. Ever.
Have fun!
Birthday Traditions
OoOoOoOoOoOoOo
The date was January 6, 2013. This may not have seemed very significant to most, but to a select few, this day was highly important. Today was the birthday of the world's only consulting detective. Sherlock Holmes. Sherlock felt it completely pointless and dull that his friends wanted to throw him a celebration. He had seen many birthdays before, and in the past year, had even seen death. He didn't like parties, or get togethers of any sort. So, being his usual self, he decided to lock himself away in his room.
Meanwhile, amongst the rest of 221B, Mrs. Hudson and John Watson planned away.
''Right, so we have tea, and a cake. I'll make up some sandwiches, dear.'' Mrs. Hudson said sweetly, making her way down the stairs, but not before fussing over the setting of things on the long table. John smirked at her, and nodded.
''Yes, thank you, Mrs. Hudson. I still need to call Greg, Mary, and Molly. Should I call Mycroft, do you think?" He asked, already knowing the answer. Mrs. Hudson gave him a wary look, to which he laughed at. He completed setting out the plates and silverware, and had finished wrapping Sherlock's present. He then picked up his phone to text the others.
'Greg, hope you can make it. Be here at 5. Don't forget a gift.'
-John-
he then sent a text to his girlfriend, Mary.
'Hello dear. Hope you can still come tonight. 5 pm. I already bought a gift from the both of us. See you soon.'
-John-
The last text he sent was to Molly.
'Hey Molls, I hope it's not too much trouble to ask. Sherlock's birthday is today, and we've planned a little party. 5 pm. See you here, I hope. You don't have to get a gift, though I'm sure you will anyway.'
-John-
OoOo
Molly had received the text right as her shift ended. The mention of the word 'birthday' had brought back wonderful replays in her head, from her birthday present just six months ago. Molly sat in the back of the cab, smiling yo herself as she flashed back to that night in his flat.
(Sherlock led her into his bedroom, all the while unbuttoning her blouse with his long fingers. She grabbed for his shirt, trying to hold onto him. He pushed the door shut behind her.
''Molly, I hope you find this gift...satisfactory.'' he said in a dark voice. She shuddered at the tingling sensation it sent through her middle. She nodded her head and he undressed her completely, then himself. He pulled her to his bed, and had her spread out on the comforter. He then proceeded to position himself above her, and...)
Molly's head shot up as she heard the cabbie tell her to get out. She paid the grumpy man, and walked up to her flat. She had fed Toby, and showered, when she had the tiny thought nibble away on her brain. 'The perfect birthday present.' She thought to herself. She went to her closet, and fished through several different storage boxes, before she found what she needed. Molly finished getting ready, and wrote out a small note on the birthday card she had selected for him. With everything set, she made her way to Baker Street.
OoOo
It was 5 pm. All the guests had arrived, and were now waiting for a cantankerous Sherlock to exit the confines of his room. John knocked on the door, receiving a grumble from the other side. He attempted a few more times, before Mrs. Hudson blustered up to the wooden panel.
''Sherlock, your friends are out here waiting for you. So get out here, young man, or so help me...I'll go stay with my sister for a week.'' She said firmly, coming up with some sort of incentive. They waited, and moments later, the door opened, revealing a lazy looking detective. He was clad in pajamas and his favorite dressing gown. He looked crankily at the old woman.
''You wouldn't dare.'' He eyed her suspiciously, but it was too late. They had tugged him by the arms out to the main room, and sat him in his chair. He looked over to see the other guests. Molly smiled shyly at him, while Lestrade grinned smugly. John returned with Mary in one arm, and a wrapped gift in the other. He plopped the large box into Sherlock's lap.
''It's from both of us. We thought you could use a new one.'' He said proudly, snuggling his girl closer to him. She giggled and Sherlock held it up slightly.
''Oh, new microscope. Thank you John. Mary.'' He opened the box, to reveal what was, in fact, a brand new microscope. He took it out of the box, and went to place it on the kitchen table next to the older one. He returned soon enough, and Lestrade handed him his gift. It looked like it had been run over by a truck.
''Lestrade, you've already given me one of these confounded ear-hats.'' Sherlock quipped. Greg looked to john, before smiling.
''Yes, well I heard that he mysteriously was taken by a homeless man. Thought I would give you a new one.'' He said, smirking at the irked looking man in the chair. Mrs. Hudson came next, pulling out a bright gift bag.
