Matilda's Drabble Thread II (Sherlock)

[MyOwnPrivateSFC]

Once again, I can't add much beyond what icky and cally said. Well, except that I may now drift off to dreamland thinking of Sherlock suffering from stuck sneezes....

[Seniorstatus14]

Love sick/ or sneezy Sherlock!!

[matilda3948]

Sorry it's been a while. Still Sherlock-ing though These are all early season 3. As always, thank you for the feedback!!

#98 Cuddle

“AhhKTschhooo! Oh God, John! I’m so sorry!” Mary cried as she grabbed a tissue and wiped off his neck. John laughed as she blushed a brilliant shade of red.

“Bless you. It’s alright.” He wrapped his arm around her again and shifted so she was cuddled up against his side again.

“I was almost asleep,” she groaned. John kissed the top of her head and picked up his tablet, resuming the book he was reading.

“Never seen you with a cold this bad,” he said, absentmindedly rubbing her arm.

“Thank you for staying in with me today,” she said, pulling the blanket up around her again.

“Nowhere I’d rather be,” he said. He felt a subtle shift in her breathing and handed her a couple tissues. “Here, spare my neck this time,” he teased. He felt her body tense as her breath hitched.

Ahh Hahh…Ahhtsschhoo! HahhTSSCHHooo!

“Bless you.”

AhhTsschhhoo! Hehh Ahh…AHHHtsschhoo!!

“Bless you, Mary.”

“Sorry.” She blew her nose and then yawned.

“Come on,” John said, sliding down in the bed and drawing her close to him. “You need to get some sleep.”

#38 Family

“You sure you don’t want me to stay?” Mary asked, brushing the hair away from John’s warm forehead.

“Just a cold—you’ve been looking forward to seeing your family for…for weeks…” Mary saw the all too familiar look spread across John’s face and she handed him a couple tissues. Hehh…EHH…HuhhEHHHktschhEEWW!!! HuhEHHHHssschhhEEEW!!

“Bless you!” She was always surprised by how enormous his sneezes were.

“Sorry,” he sniffled. He coughed into the tissues and looked up to see Mary’s worried expression. “I’m okay,” he said. “Go.”

“I could call someone from your family to come look after you while I’m gone,” she said.

“I doubt any of my estranged family would have interest in—”

“That’s not who I meant,” she said. “John, you’re going to have to forgive him eventually. Like it or not, he is—”

HuhhAHHHTSSCHHeew!! Hehh HuhhahhhKTTSSSCHHEEEW!! Mary sighed.

“Bless you.”

“Thag you. Travel safely, Mary. I’ll see you in a few days.”

#34 Holiday

Going on a short holiday. John’s sick, in bed, and too weak to punch you. –M

Sherlock reread the text on his phone. Yes, he could see himself growing fond of Mary. He looped his scarf around his throat, slipped into his coat, and made his way across town to John and Mary’s flat. One expertly picked lock and Sherlock was making his way upstairs to the master bedroom. His friend was sprawled out across the bed, tangled in a mess of blankets, used tissues scattered everywhere. Sherlcok grimaced as he took in the evidence of a cold-ridden John Watson. The doctor made a choked whimpering noise and turned over on his back. Through a stream of incoherent mumbling, Sherlock made out snippets of conversation.”

“No… can’t die…please…”

Sherlock leaned over his friend and spoke in a low, clear voice.

“John, you’re not dying. It’s a dream. You are not dying.”

“Save him…can’t…Sherlock!!” He bolted upright, beads of sweat breaking across his forehead.

“John? John, it was nightmare,” Sherlock said. He watched his friend scan the room (mild fever, he thought) before the panic subsided. “Just a nightmare,” Sherlock repeated, hesitantly sitting down on the side of the bed.

“It certainly was,” John said, scrubbing a hand over his face. He pulled the last two tissues from the box next to his bed. HuhhKTSSCHHEEEW! HehhUhh…Huhh EhhuhhhSNGTSSCHHHHeeew!

“You sound disgusting,” Sherlock said.

“Why are you here?” John wiped his red nose with the balled up tissues.

“Mary said she’d gone on holiday and you were ill.”

“No, I beed…” he paused and sniffled thickly. “I beed why are you here?” Sherlock made a herculean effort not to roll his eyes and pulled a handkerchief from his jacket pocket. He held it out to John who seemed reluctant to accept even the smallest kindness from Sherlock—as if the slope was so slippery he couldn’t risk a single gesture of goodwill.

