#warstan

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“Did I mention that Molly occasionally gets gifts from a secret admirer?” Sherlock said, one afternoon not long after John had gotten the message from the unknown number. Normally a statement like that from Sherlock should have sent a bit of panic through him, but as he knew the truth…

At least this was a secret he could share.

“The orchids and lilies and the chocolates were from me,” John said.

“I thought as much,” Sherlock said a smile on his face. “That’s why I didn’t panic that someone was trying to poison her, or capitulate some sort of behavior from her.”

“How did you possibly guess?” John asked, his mouth hanging open slightly.

“I remembered the day she got the flowers that you had a floral delivery service open on your laptop three days prior when I went to borrow it. You had typed in orchids before I commandeered it. And I remember Mycroft mentioned those chocolates in your presence, and Molly had been having a bad week. A box of chocolates coming from an unknown admirer after she’d admitted she’d had an awful week to both of us practically screamed a gift from you, since it wasn’t from me.” He paused. “You aren’t trying to sweep her off her feet, are you?”

“Absolutely not,” John said, the knot in his stomach lessening. Yes, he had tried to cheer Molly up when Sherlock was being especially stupid around her birthday, and even he knew chocolate could make even the worst days better. But he wasn’t trying to woo Molly out from under Sherlock’s nose; he just wanted to give her a gift without knowing it was from him. “And we aren’t going to tell her in case other surprises arrive, are we?”

“Nope,” Sherlock said, popping the p a bit. “But why won’t you tell her? I’m sure she’d love to know you care for her that much.”

Sherlock had a point. It wouldn’t hurt if she knew, but he still felt maybe he shouldn’t. It was nice for Molly to think she had someone looking out for her. “Maybe.”

“I’ll leave telling her up to you, then,” Sherlock said. John looked at Sherlock and only then realized he was in a much nicer suit than he usually wore. He noticed John looking and smiled a bit. “We’re going to the ballet. Mycroft needs me to observe a specific couple in the audience who may be passing on state secrets to the ballet troupe.”

“Does Molly know her date involves a case?”

“Yes,” Sherlock said with a nod. “Fortunately, she doesn’t mind. She even managed to convince Mycroft to get us dinner beforehand at a four star restaurant.”

John chuckled. “She’s really good for you, you know.”

“I do. I’m lucky she tolerates me.”

“Sherlock, she does more than tolerate you. She loves you.” He saw Sherlock freeze slightly. “Has she told you she loves you yet?”

“No,” he said slowly, drawing the word out.

“Have you told her?”

“How do you know I love her?” he asked.

“I can just tell, in all the little things.” He paused. “Are you considering being intimate with her any time soon?”

“It’s crossed my mind,” he said. “I’m not a virgin, despite what my brother thinks, but I’m not as...experienced...as Molly is.”

“Ah.”

“Ah?” Sherlock asked, turning to look at John. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“It just makes sense why you haven’t told her you love her. Just...don’t overthink things, let her take the lead, and tell her as soon as you can. She’ll enjoy hearing it, and if it leads to something more, you’ll enjoy it, too.”

“I suppose,” Sherlock said, pursing his lips. He glanced at his watch. “Mycroft is sending a car. Are you going to be fine by yourself tonight?”

“I’ll get takeaway and go over patient records,” he said, waving his hand to Sherlock. “Tell her tonight. I won’t wait up for the two of you.”

Sherlock nodded, straightened his back, and resolutely made his way to the coat rack to get his Belstaff. John watched, waiting until Sherlock left to check his phone. He had a new message from the same unknown number his warning had come from. Interesting. He opened the message and read it.

So. He had a name now. Rosamund. And an offer of friendship.

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