A/N: This came to me while I was making breakfast, dancing around the kitchen. Enjoy this little Sherlolly fluff.
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Molly Hooper was now used to the insufferable object of her affections living with her. So she never screamed anymore if he interrupted her dancing along to her music while she cooked. She just ignored him while Sherlock petulantly demanded breakfast, and not just any breakfast oh no. Each drop of honey had to be from a rare type of bee, nothing mixed, every egg must come from a farm in Devon and God forbid if the beans were the cheap version that her minimal salary just covered.
At first Molly had pandered to Sherlock's needs, but with a rapidly diminishing budget, an increasing headache and an irritation Sherlock didn't think simple Molly Hooper was capable of, they came to blows. Sherlock had actually been stunned into silence when she screamed at him, she'd thrown a squeezy plastic bottle of honey at his forehead then stormed out.
That was months ago and now thy lived in relative harmony, with compromises on both Sherlock's and Molly's behalf. He still expected breakfast but with what she could afford, not what he demanded.
"You listen to some rubbish Molly." Sherlock turned down One Direction and sat at the breakfast bar.
"It's better than listening to a violin at two in the morning." She pulled the frying pan out and cracked a couple of eggs into a mug.
"I was bored."
"I was tired." She retorted before setting the bacon frying on the grill. "Sherlock can you get the dishes and cutlery please." She turned the music back and continued to dance. Sherlock snorted, she really was a sight; oversized t-shirt barely covered the shorts she wore to bed, leaving her legs bare to anyone who wanted to stare. Sherlock only stared for scientific purposes of course.
Only for scientific purposes...He reminded his errant brain as the shirt lifted a little as she moved.