Molly and Rosie are out for a walk when she gets Sherlock's texts with the sketches. They are pretty impressive actually. She texts him after they get back and she's got Rosie on the floor of the sitting room for some tummy time.
To: Sherlock From: Molly
11:00 AM: I didn't know you could draw.
He's a continual surprise in all sorts of ways. So far, all good.
At 11:30 Molly changes Rosie's nappy and then makes her a bottle before they settle into the rocking chair in the nursery. By noon, Rosie has finished most of the bottle and her eyes are drooping. Molly puts her down in the crib and rubs her tummy gently as she drifts off the rest of the way. When she appears to be out, she puts the baby monitor on and heads back out into the sitting room.
12:10: Did you find the key?
It's amusing to her that he's at her flat and she's at his. Or, well, sort of his for now. She didn't expect him to go there but she doesn't mind. He's spent plenty of time at her place while she wasn't there. She does sort of wonder why he doesn't just come to John's, although that may be crossing a line in her job as babysitter. Likely if he were there, she wouldn't let things progress very far anyway.
12:11 PM: Picked the lock. I'll teach you sometime.
12:12 PM: Your bed's comfortable. Might consider similar for Baker Street once it's mostly habitable again.
He sprawls out, grinning, cheerfully ignoring Toby's brief protest at being locked out of mummy's bedroom yet again.
12:13 PM: You're welcome to move to my room.
The room he's currently occupying in John's place already looks like typical Sherlock: small piles of papers and magazines and other whatnot grouped by classifications it'd probably take him an hour to explain, a copy of 101 Stories of the Great Ballets on the nightstand along with some terrifically dense text about organic chemistry, post-it notes with his spiky handwriting all over the walls.
Molly is picking up the sitting room and kitchen a bit when he texts back.
To: Sherlock From: Molly
12:15: I'm glad you're enjoying my flat. :P
12:16: Just cleaning out a bottle. About to go there.
She takes the baby monitor with her as she goes into Sherlock's room and closes the door. He has sprawled out surprisingly efficiently in the space considering the short amount of time he's occupied it. More like the Consulting Tornado.
She knows Sherlock is not much of a phone talker, but it seems easier than all this texting. Plus, she'll get to hear his voice. She's missed his voice.
"Hi," she says to him when she answers, her body warmed just by the sound of his voice. She curls her body up onto her side like she's a teenager who's just gotten a call from the cutest boy in school.
Texting her has been--well, it's been fun, but hearing her voice is both a pleasure and a relief, somehow. He likes that she enjoys talking to him. He likes listening to her.
"So how exactly does this kind of conversation start?" His grin turns lopsided.
Even that bloody awful phone call of the previous week couldn't wreck Molly's enjoyment of Sherlock's voice over the phone. It always felt like he was telling you the secrets of the universe somehow. Maybe it was just because he so rarely talked on the phone that it felt special.
She laughs at his questions.
"Usually with 'what are you wearing?' but I'm going to disappoint you with that answers since I'm dressed to spend the day with an infant," she says. "I didn't bring my basque with me."
Although she does have something nice with her to put under her dress for the evening. Something for him to unwrap later.
He laughs, and it's almost a purr. "Considering I haven't got myself costumed or anything either, I hardly have room to be disappointed in what you're wearing."
There's a pause, and then:
"Now, how much you're wearing could be an issue for negotiation."
His heart rate's starting to pick up even though things are still playful--or maybe because they are. The hand not holding the phone slips that first button free and trails down to the next.
"I am at this moment fully clothed. What would you like me to remove?" she purrs back into his ear, through the phone, her voice lowering a bit at the question.
She doesn't plan on getting fully naked in case she needs to see to Rosie, but she thinks she can take off enough to make him happy.
God, but this side of Molly Hooper is a fascinating surprise that just keeps evolving.
"Well. Shirts seem like a logical place to start." He undoes two more of his own buttons, remembering her clever hands on him. The smile is starting to fade from his voice, though the warmth stays, blossoming slowly into heat. "Doesn't need to be off completely, but. You should have better access to your breasts."
Molly would be terribly pleased to know that's she's capable of surprising Sherlock Holmes so much.
"Alright," she says and puts him on speakerphone so she can set her mobile down next to her on the bed. There is a rustling sound as she sits up and takes off both her jumper and the shirt underneath in one go. "I'm down to my bra. I hope you're also removing your shirt."
She lays back down on his bed. She turns her head and can smell him on his pillow.
He takes the opportunity to put his own phone aside when she does so he can finish getting his own shirt off--and his belt, for good measure, because there's nobody about for him to scare but Toby and he couldn't care less what that cat thinks.
And he hears her inhale, can tell she's taking in his scent, and his cock strains against the fly of his trousers.
"It's off," he says, a rough edge in his voice. "Do your nipples always get hard so quickly when you're aroused, by the way, or was Saturday an exception to the rule?"
She might not think it's sexy, but it's a casual way of showing off her intelligence and a solid comfort in her own body, both of which are quite a turn-on for Sherlock.
