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Molly yawned and stretched out beneath the large comforter. Her eyes adjusted to the pale sunlight that drifted in through the window acorss the room as she looked to the digital clock next to the bed. It flashed 9:13 AM, which Molly decided was a reasonable time to begin the day. She rolled out of bed, throwing on the blue dressing gown that was thrown across the bed, and tied it tightly around her waist. (The sleeves were much too long for her, although the length wasn't too bad, even if the sleeves did make it difficult to cook in.)
She crept out of the room as quietly as she could manage, not wanting to wake her sleeping companion. He continued to snore as she made her way down the hall, offering a comforting sound in the small flat where only she stirred. Molly came to the kitchen and pulled out everything she'd need to make breakfast, simple french toast and tea.
Trying to keep everything quiet proved to be difficult, but she knew that he would be awake in minutes anyway. She cooked quickly, setting up two pieces for both of them, as well as some tea. Leaving it sitting on the kitchen table, she returned to the bedroom at the end of the hall and gazed down at her boyfriend (he actually detested the word, but she didn't care and found his protests amusing). Molly reached out a hand and combed her fingers through his thick black curls. "Sherlock," she whispered, "wake up darling."
He groaned and opened his eyes. "Good morning," Sherlock whispered groggily.
"I made you some breakfast, come on." Molly grabbed his hand and tugged on it lightly in an attempt to get him out of bed.
"Not hungry."
"Just eat the food, please? For me?" She tried to give him her best puppy dog eyes.
Sherlock groaned again. "Fine." He slid out of bed and wrapped one of the sheets tightly around him. "I also want my dressing gown back."
Molly giggled. "I made you some french toast and some tea. If you need anything just let me know." She followed him out into the kitchen and sat across from him at the table. Sherlock ate the food very slowly, and she was content to jut watch him. When they both finished, Molly moved over to him and kissed the top of his head. "So, what should we do today? You've got no new cases, John and Mary are out of town, so it's just us. We can do whatever you like."
"Oh," Sherlock crinkled his nose like a child. "Well, I suppose I'd just like to lay in bed. I'm exhausted, and it'll give me time to think."
Molly collected the dishes from the table. "Sure thing, we can do that. I'm going to shower really quick, could you wash those plates for me?"
He looked at her and sighed. "I will only clean them if you return my robe."
She sighed. "Here's your bloody dressing gown." Molly untied the waist and slid it off, leaving it on the back of one of the chairs. "Now, take care of the dirty dishes while I shower." She gave him a swift kiss before heading to the bathroom.
Molly took her time in showering, enjoying the way the steam cleared her head and the way the hot water made her feel sleepy. When she finished, she toweled off quickly and went back to the bedroom, where Sherlock lay on his back with his eyes closed. He was silent, not bothering to show that he knew Molly came in. She dressed herself in some shorts and a large teeshirt before climbing underneath the sheets and snugglingup next to Sherlock. He wrapped an arm around her back and pulled her closer to him, burying his face in her damp hair.
"Is there anything specific that you'd like to do instead of just doing nothing?" Molly asked curiously.
"We could watch a movie, if you want," Sherlock responded.
She smiled against his chest. "Oh, I've got the perfect movie in mind. I think you'll like it, maybe. Probably not though." She sat up again and retrieved a DVD case fromthe shelf that the TV rested on. Molly put it in the player and eagerly started it, smiling as she once more settled against Sherlock and the movie started playing.
"What is this?" Sherlock asked quietly.
"Shhh," Molly laughed. "You'll find out."
One by one, the characters appeared, until at last the title showed up. Dirty Dancing, it read in big letters. Molly smiled and watched the movie intently, and Sherlock stroked her hair without saying anything. She laughed and gasped and ooh'd at the appropriate times, not caring that she had already seen the movie many times. When it finished, she turned her head to look at Sherlock. "What did you think?"
He studied her face. "I think that if I tell you, you'll get offended."
Molly groaned. "All right then, Grumpy Pants. Do ypu have any suggestions for what we could do now, then?"
"Just talk to me, please. Say anything. Just talk."
"Okay..." She propped herself up on an elbow. "Uh, I found some hedgehogs for sale, and I was thinking of getting one."
Sherlock gave her a small smile and closed his eyes, continuing to play with her hair. "Good, although I don't know if Mrs. Hudson would allow one in Baker Street."
Molly laughed. "I don't know what to say."
"Tell me about your dreams from last night."
She told him about what she dreamed of last night, then the night before, then any random dreams she could remember. Sherlock listened intently, just enjoying the sound of her voice. Eventually, she stopped talking, when he fell asleep once more. She layed back down, putting one of her legs over his and pulling the sheets tight around her. She couldn't think of a better way to spend a Sunday off. Sherlock snored gently beside her and she smiled. Molly drifted off into an afternoon nap, completely content.