(no subject)

[theonewhocounted]

She thought it would be hard to get Sherlock to agree to take a holiday together. He didn't seem to be much for vacations. But it had turned out to be a surprisingly easy sell. All she had to do was mention that it would mean missing Christmas dinner at his parent's cottage and he started searching for flights and hotels immediately. She could have pointed out that it was likely his parents would just invite them another time, but that seemed neither here nor there. They were going to take a holiday and she was exceedingly pleased.

The morning of their flight, Molly was giving Mrs. Hudson directions on caring for Toby while they were away. Sherlock was buzzing around, not at all hiding his impatience to just be off already - especially when Molly preceded to then say her goodbyes to the cat.

"Now you be good," she said to the feline. "Mummy will be back before you know it."

She could hear Sherlock's impatient eye roll from across the room as she kissed the top of Toby's head and then straightened up before grabbing her coat.

"All right. I'm ready now. Let's call the cab."

Comments

[punchmeitssubtext]

His answering grin was lopsided, his voice warm with a laugh.

"Between the room service and the company that'll be a challenge," he remarked. "Suppose I'll have to exercise more self-discipline than I planned on, this holiday."

This close to Christmas, the holiday trappings provided an interesting contrast, just as they did in London--fairy lights and tiny LEDs and fresh branches of evergreen needles decorated buildings hundreds of years old. Already they'd seen several buildings whose stone steps had smooth grooves worn in them from streams of visitors dating back centuries. Had Sherlock been a few inches closer to normal, he'd often reflected, he probably would have gone into archaeology for the chance to spend his life unraveling the distant history in cities like this, solving mysteries generations removed from his own life.

But archaeology probably wouldn't have thrown him into the path of a talented and gorgeous pathologist, so he had no real regrets.

"That or we could go to bed early."

[theonewhocounted]

"Or we could remind ourselves that we have all week to see the cathedral?" she suggested with a grin. Usually out of the two of them, Molly was the one who was better with self-discipline, but they were on holiday after all. It was a time to indulge, have a lie in, eat the gelato, drink the wine, etc. etc.

She turned from looking up at Sherlock and caught a glimpse of the water in the distance ahead. Molly always had a love for the water. Maybe it was from growing up so near the ocean, but she always felt most at home and at peace near water - whether just walking nearby or in a boat or swimming. When she didn't have such a hectic work schedule, she used to try to get to the community pool nearest her flat a couple times a week to swim laps. Sometimes she thought about starting to go again, but hadn't made it there yet.

"You know, it just occurred to me that I have no idea whether you like to swim or not."

That would probably seem quite the odd, out-of-the-blue question to most people, but she knew that her genius not-boyfriend would probably follow her unspoken line of thought without batting an eye.

[punchmeitssubtext]

"I do, actually. Not in this sort of weather," he added, half-teasing, "but I was always bothering my parents to take us to the beach in the summer. Not to mention that most of the time if I was playing pirates somewhere I could actually get in a canoe or a dinghy I'd inevitably fall out or drop my oar overboard and have to swim back to shore."

Of course he'd noticed, in years past, the wet hair and the faint smell of chlorine on her, little phenomena that had stopped recurring after a certain point--she'd been a regular swimmer, then stopped. Probably work-related. It did bring up a thought, though, one that had tugged at him on and off for some time.

"All right, time for things I can't deduce--have you ever been snorkeling, or scuba diving?"

[theonewhocounted]

Molly loved hearing Sherlock talk about what he was like as a child. She wished she knew him then. She wondered if they would have been friends or if he would have been too smart for her.

"I'm going to have to add that to my very short list," she joked with him at the question. There hadn't been much he wasn't able to deduce about her, but every now and then...

"Snorkeling, yes. Scuba diving, no. Although I have always wanted to try. I like the idea of it. And I am going to guess that you have done both."

Her deduction skills were nowhere near to his, but she sometimes liked to make educated guesses even when she had hardly any solid input to do so.

[punchmeitssubtext]

Based on what he knew about Molly's own childhood, there was a part of Sherlock that sometimes took an odd kind of comfort from imagining them as friends had they met far, far earlier in their lives. Of course there was no way to tell now, but it was an idea he rather liked. It was one of those far-from-logical things he didn't talk about if only because he wouldn't know how to begin, but at least he knew he was in the company of someone who wouldn't make fun of him for it.

(Besides, thinking about the two of them as children had started to spark Sherlock's curiosity about what a child of Molly's would look like, a curiosity that was steadily growing greater.)

"I have scuba dived twice, and both times it was work-related. Evidence retrieval rather than fun, which is not to say it wasn't fun at all. Though I like the idea of going looking for shipwrecks. Probably not much pirate gold to be found these days, but plenty of history."