"Imagining anything in particular?" he asks, palm flat against his bare stomach, fingers pointing downward but not straying to his zip just yet. "Something we've done, or something we haven't got to yet?"
"Right now just thinking about you laying half naked in my bed," she says. That's all it takes.
"But I have been thinking a lot about Saturday."
And there's of course been years of thinking about things they could do, but it feels weird talking about that because he won't have had that same experience she doesn't think.
She closes her eyes at the sound of his voice and feels her center throb in instant want. From the way she hears his breath catch, she's not the only one.
Glancing over at the baby monitor to make sure Rosie is still out cold, she then starts unbuttoning her trousers.
"A couple times," she says to his question. "You do too. I've always admired them."
And wondered what they would feel like on her, in her. Now she knows.
(A little flag pops up somewhere in Sherlock's brain: he wants to give Molly a compliment none of her previous lovers have ever given her. Which will take some thought, and right now thinking is, for once, not his top priority.)
He undoes the button of his fly one-handed, pushes his trousers down his hips. "And you can deduce what they're doing right now, I imagine. Or about to do. What they'd do to you if you were here."
Sherlock hasn't even needed to imagine Molly touching him to get off. Since Saturday, he's been reliving the sight of her face lit up by orgasm, the sense memory of her hot and strong around his fingers, the taste of her on his hand.
"Yes," she breathes out as her own hand slips into her trousers to press against her mound over her knickers. "Tell me anyway?"
She doesn't specify for him to tell her what he's doing to himself or what he'd do to her. Either will be more than sufficient.
She too has barely needed much stimuli to get herself off since Saturday. Molly may not have the memory of Sherlock but she will never forget the look of him in orgasm, the feel of him fucking her with his fingers, or the sight of him licking her from them. If anything, the struggle was with blocking the images out while trying to work on Sunday. She would find her mind wandering back there and suddenly she's trying to work with wet knickers and stealing off to the loo for a quick wank during break time.
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Date: 2017-02-15 09:32 pm (UTC)To: Sherlock
From: Molly
11:00 AM: I didn't know you could draw.
He's a continual surprise in all sorts of ways. So far, all good.
At 11:30 Molly changes Rosie's nappy and then makes her a bottle before they settle into the rocking chair in the nursery. By noon, Rosie has finished most of the bottle and her eyes are drooping. Molly puts her down in the crib and rubs her tummy gently as she drifts off the rest of the way. When she appears to be out, she puts the baby monitor on and heads back out into the sitting room.
12:10: Did you find the key?
It's amusing to her that he's at her flat and she's at his. Or, well, sort of his for now. She didn't expect him to go there but she doesn't mind. He's spent plenty of time at her place while she wasn't there. She does sort of wonder why he doesn't just come to John's, although that may be crossing a line in her job as babysitter. Likely if he were there, she wouldn't let things progress very far anyway.
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Date: 2017-02-15 09:48 pm (UTC)From: Sherlock
12:11 PM: Picked the lock. I'll teach you sometime.
12:12 PM: Your bed's comfortable. Might consider similar for Baker Street once it's mostly habitable again.
He sprawls out, grinning, cheerfully ignoring Toby's brief protest at being locked out of mummy's bedroom yet again.
12:13 PM: You're welcome to move to my room.
The room he's currently occupying in John's place already looks like typical Sherlock: small piles of papers and magazines and other whatnot grouped by classifications it'd probably take him an hour to explain, a copy of 101 Stories of the Great Ballets on the nightstand along with some terrifically dense text about organic chemistry, post-it notes with his spiky handwriting all over the walls.
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Date: 2017-02-15 10:12 pm (UTC)To: Sherlock
From: Molly
12:15: I'm glad you're enjoying my flat. :P
12:16: Just cleaning out a bottle. About to go there.
She takes the baby monitor with her as she goes into Sherlock's room and closes the door. He has sprawled out surprisingly efficiently in the space considering the short amount of time he's occupied it. More like the Consulting Tornado.
You've certainly made it your own.
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Date: 2017-02-15 10:41 pm (UTC)From: Sherlock
12:17 PM: I like to get comfortable.
Speaking of which.
You normally shower before you go to bed, don't you? The pillows are absolutely full of the smell of your shampoo.
Not his best transition, but it is something he's noticing very strongly right now and sincerely enjoying.
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Date: 2017-02-16 01:21 am (UTC)From: Molly
12:18: Is that a good thing?
She can't tell over text if he's complaining or praising it.
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Date: 2017-02-16 01:31 am (UTC)From: Sherlock
12:18: Yes. Is it too early to admit I'm hard?
He can't help it. Having her scent on him again is bringing back powerful memories of exactly what they've done in this bed together.
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Date: 2017-02-16 01:40 am (UTC)To: Sherlock
From: Molly
12:19: I don't want to put words in your mouth but it sounds like maybe you missed me.
12:19: Or your prick did, at least. ;)
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Date: 2017-02-16 01:49 am (UTC)From: Sherlock
12:20: That pathologist in Cardiff really was ghastly.
12:20: Which is to say, yes, on both counts.
12:20: The bed at my hotel was too big.