“Oh for God’s sake, John, you’re practically dripping,” Sherlock snapped. John snatched the handkerchief and gave his nose a quick blow before leveling Sherlock with a glare. The detective sighed—he was awful at this sort of thing. “I’m here because…John I’m…” He shook his head slightly. “John, I’m here,” he finally said. After a prolonged silence, he stood. “I can go though.” He’d made to the bedroom door before John spoke.

“Stay.”

#7 Cheesy

“No John, those are awful,” Mary said after taking one look at the floral arrangement he’d suggested.

“What’s wrong with them?” he asked.

“She thinks they’re cheesy,” Sherlock said, working on another origami napkin.

“But carnations are what I bought you on our first date,” John said. “You said you loved them.”

“She was just being nice,” Sherlock said. “Look. A fish.” He held up a linen napkin in the form of a koi fish. Afraid John was about to question her about her true feelings about carnations, Mary pressed on.

“What about lilac?”

“No!” both men said.

“What? Why? They’re lovely.”

“I’m a bit allergic,” Sherlock said.

“That’s the understatement of the year,” John said.

“Really? Hard to imagine you with allergies,” Mary said.

“Get him within ten feet of lilac and you’re in for a show. Gets all red and itchy, tears streaming down his face—”

“You’re exaggerating.”

“And the sneezing! Has to keep his face buried in a handkerchief. Sometimes he’ll have a fit so bad he can’t even talk through it. Hmm…so maybe lilacs.”

“John,” Mary said, a touch of reproach in her voice.

“Fine. I guess you’re back to the cheesy carnations.”

[cally]

*flails*

I hope to see lilac!allergic Sherlock in the near future.

[MyOwnPrivateSFC]

What cally said!

[matilda3948]

*flails*

I hope to see lilac!allergic Sherlock in the near future.

With pleasure The first one deals with Sherlock's allergy. The second is an angsty Mary and John piece (season 3 spoilers) because I just love them and their complicated, sad, sweet story arch. Also, (as usual) these are waaaay longer than the traditional 100 word drabble. Figured no one would really mind

#2 Forever

John was beginning to think Sherlock’s allergy attack might go on forever. Even after getting back to Baker Street, he was afflicted with regular sneezing fits and his nose and eyes were spectacularly red.

“Here. Antihistamine,” John said, holding out his hand.

“No. I can’t thig whed I—”

“You have hives, haven’t gone two minutes without sneezing, and I can barely understand a word you’re saying. Shut up and take the pill.”

***

They’d been called to the home of a reclusive murdered heiress just outside of London. Sherlock took two steps into her bedroom when an odd look crossed his face. If John had to name it, he’d likely settle on trepidation. The consulting detective moved around the room quickly, cataloguing evidence and observations as he went. Suddenly, John heard an odd squelched noise. He looked over to see Sherlock with his fist pressed against the underside of his nose, his eyes clenched shut.

“Sherlock?”

HhhNGST! His head bobbed forward, hair flopping across his face.

“Bless you?” John still wasn’t sure what he’d heard. However when Sherlock finally opened his eyes and lowered his hand, John’s suspicions were confirmed. “You alright?” he asked.

HhhNTSHH! He doubled over, sneezing into his hands. He drew a purple handkerchief from his pocket and held it to his nose.

“Allergic,” he mumbled. John frowned.

“To what?” Sherlock waived a hand in the general direction of a large vase of flowers while his eyes narrowed and his mouth went slack. Hehh Hihhh… He gave a congested sniff and seemed frozen on the edge of sneezing. He stayed poised with the handkerchief inches from his flaring nose, then finally launched into a sneezing fit.

Hehh Huhh HehhNTSCHH! GNTschh! HehSNTSCHH! HhhKTSCHH! EhhSNCHHoo!

“Christ, Sherlock! Come on, let’s get out of here,” John said, nudging the sneezing detective towards the door.

HhhNTSHHoo! Hhh HehNTCHH! HEHHSGSCHH!! Hehh Hihh HehhGSSSCHHoo!

“Bless you,” John said. Sherlock shook his head violently and rubbed his eyes, which had begun to water profusely. John also noted patches of red beginning to spread across Sherlock’s neck. “You are really allergic, aren’t you?”

HehhGTSSHH! “Thank you HehhSNTSCHH! for HuhKTSSCHHoo! stating HehSGSSHHoo! the obvioAHHSGSHHH! obvious.” Despite the withering glare, John couldn’t help but laugh.

“Is your breathing alright?” Sherlock nodded, but didn’t dare open his mouth again. “Do you know which flowers set you off?”

“Lilahh HehhNTSCHH! SNGCHHoo! Lilacs.”

