Then why--oh. Oh, she's joking. His face warms with a smile, more out of pure fondness for her and her brand of social clumsiness than out of actual amusement.

"Wasn't planning on it," he says, leaning against her a bit. And though he still feels just the slightest bit startled by what's just happened--an unexpected emotional hiccup catching him off-guard--she's still keeping him steady. Even when they both stumble, he's no longer quite so afraid that a stumble will turn into a headlong pitch downhill.

And, as a sort of gesture of goodwill--the kind of thing only a few people can ever coax out of Sherlock--he picks up his fork again with the hand not holding Molly's, and forks himself up another bite of the nutella-and-strawberries crepe he was partway through.