Sherlock's not exactly sure how sexting is supposed to work, really, but it seems like an ideal time to start unbuttoning his shirt.
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Date: 2017-02-16 01:52 am (UTC)From: Molly
12:21: I missed you too.
12:22: Call me?
She knows Sherlock is not much of a phone talker, but it seems easier than all this texting. Plus, she'll get to hear his voice. She's missed his voice.
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Date: 2017-02-16 01:57 am (UTC)Less than thirty seconds after that text, Molly's phone rings. There's an audible grin in his voice, one that warms it and pitches it at a low rumble.
"Good afternoon."
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Date: 2017-02-16 02:26 am (UTC)"Hi," she says to him when she answers, her body warmed just by the sound of his voice. She curls her body up onto her side like she's a teenager who's just gotten a call from the cutest boy in school.
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Date: 2017-02-16 02:40 am (UTC)"So how exactly does this kind of conversation start?" His grin turns lopsided.
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Date: 2017-02-16 02:50 am (UTC)She laughs at his questions.
"Usually with 'what are you wearing?' but I'm going to disappoint you with that answers since I'm dressed to spend the day with an infant," she says. "I didn't bring my basque with me."
Although she does have something nice with her to put under her dress for the evening. Something for him to unwrap later.
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Date: 2017-02-16 02:57 am (UTC)There's a pause, and then:
"Now, how much you're wearing could be an issue for negotiation."
His heart rate's starting to pick up even though things are still playful--or maybe because they are. The hand not holding the phone slips that first button free and trails down to the next.
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Date: 2017-02-16 03:02 am (UTC)"I am at this moment fully clothed. What would you like me to remove?" she purrs back into his ear, through the phone, her voice lowering a bit at the question.
She doesn't plan on getting fully naked in case she needs to see to Rosie, but she thinks she can take off enough to make him happy.
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Date: 2017-02-16 03:19 am (UTC)"Well. Shirts seem like a logical place to start." He undoes two more of his own buttons, remembering her clever hands on him. The smile is starting to fade from his voice, though the warmth stays, blossoming slowly into heat. "Doesn't need to be off completely, but. You should have better access to your breasts."
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Date: 2017-02-16 03:26 am (UTC)"Alright," she says and puts him on speakerphone so she can set her mobile down next to her on the bed. There is a rustling sound as she sits up and takes off both her jumper and the shirt underneath in one go. "I'm down to my bra. I hope you're also removing your shirt."
She lays back down on his bed. She turns her head and can smell him on his pillow.
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Date: 2017-02-16 03:37 am (UTC)And he hears her inhale, can tell she's taking in his scent, and his cock strains against the fly of his trousers.
"It's off," he says, a rough edge in his voice. "Do your nipples always get hard so quickly when you're aroused, by the way, or was Saturday an exception to the rule?"
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Date: 2017-02-16 03:48 am (UTC)"My nipples get hard easily in general. Arousal, the cold, hormonal changes due to my cycle."
It's out before she realizes that her answer isn't exactly sexy.
"Right now they're hard because I'm thinking about you."
That's better. A hand comes up to grab her breast under her bra, squeezing her nipple.
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Date: 2017-02-16 05:57 pm (UTC)"Imagining anything in particular?" he asks, palm flat against his bare stomach, fingers pointing downward but not straying to his zip just yet. "Something we've done, or something we haven't got to yet?"
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Date: 2017-02-17 04:08 am (UTC)"But I have been thinking a lot about Saturday."
And there's of course been years of thinking about things they could do, but it feels weird talking about that because he won't have had that same experience she doesn't think.
"Have you?"
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Date: 2017-02-17 08:41 pm (UTC)He can't resist. His hand slides down, and he palms his hard prick through his clothes, breath catching audibly at the friction.
"You have incredible hands, Molly, has anyone ever told you?"
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Date: 2017-02-17 09:26 pm (UTC)Glancing over at the baby monitor to make sure Rosie is still out cold, she then starts unbuttoning her trousers.
"A couple times," she says to his question. "You do too. I've always admired them."
And wondered what they would feel like on her, in her. Now she knows.
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Date: 2017-02-17 09:45 pm (UTC)He undoes the button of his fly one-handed, pushes his trousers down his hips. "And you can deduce what they're doing right now, I imagine. Or about to do. What they'd do to you if you were here."
Sherlock hasn't even needed to imagine Molly touching him to get off. Since Saturday, he's been reliving the sight of her face lit up by orgasm, the sense memory of her hot and strong around his fingers, the taste of her on his hand.
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Date: 2017-02-17 09:58 pm (UTC)She doesn't specify for him to tell her what he's doing to himself or what he'd do to her. Either will be more than sufficient.
She too has barely needed much stimuli to get herself off since Saturday. Molly may not have the memory of Sherlock but she will never forget the look of him in orgasm, the feel of him fucking her with his fingers, or the sight of him licking her from them. If anything, the struggle was with blocking the images out while trying to work on Sunday. She would find her mind wandering back there and suddenly she's trying to work with wet knickers and stealing off to the loo for a quick wank during break time.
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