“Bless you. Well you are Sherlock Holmes. I suppose even your allergies have to be exceptional.”

#21 Hope

Mary was beginning to lose hope that he’d ever speak to her again. It had been days since he’d looked her in the eye, much less spoken a word to her. Truthfully, she was surprised he was even still staying in the house—albeit in the spare bedroom. She didn’t blame him, but she did miss him. They could be in the same room and still be a million miles apart.

She rolled over in their bed and groaned. The cold she’d been fighting for the last few days seemed to have finally gotten the upper hand because she felt awful. After trying to clear her throat several times Mary succumbed to a raspy cough that left her throat stinging. She wondered if John was home or if he’d gone out. As much as she wanted tea, she wasn’t sure she could bear another cold encounter with her husband. She settled for a drink of water from the bathroom and snagged a box of tissues on her way back to bed. AhhKTschhoo! HehhAHHNTSCHHooo! The force of the second sneeze made her eyes water. She blew her nose and grabbed a couple fresh tissues before laying back down in bed.

Her heart broke a little when he knocked on the door before coming into their bedroom, but she felt a little surge of hope when she saw he had a tray of things with him. John put some toast and a mug of tea down on the bedside table. She reached for the drink.

“Wait,” he said. He retrieved a thermometer from the bathroom and held it out to her, standing next to the bed with his arms crossed. When it beeped she handed it back to him without even looking at it. She rubbed her nose when it began to itch afraid that sneezing might scare off any conversation John was leading up to. Hahh Ahh…Ahhh AhhehhhGNTCHHooo! John’s jaw stiffened—anger and good manners fighting for control.

“Sorry,” she whispered, once again breaking their silence with an apology.

“You can’t take any medication,” he said.

“I know.” He reached down and felt the glands on either side of her neck. It was the first time he’d touched her since…since everything, but it was a doctor’s touch. Cold. Clinical.

“Painful to swallow?” he asked in a clipped tone.

“A bit”

“Is the congestion just in your head or is it in your chest too?”

“Just in my heehh…Ahh…by head…” AhhGNMCHHooo! HahhSNCHHooo! She grabbed several tissues and blew her nose.

“Bless you.”

“Thank you.” It was the first glimpse of her husband she’d seen in ages, but it was gone as quickly as it had arrived.

“Right. I’m going to the hospital. It’s important that you eat today even if you’re not hungry.”

“Okay.”

“And if you feel this cold start to settle in your chest you call me. Immediately,” he said.

“Okay.”

“I’m serious, Mary. No waiting around. Any wheezing, shortness of breath, anything like that and I am your first phone call.”

“I understand.”

“You don’t have the luxury of waiting when you’re pregnant. Anything feels out of the ordinary and you pick up the phone.” She nodded, tears pricking her eyes.

John turned and started to walk away.

“Thank you,” she said. He mumbled something as his hand reached the doorknob. “What did you say?” she asked.

“I said I wasn’t doing it for you.”

[cally]

As usual you didn't disappoint! Loved the fit; poor Sherlock! You also got the angst down between Mary and John perfectly.

Thank you for sharing

[tma]

*grins* I must be very behind in my reading. I LOVE your drabbles, and honestly the longer the better. They are brilliant- totally in character even down to the "wrongness" that you put with each character- just brilliant- I can hear and see these playing in my mind.

Love them!

[VoOs]

Oh dear. Sherlock VS lilacs. Is it hot in here or...? *fans self*

Also: His Last Vow angst. Ow, my heart.

[matilda3948]

Thank you to everyone for you kind comments!! I appreciate the sweet feedback I just love writing these characters!

Also: His Last Vow angst. Ow, my heart.

Ugh. I know! That episode...just...ouch! There will be more of those. Anytime I come up with an idea I end up just rewriting/stealing something from your awesome story because I love it so much.

Okay, so without further ado...

#51 Roar

Lestrade put his car in park and then took out his handkerchief and gave his nose a fierce blow. The very last thing he wanted to do was sneeze at the crime scene. He was always embarrassed by how load his sneeze was. No matter what he tried, he had an enormous roar of a sneeze—often startling the people around him. He was coming down with a cold and was sneezing fairly frequently. Sometimes he could get a decent break from it after blowing his nose.

Sadly, this did not seem to be one of those times. Just as he thought it was safe to get out of the car and get to work, Greg was suddenly overcome with a huge sneeze. HuuhhRAHHHSSCHHOOO! His head nearly hit the steering wheel as his body jerked forward. Huhh HUHH HuhhRAHHHHscchhooo!! He dug his handkerchief out again and began to blow his nose. A sudden pounding on the glass caused him to jerk his head to the right.