They were close enough, now, that they could just see the river between buildings--a ribbon of gleaming reflected light.

"My turn to guess--your snorkeling was largely in the Mediterranean?"

[theonewhocounted]

Molly had similar thoughts that often accompanied the vision of a too-smart, mop-topped toddler running around Baker Street, playing with Rosie and terrorizing Toby. She didn't let herself dwell too long on the idea though. While she would usually have had the children conversation with a partner by this point in a relationship, she had been far too nervous to bring it up with Sherlock. This was his only relationship of significance ever and she had no idea what to expect should the topic be breached. And what would she do if he was not interested in having children? Would she be willing to give up being a mum for him? She wasn't sure.

"My snorkeling was only in the Mediterranean," she confirmed. "A trip to the Greek Isles after uni."

Still one of the most beautiful places she had been. Although, right now, Florence at dusk with its old, picturesque buildings and lights shining off the water of the river, was giving the turquoise waters off Greece a run for their money. Maybe it was also the company, warm by her side, bathing everything in a contented glow. She looked up to admire him for a moment as they continued to walk.

[punchmeitssubtext]

Despite his deductive skills, Sherlock hadn't quite been able to figure out where Molly stood on the idea of children. She hadn't brought it up and she'd never really said much about it to him during their friendship; he was unsure what exactly about a person's behavior indicated a desire to have a baby. Part of him almost hoped they would have a scare to force the discussion, but thus far Molly's birth control had proved more than equal to its job despite their very active sex life, and the idea of fiddling with it was borderline offensive to him.

He glanced down at her, and not for the first time was struck by how happy she looked at his side. Years' worth of trouble and strain had melted away from her; she was relaxed, contented, pleased. It was a sight that seemed to astonish him anew each time he really took it in--he'd so rarely made anyone happy in his life, and now he lived with someone who was happy to be with him, whose day he could reliably improve.

Seeing her like this was, he sometimes thought, the closest he ever felt to being the good man John and their friends insisted he was.

"Maybe we'll arrange a return trip this summer," he murmured, his smile helpless.

[theonewhocounted]

Maybe when they returned, she would have to volunteer the two of them to babysit Rosie. It wasn't often that she and Sherlock did so together. Usually, she was watching Rosie so that Sherlock and John could go off on a case together. Spending a day with the little girl might help her start the conversation. She knew Sherlock was good with her and seemed to enjoy teaching his niece the important things of the world (proper tea preparation, types of insect larvae, and sleight of hand, to name of few), even if she did not understand any of them yet. Watching him with her always did make her biological clock tick rather loudly. She was surprised he hadn't heard it himself. Unless, he had noticed and had chosen to ignore it.

Either way, she really did need to woman up one of these days and just get out with it.

The look he was giving her now, made her push the issue to the back of her mind. It wasn't important in this moment. The two of them strolling along, happy to just be together with no other purpose was all she really needed.

"Really? I would like that," she beamed at his suggestion. "Maybe I can learn to scuba dive in the meantime so we can go together."

She wasn't sure how long it took to get certified, but maybe she would look into it when they got back to London.

[punchmeitssubtext]

There was something almost touching about her offer to learn a new skill in order to join him--so few people had ever been willing to reach out to him at all, and now, for the sake of a holiday, Molly was at least willing to entertain the idea of putting in time and effort to make certain they could do one more thing together. Warmth bloomed through his chest, secret and pleased.

"Then I'll look into it," he replied. His gloved thumb stroked over her knuckles again. "Provided you're not sick of me by next summer, of course."

[theonewhocounted]

She smiled at his response.

"Never," she said simply to his second statement. Because it was as simple as that. If she hadn't gotten sick of him by now, it was doubtful she ever would. And she was certainly never going to get bored with him around.

[punchmeitssubtext]

They had almost reached the river's edge, now, and something about the conviction in her voice and her honey brown eyes made him squeeze her fingers a little tighter by way of reply.

Truthfully, he was having difficulty thinking of a scenario in which he got bored of being in a relationship with Molly--at least not a plausible one. There was so much about her he couldn't deduce, so much that was constantly evolving, and there were so many comforts small and large they had learned to provide for one another that only increased over time.

"You know, speaking of trips." There were other surprises to reveal over the next few days; he could let this one go a little early. "I've arranged a day trip for us, three days from now."

[theonewhocounted]

Molly smiled brighter at the squeeze of his hand around hers. She knew it was his way of saying "thank you." She squeezed his hand in return, "you're welcome."

"A day trip?" she asked, raising an eyebrow. "Whereabouts?"

Molly did love a good surprise, and Sherlock was pretty ace at delivering them. While she had a few ideas of where they could travel to for just a day, she would let him reveal his plans instead of her trying to guess. She knew he liked a good reveal as much as she liked a good surprise.

