This can't get anymore awkward, probably.- JohnMolly
"The weather," Molly plowed on, "is very, uh, clear. And blue-ish. And nice. Yes, nice." She broke off lamely.
John gave a defeated little groan. "We're talking about the weather. How much more awkward can this get?"
"Well," Molly began tentatively, "Sherlock could appear mysteriously and start to mock us-"
She broke off as a figure approached them, his superior expression and melodramatic coat leaving his identity in no doubt.
"This," the detective announced to the cafe, "is why I don't do lunch-dates. They're dull, tedious, and so dull I can't think up another synonym for dull. At least at a crime scene there's always something to chat about."
"And that," John sighed, "is why no one asks you out on dates, Sherlock."
"She does," Sherlock countered, pointing at Molly, who went crimson and looked down.
"Molly," John said, "probably asks out of pity."
"No, John," Sherlock replied, seemingly puzzled, "by my deductions she asks me out because she is lonely and friendless and talks to her cat as she changes."
John's glare could have melted down steel. "Well, you have your own problems Sherlock, but I quite enjoyed eating lunch with Molly."
He leaned forward, and gave her a light peck on the cheek.
"Oh!" exclaimed Molly, and added shyly, "Thank you for saying so. And thanks for recommending the meatball sandwich. It was good."
"No problem," said John.
They exchanged smiles.
Sherlock let out a loud huff and decided to bother Lestrade, who would at least pay proper attention to him!