“Hurry up, Graham,” Sherlock called. Lestrade threw the door open.

“Greg. By dame is Greg and I kndow you kndow that.”

“Bless you, Greg.”

HuuhrahhhhSSCHHOOO!!

#6 Leap

HhhNGTshh! KTschh!

"Bless you."

"This is absurd," Sherlock dragging a handkerchief under his pink nose again. The brush of fabric against his nose triggered another couple sneezes. HehhSNCHH! HhGTCHHoo! He groaned and flopped down in his chair.

"Bless you," John repeated with a small shake of his head. "You need to get some sleep. That's what caused the problem in the first place."

"Don't be stupid."

"Honestly, it doesn't take a huge leap in logic to see that not eating, sleeping, and working ludicrously long hours is going to lead to illness," John said. He walked over to Sherlock and pressed a hand to his forehead. "You should take something. You're running a bit of a fever."

"I'm bored."

"Sorry, I don't have a pill for that," John said, going into the kitchen to get a glass of water and paracetamol. "Here." He held them out to the ill consulting detective, but he shook his head. "Sherlock, stop being a child and take the medi--"

HhNGTSCHH! NTCHshh! Huhh hhKTSCHHoo! He sneezed into his hands and gave a thick sniffle before finally getting to his handkerchief. John sighed.

"Sorry. Thought you were just being stubborn." He held out the pills again and this time the other man took them without hesitation.

"It wouldn't have been a huge leap," Sherlock said.

"Definitely not."

#36 Babysitting

If there was such a thing as a PhD in Babysitting, John Watson would be a doctor twice over, and his specialty would babysitting ill consulting detectives.

“Johd? Johd, I’b out of tissues,” Sherlock called from his nest of blankets on the sofa. John rolled his eyes and got up from the kitchen table. He opened a fresh box of tissues and brought them to Sherlock just as he began to sneeze again. HhhNTSHHoo! HehKTSSH! “Ugh. I’b dying.” John held the box out to him and Sherlock snatched several tissues. HhhMNTCHHoo!

“Bless you. You’re not dying. You just have a cold.”

“Dying!”

John sat down on the sofa next to him. Sherlock sniffled and rubbed his nose in the tissues. He did look genuinely miserable, feverish and even paler than usual. Hehh…Huhh hhhGNXT! “Oh, God,” he groaned after stifling a sneeze.

“That’s gonna hurt.”

“Do you ever get tired of stating the obvious?” Sherlock asked, reaching for the tissues again. HuhhNTSHHoo! HhhSNCCHHoo!

“Bless you.”

“Thag you.” John frowned. Politeness from Sherlock was a distressing symptom. He watched him sink forward and rest his head in his hands. John reached over and rubbed Sherlock’s shoulder. “Johd, I don’t feel well,” he whispered.

“Yeah, I know. Come on, maybe watching some television will bore you enough to fall asleep.” John turned on the TV and then put one of the sofa pillows on his legs. Sherlock laid back down, hugging his box of tissues to his chest, his head settling on John’s lap. Still sensing that his roommate was restless, John played his ace card. He let one hand come to rest on top of Sherlock’s head and slowly ran his fingers through his hair.

Two minutes later, Sherlock’s congested snoring filled the apartment.

John Watson, MD…and PhD in Sherlock-sitting.

[Spoo]

It pleases me more than I'm capable of admitting how all of us have adopted the headcanon that Lestrade is a ferocious sneezer. And hah! Sherlock will never get poor Greg's name right. Loved the update!

[cally]

Oh! SO lovely! I don't even know where to begin!

[AngelEyes]

Oooh. Patterns. Love that John has a pattern and that Sherlock of course has it pegged. That's a total trigger for me! Mmmm!

And Pebbles. I love John solving the problem and Sherlock being annoyed that he didn't figure it out earlier! LOL!

“Bless you. Well you are Sherlock Holmes. I suppose even your allergies have to be exceptional.”

Obviously!

"I'm bored."

"Sorry, I don't have a pill for that," John said

Classic!

“Bless you. You’re not dying. You just have a cold.”

“Dying!”

So Sherlock! Bring on the melodrama!

Soooo Loving these!!!!!!

[matilda3948]

Hi all! First, thank you for all the feedback. I really, really appreciate it. Also, a big thank you to all the other awesome folks writing Sherlock fics right now. There's so much Sherlock-y goodness right now.