''Now, you don't have to wear it if you don't like it, but I thought you might look dashing in it.'' She cooed lovingly. Sherlock unwrapped the strings and pulled out a new, powder blue scarf. He smiled lightly at it slightly, having already known its pastel nature. He stood and briefly hugged the landlady, silently thanking her. Molly stood and nervously handed him the card. He looked up at her.
''It's not much, but I hope you like it.'' She said quietly, before sitting back down across the room. Sherlock opened the envelope, before flipping open the card. The pre printed message was a simple 'Happy Birthday.' He looked to the bottom of the card. Her handwritten note read:
'Dear Sherlock. I hope you'll forgive my lack of gift for you. I did in fact get you a present, however I forgot it at my flat. If you want to stop by to get it, you can. If not, it's fine. Happy Birthday, Sherlock.
Love,
Molly.'
He finished reading the card, to look at her. His mind was confused. What could this gift be?
The party continued, with the friends eating cake and small sandwiches. They played Cluedo, which ended disastrously with Lestrade pulling his gun on Sherlock, who insisted that the inspector was the killer. This was the end of the party. Greg and Molly had walked out together, each hailing a cab to their homes. Mary decided to stay with John, who cleaned up the mess made after the festivities. Sherlock sat, curiosity eating away at him. With a swift motion, he grabbed his coat and replaced it with his dressing gown. John and Mary looked up to see him leaving the door.
''Sherlock? Where are you going? At midnight? In your pajamas?" John asked. He heard the call from the bottom of the stairs.
''Out! Be back later!" They heard the door to the outside slam shut.
OoOo
He rushed up the stairs to her top floor flat. Once he reached her door at the end of the hall, he stood for a moment, debating whether to knock or not. His body, having decided for him, pounded on the door rather loudly. A few moments later, Molly opened it.
''Oh, hello Sherlock. Are- are you here for your present?" She asked, sounding slightly nervous. Sherlock nodded his head. She opened the door further to allow him in, and he brushed past her. She took notice of his pajama bottoms peeking out from under his coat, and she suppressed a giggle. Sherlock wheeled around, making passing deductions about her flat, her books, movies, and the state of her furniture. He gazed over at her briefly, noting that she was also dressed for bed. Her pale blue dressing gown wrapped tightly around her curves. He stood in the midst of her living space, and looked at her expectantly. She smirked.
''Oh, yes, well...you see, I sort of wanted to send you on a bit of a scavenger hunt through my flat for your gift. If you'd be up for that.'' Molly said in her mousy voice. The thought of looking through her flat seemed rather dull and tedious to him. However, curiosity often overruled small details such as those.
''Alright. I do believe I am entitled to a starting clue, am I correct?" He stated more than asked. Molly nodded her head with a sly grin on her face.
''Your first clue is: 'I have been in all of these rooms.' I'll give you more hints, but only when you ask for one. Okay?" She said, cleverly giving him the rules. Sherlock agreed and began to ponder the clue. 'Many things Could have seen every room in Molly's flat. Hardly conclusive. Better ask for another.'
''Yes, another clue, please.'' Sherlock asked. Molly took in a sip of air, before speaking.
''Alright. Clue number two: 'I can be used in all of these rooms.''' She said, her grin growing ever so slightly. This clue really got his mind reeling.
'Hm. Again, many things are possible. However, this narrows down the field significantly. That, plus the fact that this is supposedly a gift I will enjoy, should make the item reveal itself.' Sherlock deduced to himself, looking around the room.
'Hm. Books, no. Perhaps a map, though I have nearly all of the recorded topographical data of the world. Perhaps some type of music listening device. That would seem right up her alley. Alright, one more clue ought to do it.' He smirked, seeming to have her pegged.
''One last clue, Molly.'' He said flatly. Molly turned a tad shade of pink, before offering up the bit of information.
''K. It has a bow on it.'' Sherlock immediately began roaming the various rooms, looking for any and all signs of a bow. 'Ribbon, no. More likely one of those paper ones that has already pre made.' He searched cupboards and drawers, and then circled back to the living room. Molly stood there, where she had been, with her arms crossed in a slight air of victory. He looked at her stance, and saw something shine from her waist, where her belt tied her robe shut. It was a small, silver bow. It attached to a hair pin, the one she had worn at the Christmas party two years prior. 'Parties. Birthdays. Birthday presents.'
''OH.'' His eyes widened in a flash of understanding. Molly uncrossed her arms, and placed them behind her back.
