Sherlolly Oneshots

Sick

 Sorry if this chapter is a little cheesy and quick 0.0

Happy sherlolly appreciation week!

~

(Molly's POV)

Molly awoke in bed, feeling absolutely awful. Her stomach ached, and her throat was scratchy. She decided to take a sick day, quite relived since if she went she would have to deal with Sherlock again.

Molly went through the day very easily, watching boring sitcoms, wrapping up in blankets, and drinking tea. She wished someone would be there to comfort and take care of her, but being single at the moment meant otherwise. But of course, she knew she really only wanted one particular consulting detective to be that person.

A few hours passed, and she heard someone knock on the door. Since she was sick, and didn't really feel like getting up, she decided to keep on reading her book. 3 minutes pass, and the mystery person pounded on the door again. Molly finally got up, and peered through the window to see a man dressed in a long trench coat, with his flaps up. 

That man could only be identified as Sherlock Holmes.

Molly opened up the door, only slightly so that just her pajama dressed body could be seen.

"What are you doing here Sherlock?" asked Molly in a raspy voice.

"Why weren't you at work today?," asked Sherlock urgently.

"What? Sherlock, I'm just sick, I took the day off. It's really not a big deal. It's not like the world revolves around you and your cases," Molly replied, annoyed, "Is there a real reason you're here?"

"Erm, I was wondering if I could get John on the phone, so he could diagnose you?" asked Sherlock, pulling out his phone.

"No Sherlock, I just have a bug. I've had it before, and it's usually gone with rest in like a day or two," answered Molly.

"Oh...Can I come in? I could help take care of you..." asked Sherlock. Molly realized that he was making an effort to talk to her. At this time he would usually be on a case, and he was looking for reasons to spend time with her.

"Uh, yes of course. It's a bit messy, sorry about that," said Molly, trying to contain her excitement. 

"No, it's okay, mine is usually ten times messier," claimed Sherlock, as they both chuckled.

At least you're aware, thought Molly. 

Molly was still wondering why Sherlock was so worried about Molly missing work. Maybe it was his recent case. After the fall, he must've been more aware of how his friends were involved in those crimes. But Molly remembered that she took a sick day a few months ago, and he didn't care as much as he did now. In fact, that day, he didn't care at all. She couldn't help herself but to ask.

"What's gotten into you Sherlock?" Molly asked, Sherlock making her tea.

"Um, well, today I wanted to tell you something," said Sherlock. Molly knew that it would just be that he lost some body parts from the morgue or something.

"What is it?" asked Molly, taking her tea.

"I...think I love you."

Molly nearly spat out her tea. He had completely caught her off guard, but Molly noticed that a smile was creeping on her face.

"I'm so sorry, maybe this wasn't the right time...ugh, I regret all my life choices," said Sherlock, putting his head in his palm.

"No no no no no, I love you too Sherlock! I love you to the stars and above, and I have been for years. I just... couldn't tell you," answered Molly, tiredness crawling upon her.

"You should get some sleep. We'll talk more when you wake up," said Sherlock, getting up from the couch.

"Okay," agreed Molly, wishing she could talk more, but figured it was for the best she would get sleep.

An hour passes, and Molly woke up, to find herself underneath the huge trench coat of Sherlock's. On the coffee table, there was a note that read:

I had to run. How does dinner sound on Friday night?

Get well, my sweet Molly.

xoxo

-SH