Disclaimer: I don't own the rights to BBC's Sherlock or Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's Sherlock Holmes or anything like that.
Two days after Sherlock arrived home for holiday he walked over to Molly's house early in hopes of surprising her. He was in a particularly good mood today. A young officer names Lestrade had contacted him the night before and asked him about a case. He had been right, eventually the police would realize they needed him.
So humming lightly to himself and near to floating with joy Sherlock was surprised to hear Molly yelling. He paused outside her door, and for a moment considered turning around, but scolding himself for being a coward he carefully opened the door, and promptly had to duck in order to avoid a high flying shoe.
Molly's back was to him. She didn't even realize Sherlock had appeared behind her as she dug through her closet. The volume of her voice fluctuated as she first mumbled to herself then practically yelling into the pile she was sorting through, and then back to a low grumble.
Sherlock stood watching Molly for a moment, at first unsure what to do. Then during one of her quieter spells he cleared his throat loudly, causing her to jump.
"Sherlock! What are you doing here?" She surprise just barely covered the distress in her voice.
"I thought I would surprise you. What are you doing?" He kept his voice as calm as possible, but he wanted to laugh. Molly was the cutest thing he had ever seen when she was this flustered.
"I lost. . . something." Molly said hesitantly and blushed profusely. What she had lost was a gift for Sherlock, a nice blue scarf because his old one was old and he never seemed to just buy a new one for himself.
"Do you need help looking for it?" The offer was a casual as any even though Sherlock could all but read Molly's embarrassment in a sans serif fount above her head.
"No!" Molly was nearly shouting. The last thing she needed was to embarrass herself further by having Sherlock help her find the figt she had bought for him.
Unsure of what to do Sherlock went on autopilot. "It is a scarf isn't it? What you are looking for. But you don't wear scarves, at least not usually, and nothing in blue because you think it washes out your skin. It isn't in your closet by the way. It is in your nightstand, probably you though I wouldn't notice it there."
Molly stared at Sherlock for a moment before standing and walking to her bedside table and pulling a paper wrapped and limp package out of the top drawer.
"You really need to explain to me how you do that someday." Molly sat on her bed and beckoned Sherlock over to her. He obliged and sat next to her. "This is for you by the way."
Molly passed Sherlock the package and watched surprised as he didn't comment, but simply opened the present. He was still quiet as he unfolded the scarf, looked it over and then experimentally wrapped it around his neck.
"Well?" Molly was extremely on edge. Nervous that Sherlock didn't like the scarf. She started fidgeting with her comforter.
"It is a nice scarf." Sherlock easily admitted, smiling softly and catching Molly's gaze. He could tell that Molly had put quite a bit of thought into this gift, and that made him feel good. "Thank you, Molly Hooper."
Molly let those four small words wash over her and she grinned, leaning forward to meet Sherlock's appreciative lip lock and let the contact calm her nerves and make her forget any stress of the day.
Authors Note: So I wrote this little chapter because today is my birthday and I felt like sharing a bit of joy! Also this is a bit of a segue chapter to them growing up some more and stuff maybe even a case in the future!