''Would you- would you like to unwrap your gift?" She asked, her voice sounding quieter and more seductive than before. Sherlock looked her up and down approvingly, before taking a step near her. She looked into his eyes, as his hand felt its way down to her hip, and removing the small clip. Molly's robe fell open, revealing her nude form. His hands went up to his lapels on his coat, and he pulled it from him, tossing it over to her arm chair. Molly stepped back, toying with him, but he grabbed her by the fabric belt on her robe, and reeled her closer to him.
''Hm. A toy that plays WITH me. This could be rather fun.'' He said with a mischievous smirk. Molly giggled at the comment, but was quickly stopped when Sherlock pressed his mouth firmly against hers. She made a moan from somewhere in the back of her throat, and he deepened the kiss. Sherlock pushed her robe off her shoulders, and immediately slid his hands around to cup her bare bottom. Molly grabbed at his T-shirt, wrinkling it under her fingers. Sherlock allowed her to pull it off over his head, and she threw it behind her. Her hands moved again to his chest, her light fingers tracing along the contours of his abdomen. She pulled him by the drawstring of his pants toward her bedroom. They feverishly kissed the entire way down the hall, and she kicked the door closed behind him as they entered. She spun him around, and pushed him onto the bed. He plopped backward, his elbows supporting his upper body to look at her.
Molly crouched down on the floor, parting his legs so she fit in between them perfectly. She undid the string, and loosened the elastic around his waist. Sherlock grinned as her fingers raked along the skin of his thighs, watching her pull down his PJ's. She tossed the pants aside, leaving a naked, and apparently very aroused detective in front of her. Molly smiled up at him, almost innocently, before she took his length in her hand.
Sherlock hissed in a gulp of air as the sensation made him jerk. Molly's eyes flared with arousal, her pupils blowing out completely. She began to run her and up and down, lightly squeezing him as she went. Sherlock felt a growl rumble inside his chest, the pure animal nature of him coming out. He opened his eyes to watch her, and was met by her intensive stare right back at him. The stare made the action more than lustful. Sherlock felt his knees begin to shake, the tense coil about to snap. He pulled Molly up suddenly, grabbing her around her hips.
''''Hm, methinks the birthday boy likes his present.'' She said in a purr. Sherlock's eyes flickered, and he pulled her on top of him. Molly gasped as she felt him enter her. The gasp spurred him to thrust deep into her, making her repeat the sound. He moaned loudly, his head rolling back into the mattress, as he continued to press deeper into her. Molly stabilized herself with her hands firmly pressed into his chest, as she rode out through wave upon wave of pleasure. Her head threw back as he quickened the pace, his hips jerking up to collide with hers, as they both drew closer to release.
''Oh bloody hell!" She cried out, feeling her body convulse around him. She heard him call out her name, and they both fell over the edge together. Molly stayed in her position, riding the aftershocks of blyss that coursed through her center. Sherlock gently rolled her off of him after a minute, the two staring blurry eyed at the ceiling. Molly steadied her breathing, and began to chuckle in an airy voice. Sherlock tilted his head to look inquisitively at her. Without returning the gaze, she spoke.
''Oh, nothing. I just think this may have to be our new traditional gift for the other's birthday.'' She smiled. Sherlock joined in her laughter, and spoke his own mind after a minute.
''Yes, but if I recall correctly, I believe one of those clues said something about being used in every room of this flat. I'd very much like to try that.'' He turned to see her wide brown eyes gazing at him. They held a seductive twinkle that he found rather beautiful. She simply nodded her head with a smirk on her face.
OoOo
Sherlock walked into the door of 221B Baker Street, only to be greeted by an angry John.
''Where the HELL have you been, Sherlock?" He hollered, immediately squaring up to the tall man. Sherlock frowned slightly, almost in a pout.
''It's been two days! Not a word in two whole days from you! Where were you? Did you even think to call to ensure the rest of us you were still alive!" John yelled. Sherlock shrugged his shoulders, and sat in his chair. John huffed, before sitting opposite his friend. He took in a few more breaths, before asking in a calmer voice,
''So, where is it that you disappeared for the past two days?"
Part of his mind wanted very much to tell John the truth. 'Shagging Molly Hooper senseless upon every surface of her one bedroom flat.' He smirked at some of the more sordid positions he'd found himself in the past couple of days. Instead, he opted for a vague declaration.
''Oh, I've just been enjoying a birthday gift someone gave me.''
OoOoOoOoOoOoOo
Well, I hope you enjoyed that. Here's to birthdays! We like them! Lol. Hope you review, favorite, follow, what have you, this story as well as my others. Thanks all!