I was also wondering if anyone would mind if I switched to Garnet's drabble prompts. I'm having a hard time with the random words and it's I love working on prompts that other people are using at the same time. If there's a word that someone gave me that you really want me to write, just message me and I'll definitely do it. Now then...I'm starting a sick Molly series. These will probably be the last ones off my random word list.I hope that's okay

#23 Work

Molly sighed and rubbed her nose in a handful of tissues. Coming to work may have been a mistake—she was really starting to feel miserable. Just two more autopsies and she could go home.

“Molly, I need your centrifuge.” Sherlock strode into the lab already mid-sentence. “I need to test a murder victim’s platelet count. I’m working on the theory that—”

ahhtschoo! Ahhschhooo! AhhTSCHHoo! AhhKTSCHHOO! Heh-AHHSSCHOOOO!! Molly blushed as she sniffled and grabbed for more tissues.

“Why are you here?” Sherlock asked.

“I work here.” He rolled his eyes.

“No I mean why are you at work if you’re sick?”

“Just a bit of a cold,” she said, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. Sherlock’s eyes narrowed and he took a step closer to her, silently cataloguing observations as he went.

“You’ve been feeling ill for three, maybe four, days now. It started as a cold, but your congestion has gotten worse not better. Given the shade of your nose, you’ve obviously been sneezing and blowing your nose excessively. You’re squinting slightly and that, combined with your low-grade fever, indicates a developing bacterial infection.”

Molly stared back at him with her mouth slightly agape.

#78 Bridge

Molly looked like she was ready to argue, but shrugged and sat down at her desk. He was probably right. This was Sherlock Holmes after all.

“Come on. We’re don’t want to keep John waiting,” Sherlock said.

“John? What’s John waiting for?”

“He’s on his way to your flat.”

“Why?” Molly asked.

“To examine you.”

“How did he know I was sick?”

“I just texted him,” Sherlock said. Molly pinched the bridge of her nose. “You’re going to sneeze,” he added. Sure enough, a few seconds later, Molly’s nose twitched and she grabbed a couple tissues from the box on her desk. She held them a few inches from her face and took a couple shaky breaths before sneezing.

Heh Hehh HhKschhoo! AhhSHHoo! AhhSCHHoo! AhhTSCHOO! HehAHHKSSCHHOO!!

“I’b sorry,” she said.

“Hmm.”

“What?”

“You have a distinct sneezing pattern when you’re ill. Five sneeze, in quick succession, each increasing in intensity and volume.”

“So?”

“Sounds unpleasant,” he said.

“It is.”

#3 Blue

Despite her best efforts, Molly had to blow her nose—the last round of sneezing had left her sniffling regularly and that was threatening to make her cough. She turned her back to Sherlock and emptied her nose into several tissues.

“Sorry,” she said when she was done.

“Why?”

“I’m kind of gross.”

“You can’t control your body’s mucous production.” Once again Molly was struck speechless. “Molly?”

“Yeah?”

“Let’s go.”

Her head was fuzzy and she was glad to have someone else making decisions so she followed Sherlock out of the hospital and waiting while he hailed a cab. He held the door open and she slid inside first. Sherlock gave her address to the driver and then pressed a hand to her forehead.

“Your fever’s up,” he said.

“Figured. I’m cold.” Seconds later Sherlock’s nimble fingers were looping his dark blue scarf around her neck, knotting it loosely at her throat. It was still warm and she gave him a lopsided smiled.

“Did you bring tissues with you?” he asked.

“Yeah, why?” She instantly raised a hand to her nose, horrified at the thought that her nose might be running.

“Going to sneeze again.”

“Oh.” She pulled a couple tissues from her coat pocket and waited. Sure enough:

Ahh Hahh…Hhhschoo! hahTschhoo! AhhKSCHoo! AHHssschhoo! HehAHHNTSSCHHOOO!!

“Bless you.”

“Thag you.” She sniffled thickly.

“Blow your nose.”

“I’b okay.” He raised an eyebrow and she turned towards the window, giving her nose the slightest blow possible. “Excuse me,” she said.

“Oh, Molly Hooper.”

[cally]

“Oh, Molly Hooper.”

Oh Molly Hooper indeed! These are so touching and adorable!

[matilda3948]

“Oh, Molly Hooper.”

Oh Molly Hooper indeed! These are so touching and adorable!

Thanks!! I love Molly. I'm enjoying this little arch I'm working on with her. Hope others like it too I tried something a little different with the storytelling in these.

#10 Worried

“What took you so long?” Sherlock snapped as he let John into Molly’s flat.

“I was at work. Couldn’t just drop everything and run out the door. Now where is she?”

“Sleeping. Her fever was 38.3 by the time we got here.” John crossed his arms and frowned.

