Molly also sleeps better than she has in a while, surrounded by Sherlock's warmth and familiar scent. It's past 11 when she finally stirs. The sun is streaming in through the cracks in her blinds and she can hear Toby scratching at the bedroom door. Poor thing is probably wondering where breakfast is. As she blinks her eyes open, she realizes that 1. Sherlock is still there (not a dream), and 2. she's effectively turned the man into a living body pillow. He's on his back and she's got both her arm and leg hiked over his body and her head tucked into his shoulder.

She blushes and lifts her head gently to see if he's still asleep and if she can attempt to extract herself before he wakes.