“I hate everyone,” Molly announced as she burst through the flat door.
“So bad day was it?” Sherlock asked looking up from his laptop though he already had known the answer by the sound of her heavy footsteps on the stairs.
“I don’t even know where to begin,” she sighed heavily as she flung her coat onto a nearby chair and unwound the scarf from her neck. “I spent more time dealing with other people’s problems and fixing mistakes than I did on my own work. Meanwhile I have a stack of paperwork piling up on my desk and a research paper deadline that is fast approaching. I finally had to escape to the morgue in the afternoon just so I could breathe and deal with people who weren’t incompetent.”
“The only reason being that they are deceased,” he said catching her drift.
“Funny how that works,” she quietly murmured as she fell into his lap and rested her head on his shoulder.
He could feel her pulse racing against his chest, beating out-of-rhythm against his own. He drew his arms around her shoulders and brushed away a few strands of hair that had escaped from its ponytail.
“I hope you weren’t including me in ‘everyone’.”
“No. Everyone but you. Somehow you always manage to be completely wonderful.”
“Good, because I hate to break it to you, Molly, but besides you and me, people are complete idiots.”
The tension in her muscles had relaxed and her pulse slowed so that it now synced with his. One of the things he had quickly learned was how good it felt to make Molly happy.
“Shall we order some takeaway and forget about the rest of humankind for tonight?”
She raised her head with the first smile on her face he’d seen that day and placed a soft kiss on his lips. “I always knew we would be good together.”