“What are her other symptoms?”

“Sore throat, congestion, sinus pain, some coughing and persistent sneezing.” Sherlock rattled off Molly’s symptoms and John swore he detected a hint of…what? Worry perhaps, in his voice.

“Probably flu,” John said.

“It’s not flu.”

“How would you know?”

“She gets her flu shot every fall which, although doesn’t completely immunize, does lessen the severity of symptoms and I would definitely classify her symptoms as severe. She’s had a cold all week and it’s likely settling into her sinuses, her lungs or, most likely, both. I thought I detected a slight wheeze in her breathing as she fell asleep.”

Huh. He was worried. John smirked and said,

“Hardly seems like you need me, Dr. Holmes.”

“Oh shut up, John,” he said. “You know very well I can’t write prescriptions. The judge made it very clear that if I did that again… Well, you were there.” They paused outside Molly’s door and when John saw Sherlock had every intention of following him in and observing (and no doubt critiquing) his examination, he stopped.

“Sherlock, give her a bit of privacy while I look her over.” He looked ready to argue and John cut him off. “Why not go make her some tea? I’m going to have to wake her up and I’m sure it would make her feel better.”

“Right. Tea. Get to work, doctor.”

#8 Fever

As soon as Sherlock had retreated, John quietly opened the door to Molly’s room. He put his bag down and sat on the edge of her bed, feeling her forehead and side of her face. Definitely a fever. That would have to be the first thing they addressed.

“Molly,” he called gently. “It’s John. Can you wake up for a moment?” Slowly she stirred and opened her eyes, only to wince and shut them tightly again. “Headache?” John asked. She nodded and rubbed her forehead. John got up and pulled the curtains in her room, significantly cutting down on the light.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

“Sherlock wasn’t kidding when he said you were ill.” He grabbed a pillow and helped prop her up in a sitting position.

“Been fighting it all week, but it really hit me haahh ahh hard today.” There was a box of tissues on her nightstand and John handed her a couple. Molly turned her head and sneezed into the tissues. ahhtschoo! HhhKtschh! AhhTSCHHoo! AhhhSSCHHOO! HehhAHHNTSSCHHOOOO!!

“Goodness, bless you Molly!”

“Ugh. Thag you.” She sniffled and wiped her nose. “I’b sorry.”

“It’s alright. Blow your nose. You’ll feel better,” John said, noting how thick her speech was. He put the box of tissues on the bed next to her and she reluctantly followed his advice. “Better?” he asked. Molly nodded. “Can I examine you?” Another nod.

#82 Tears

John opened his bag and took out a penlight. He lifted her head and instructed her to open her mouth.

“Larynx is inflamed, probably why your voice is strained. Tonsils look alright though.” When John looked up he saw tears in her eyes. “Hey, what’s wrong?” he asked, frowning. “Did I hurt you?” She shook her head and quickly wiped the tears away, but her bottom lip trembled. John put a hand on her shoulder. “Molly, what is it?” he asked.

“Nothing,” she whispered. “I’m sorry.” John frowned and squeezed her shoulder.

“There’s nothing to be sorry for. Everyone gets sick.”

“What did you do?” Sherlock’s said from the doorway, his eyes fixed on John.

“I didn’t do anything.”

“Then why is she crying?” he demanded.

“What happened to giving us privacy while I examined her?” John asked, standing up.

“Since when do doctor’s make their patients cry?”

“I didn’t make her cry. She just started crying.”

“You must have done something to—”

“Sherlock!” Molly called, bringing the argument to a close. Unfortunately, the action caused her to cough harshly into her hands. That noise caused the doctor’s ears to perk up but before he could blink, Sherlock had pushed past him and handed Molly a cup of tea. “Thank you,” she whispered after getting the spasm to calm down.

“What did John do?”

“Nothing. I just…I…” Her eyes filled with tears again. “I don’t like being sick is all.”

“No one likes being sick, Molly. That’s not it. Why are you upset?”

“Sherlock don’t interrogate her when she’s—”

“Shut up, John,” he said, though his eyes never left Molly’s. John sighed and threw his hands up in the air. She whispered something that John couldn’t hear, but Sherlock did. He frowned and seemed to reconsider the young pathologist. Slowly, he leaned forward and whispered something in her ear. A few tears slipped from her eyes, but she gave him a tiny smile and nodded. Sherlock wiped the tears off her face with his thumb and stood up, turning to John.

“Meet me downstairs when you’re done with your exam.

#81 Confess

“No one likes being sick, Molly. That’s not it. Why are you upset?”

