(As Sherlock has observed, John is smarter than he looks, so pretty damn smart. Even though the hickey's mostly faded, he knows what a happy Molly looks like, and the fact that Sherlock came home with the clothes he left the house in but not in them is telling to say the least. He's trying very hard not to think about it, because he knows walking in on anything would be every bit as awkward as the few times he walked in on Harry with her girlfriends when they were in school. But when he confines his thinking about the situation to the emotional side of it, he finds he's earnestly damn happy for the two of them. Molly deserves this, and Sherlock... well, he'd be willing to bet Sherlock can earn it. And it'd make Mary so happy.)

John answers the door with Rosie in his arms. She's alert, and she recognizes faces now--and, as ever, she lights up at the sight of her godmother. Her little hands wave towards Molly, and she laughs excitedly.

"Hey, Molly. Perfect timing, as usual. Come on in, yeah? We can go over the schedule before I leave. How've you been?"

There might be a teasing tone creeping into that last question. Granted, Sherlock is way more fun to needle about this than Molly, but he can't help himself.

To: Molly
From: Sherlock

9:09 AM: Did I ever tell you I taught Dad about emoticons when we got him his first iPhone, to spite Mycroft? It backfired on us both.

9:10 AM: Expect intermittent texts. Possibly sexting; I haven't decided yet.

(Is... is that an attempt at flirting?)