There have been times, over the past year, when Sherlock has been... well, Sherlock about certain things. He's still not particularly good at articulating his emotions when they're complicated or overwhelming; he still needs decompression and processing time alone in his mind palace; he still threatens to make Toby into mittens when that damn cat decides to take a nap in his Belstaff. But he's been learning how to be a partner, how to make the emotional Sherlock and the purely logical one live in the same skin--and, perhaps just as important, he's been learning to let Molly in. Every time he has, things have gotten just that little bit better.
It's absolutely worth cat hair on his coat and the occasional realization that he's accidentally left the house in a pair of Molly's socks.
"Only when you're sleeping," he says, smirking back at her. "And when ordering takeaway. Speaking of which, breakfast should be here any minute."
(He did try, a few months back, to put together a dinner for her. Distantly he's still sort of amazed the entire building didn't burn down again--though to be fair, he's still certain it would have turned out fine if Lestrade hadn't interrupted with an absolutely cracking unexplained death.)
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Date: 2017-12-12 04:57 pm (UTC)It's absolutely worth cat hair on his coat and the occasional realization that he's accidentally left the house in a pair of Molly's socks.
"Only when you're sleeping," he says, smirking back at her. "And when ordering takeaway. Speaking of which, breakfast should be here any minute."
(He did try, a few months back, to put together a dinner for her. Distantly he's still sort of amazed the entire building didn't burn down again--though to be fair, he's still certain it would have turned out fine if Lestrade hadn't interrupted with an absolutely cracking unexplained death.)