“Sherlock don’t interrogate her when she’s—”

“Shut up, John,” he said, though his eyes never left Molly’s.

“I always feel like such a burden,” she confessed. Sherlock couldn’t have more surprised if she’d slapped him across the face—which she’d done before. Admittedly, he was never good with sentiment, but he couldn’t believe she felt like a burden. Not after everything she’d done for him. Sherlock leaned forward and brought his lips close to her ear. He could feel the heat coming from her fevered skin, but he closed his eyes and focused on finding the right words.

“One day, Molly, I shall convince you that you matter. You matter most profoundly. Until then, can you accept my assurance that nothing you do will ever be a burden to me?” He looked her in the eye and she nodded, a tear slipping from each eye. He wiped them away and felt how hot her face was; he needed to let John get back to work.

“Meet me downstairs when you’re done with your exam,” he said.

#94 Weird

“Shut up, John,” he said, though his eyes never left Molly’s.

John felt like an intruder watching what happened next. He didn’t pretend to understand Sherlock and Molly’s weird relationship. Not romantic (at least not from Sherlock’s side), but there was a closeness, an intimacy that John couldn’t explain. He silently watched their exchange. Whatever Molly said surprised Sherlock—not an easy feat. Then he watched his friend, for whom sarcasm and borderline cruelty came so naturally, whisper something in her ear and brush the tears from her face.

“Meet me downstairs when you’re done with your exam,” he said, finally turning his attention back to John.

hhTSCHH! AhhNSCHoo! AhhhSCHHOO! AHHsnsschhOOO!

“Bless you,” John said.

“She’s not done.” Seconds later, Molly pitched forward with a ferocious sneeze HehhAHHHSSSNCHOOOO!! “Always five when she's ill,” Sherlock said, leaving the room and pulling the door shut behind him.

John resumed his position on the side of her bed and pulled a stethoscope out his bag. He didn’t mention the last few minutes, acutely aware that Sherlock and Molly’s exchange was meant to be private.

“Take a few deep breaths for me,” he said, placing the head of the stethoscope against her chest. After a few repetitions, John heard it too—the wheeze that Sherlock had mentioned earlier. She winced when he pressed the sinus cavities above her eyes and on either side of her nose and the glands along her neck were tender as well. “Aw, Molly, you must feel like rubbish,” John said, putting everything back in his bag.

“I do.” She took a sip of tea as she watched John dig out his prescription pad and a pen.

“May have started as a head cold, but you’ve definitely got a sinus infection and are on your way to bronchitis.”

“I haven’t been coughing much,” she said.

“That’s the problem. It’s all settling in your airways just breeding bacteria. I’m going to write you a couple of scripts. Antibiotics, decongestant, and an expectorant to try and break up the congestion in your chest. I’m sorry, it’s going to make you cough but you need to clear your lungs. I’ll run these down to the chemist and get you some paracetamol to try and bring your fever down a bit. Couple days and you should be feeling better.”

“Thank you, John,” she said. He patted her leg through the blanket and smiled.

“Happy to help. Why don’t you rest a bit while I get your medications filled?” She nodded brought a few tissues to her red nose. Hhh Heh ahhTSCH! HhhNTsschoo! AhhKTSCHHoo! HahhTSSSHHOO!

She froze with the tissues still pressed to her nose. They both waited silently until…Hhh Hehh HehAHHSSNTSCHHOOOOO!!

“Bless you, Molly.”

“Thags Johd.”

[Spoo]

Okay, I'm really adoring how Molly's getting some love. I firmly believe that the forum could use more of this precious mouse; she's such a sweetheart! Thank you for writing her.

[cally]

Awwww, these were so sweet and sensitive and cuddly kittens and love.

[ID2006]

I love when Sherlock has his sweet bits.

[tma]

Awwww.... just *way* too sweet

I also really liked the way you did the scene the from 3 points of view- very nicely done!

[matilda3948]

I love when Sherlock has his sweet bits.

I kind of go a little overboard with the sweet bits in this one...but I don't really care

#44 Relief

Molly felt horrendous. She wasn’t sure how long she’d been asleep, but she definitely felt worse than she did before. She rubbed her forehead and rolled over, her eyes falling on an odd sight. Sherlock Holmes was sitting in the rocking chair in the corner of her bedroom, fingertips pressed together, resting at his lips as though he was contemplating a case.