[punchmeitssubtext]

"A few hours south of here," he said, coyly, his smile taking on a sort of warm self-satisfaction. "Pompeii. A former client of mine is on one of the excavation teams, so we'll be able to tour some of the newer sites."

It seemed only appropriate that the two of them, who had been brought together by death and a desire to uncover seemingly lost facts, take a trip to a city whose death had given the world one of the best-preserved records of the distant past.

[theonewhocounted]

As soon as he said the direct they'd be going, she thought she knew.

"Oh! How exciting!" she said, eyes lighting up. "How did you know I've always wanted to go there?"

Which was sort of a silly question to ask Sherlock Bloody Holmes. Of course he knew. And of course he had a former client who worked there too.

[punchmeitssubtext]

That startled, happy look on her face engraved itself into his mind, to be tucked away in the ever-expanding wing of his mind palace dedicated to Molly Hooper; it cut through the evening chill.

"Aside from all the bookmarked articles on your laptop giving you away?" he teased, nudging her gently with his shoulder. "It seemed appropriate, seeing as we're already in Italy."

He was still a touch too awkward with his emotions to know how to admit that he wanted to be there for the first time she saw the city, that he wanted to watch her discover things she'd only seen in photographs.

[theonewhocounted]

Molly huffed out a laugh.

"That obvious, huh?" she asked. She'd forgotten that phase she went through of reading all those articles on the place. What other bookmarks had she forgotten about? Well, too late to worry about that now. Anything incriminating he's already seen. She did have a whole bookmarked folder full of wedding dresses and flowers and other wedding planning things from when she was engaged to Tom. She would have liked to see Sherlock's face at finding that.

"Well, for once I'm glad to be so transparent."

She smiled and leaned up to give him a quick kiss in thanks.

"And I'm lucky to have someone who cares enough to seek out my interests and make them happen."

[punchmeitssubtext]

The compliment brought his steps to a slow halt, as did the kiss--and he found himself reaching up to curl his hand around her shoulder, holding her gently in place so he could have a good long look at her.

For nearly forty years of his life he had lived life from the awkward vantage point of seeing everything but never being fully understood himself. Trauma had made him grow armor as broken skin grows scar tissue; he had learned to expect that most people would misinterpret him even if he was sincere with them. Day by day with Molly he had learned what it was like to be seen clearly, to trust that the vulnerable and damaged and ragged bits of himself were safe with another human being, to be told that, yes, he was capable of making someone happy.

And in a calm clear wave, like a reflected image appearing as ripples settled, he realized what the point was of church and a party.

He leaned down to kiss her again--slower, this time, lingering as the right words strung themselves slowly together in his mind.

"It's my pleasure, Molly," he murmured, as they parted. "I hope you know that."

Sorry for the delay! I was on holiday myself. :)

[theonewhocounted]

Molly looked up at him, a bit of a question in her eyes when he proceeded to stop and observe her for a moment. But his expression was soft and pleased, so whatever he was seeing in her must be something good.

Just when she was about to fill the awkward silence with something, he was leaning down to kiss her again. It was a kiss that made her toes curl in her shoes and a warmth to bloom in her chest. She often forgot that expressing these kinds of emotions was new to Sherlock. She did not think her comment was any big declaration or would effect him as such. It was simply just the truth. But comments like this always seem to surprise Sherlock. They seem to mean so very much to him and he was just so appreciative of every word. It only solidified her theory that part of the reason why Sherlock turned his emotions off a long time ago was because he felt too much.

"I do," she said as she looked up at him with an adoring smile. And she hoped he knew he deserved every word of gratitude she could give to him. "And I'm so glad to be here with you. I hope you know that."

Welcome back! :D Hope you had a great time!

[punchmeitssubtext]

His smile was slightly helpless, a rare secret softness filling the little space between them. To anyone simply walking by, he must look like nothing more than a happy bloke with his girlfriend--but Molly, close as she was, would be able to see that this was a moment with genuine meaning to him. And he knew, he knew she could always see past his masks somehow to the parts of him that mattered but that he'd never known how to deal with, and not for the first time he was grateful to be seen.

"I do." He stole another, briefer kiss from her smiling mouth. "If you haven't changed your mind about pre-dinner gelato, we can grab some before we head back."

I did! It was so nice.

[theonewhocounted]

Moments like this with Sherlock sometimes threw her off guard because they would arise almost out of the blue. One comment or note of thanks and suddenly there was a true warmth and gratitude around him centered in her direction and it could be overwhelming - to be so cherished by this man. If anyone were looking at them right now, they would probably see a woman stupid in love with her boyfriend, realizing that the feeling was entirely mutual.

"i never change my mind about gelato," she said with a smile. "I'm sure you have a specific place in mind?"