The Anniversary

[theonewhocounted]

When Sherlock tells her to clear her calendar on December 16th, she has no idea what he's up to. And he isn't exactly being forthcoming with the details. Every time she tries to trick him into revealing something about the plan, he is (of course) two steps ahead of her, easily sidestepping the question or only hinting at the answer. So when the morning finally comes, she has no idea what to expect. With Sherlock there is no way to prepare for or guess at what's to come, so her plan is just to go with the flow, let him lead the way. He likes to do it anyway.

He's already up when she awakens and she pulls on her robe before padding out into the sitting room to find out what he's up to. A fire is going, which is good because the rest of the flat is chilly.

Comments

[punchmeitssubtext]

“Not unless we absolutely have to,” he admits. “The smell would put a damper on the rest of the plans.”

Socially oblivious as he is, even he knows that most places can and will kick you out if you stink of formaldehyde. Plus with the way this day is planned they won’t have much time to head home and change if there’s a chemical mishap of some sort.

He’s momentarily, pleasantly distracted by the sight of her bending over the box to retrieve the case of instruments.

“New jeans,” he observes approvingly, before he can stop himself.

[theonewhocounted]

Well, that's a relief to hear him say he's not planning on opening the jar. She deals with formaldehyde sometimes, but it's not really something she enjoys.

His comment about her jeans takes her by surprise - he's always doing that - and she huffs out a laugh.

"Why, Sherlock Holmes. Are you checking out my arse while we're on the job?" she teases him with a smirk over her shoulder. It fills her with strange pride that her bum can distract him even in the middle of a room full of puzzles. She's going to mark this one on the calendar and tell their children someday.

[punchmeitssubtext]

The way she looks back at him sends a sudden strange wave of what he can only describe as fondness uncurling through his chest. Not only is she profoundly physically attractive to him, but he genuinely loves how she responds to the things he says and thinks, especially when she challenges him a little.

"Yes." He moves to examine another box, though he doesn't take his eyes off her for a long moment. "It's appealing and in my line of sight."

[theonewhocounted]

"Well, when you put it that way..." she jokes as she turns to go back to the case with the medical instruments. Only he could make staring at her bum sound logical.

She pulls on some gloves before she starts pulling out the instruments and laying them on the table.

"What's in your box?"

She glances back over at him.

[punchmeitssubtext]

He rifles through it for a moment before letting out a little 'a-hah'.

"This," he declares, lifting a battered folder from the box to peer at its contents more closely. "Photographs from... looks like Merton College, or one of the others near it in Oxford. All black and white. Could see if we recognize him in one of these--we might have a professor who made a specimen of himself."

[theonewhocounted]

Molly went over to see the photos. She always did like old ones.

"Are there dates on them?" she asked as she looked over his shoulder at photos of men posed seated together looking at the camera. Looked like formal class photos. There appeared to also be some more candids in the classroom and at events.