“Now that you’re awake, I’ll get your medications. John had several filled for you.” Molly tried to ask how long she had been asleep, but her throat was on fire and she began to cough. Sherlock came a few steps closer to the bed, a hard look on his face. Her coughing died down though and he went to the kitchen to retrieve her pills and a glass of water. When he returned, he found Molly blowing her nose into a handful of tissues. He put the pills on the bedside table and settled back in his chair, resuming his thoughtful posture. Elevated fever, intense congestion, headache, he thought.

hhntschh! Ahhtsch! Ahh AHHKTSCHH! HahhNTSCHHOO! HehhAHHHNMTSSCHHHOOO!

Violent sneezing.

“Thag you for the medicine,” she said.

Moderate laryngitis.

“Be sure to thank John for looking in on me.” Molly blushed as Sherlock continued to study her. She took the pills and drank most of the water. “Um…Sherlock…why are you staring at me?”

“What would bring you some relief?” He finally asked, leaning forward in the chair.

“What?”

“What would make you feel better?”

“Um…there’s not really much to do.” Her voice trailed off and she hastily grabbed a tissue. ahhtsch! TSHHHoo! Another tissue and another two sneezes. Heh AhhNTSCHHoo! HahhMNTSCHHooo! She managed to swap out tissues one more time before the final sneeze. HehhAhhhhMPHTSSHHOOOO!! She groaned and rubbed her throat. Sherlock suddenly stood up and paced the room.

“You have a problem and problems have solutions,” he said. Molly tried to respond but succumbed to more coughing. Sherlock ran a hand through his hair. “What should I do?” he asked.

“Sherlock, you don’t have to do anything. I’m okay,” she whispered. He shook his head.

“What would a normal person do?”

“A normal person?”

“If I weren’t me. If I were one of your friends, what would I do to make you feel better?” he asked. Molly blinked in shock and took a minute to gather her thoughts. “I don’t know how to do this,” he said, waving a hand in her general direction. She sniffled and cleared her throat,

“Okay, well you could get me some more water?” He immediately grabbed the glass and refilled it, then stood at her bedside awaiting instructions. “I think there’s another box of tissues under my bathroom sink,” she said. Again he returned like an obedient (if anxious) retriever. “Um…you could…you could sit with me for a few minutes. I mean, you don’t have to,” she amended quickly. Sherlock walked around to the other side of the bed and sat down, leaned back against the headboard and hesitantly put his feet up on the bed. He looked like a loaded spring. “Sherlock you don’t have to—”

“This is what a normal person would do?” he asked quietly. She nodded and slid down in the bed, the last half hour having drained her energy. hhhNGTSH! AhhMPFTSSHHoo! AhhSNTSCHHoo! HahhMNSSCHHOOO! ehhAHHHKTSSCHHOOO!!

“Scuse be,” she said.

“Bless you, Molly.” She yawned and pulled the blanket up almost to her chin. As her eyes closed she felt his hand come to rest on her head. Long fingers mechanically moved over her head until, eventually, Sherlock lost some of his initial awkwardness and she started to relax. “Am I doing this right?” he asked.

“MmmHmm. Sherlock?”

“Yes?”

“You may not be ‘normal’ but you know you’re my friend, right?”

[AngelEyes]

“Hardly seems like you need me, Dr. Holmes.”

“Oh shut up, John,” he said. “You know very well I can’t write prescriptions. The judge made it very clear that if I did that again… Well, you were there.”

Hysterical! And I can so imagine it! Of course he would....

[AngelEyes]

“What did you do?” Sherlock’s said from the doorway, his eyes fixed on John.

“I didn’t do anything.”

“Then why is she crying?” he demanded.

“What happened to giving us privacy while I examined her?” John asked, standing up.

“Since when do doctor’s make their patients cry?”

“I didn’t make her cry. She just started crying.”

“You must have done something to—”

Um. Yeah. Totally. The dynamics of the two of them, you've got them.

And then the last one, Sherlock all "If I was normal, what would I do?" Because of course he knows he's not normal. He's totally out of depth but he's trying and it's adorable! I love it!!!

[cally]

“If I weren’t me. If I were one of your friends, what would I do to make you feel better?” he asked. Molly blinked in shock and took a minute to gather her thoughts. “I don’t know how to do this,” he said, waving a hand in her general direction. She sniffled and cleared her throat,

Awww. Poor awkward Sherlock.

This entire drabble- adorable and sweet!

[VoOs]

“If I weren’t me. If I were one of your friends, what would I do to make you feel better?” he asked. Molly blinked in shock and took a minute to gather her thoughts. “I don’t know how to do this,” he said, waving a hand in her general direction.

I can so hear him say this. It's one of those things that are funny and sad at the same time.

This is such a sweet story. <3

EDIT: haha, cally! Great minds think alike (and post at the same time)?