A: Apple Pie
A is for Apple pie
Molly and Tom were enjoying a lazy Sunday afternoon, he was reading the paper, and she was baking mini apple pies for work the next week. The flat was peaceful and smelt wonderful, unfortunately it was not to last for long. A key could be heard turning in the lock, and in burst a very soggy looking Sherlock Holmes. It was all Molly could do to not stare as the detective took off his wet coat and scarf- she wasn't sure how he'd managed it, but his shirt was also sopping wet.
"Molly, why does he have a key?" Tom asked,
"He stays here sometimes," Molly answered, like it was the most normal thing in the world.
"Why?" Tom said slowly, confused evident on his face
"We agreed he needed the space," She answered quickly
"Why is he going into the bedroom?" Tom's questions were not endearing him to Sherlock,
"To get changed, obviously." Sherlock answered drily
"You should shower first." Molly said without thinking; it was what her mother had her do when she came home from school dripping wet.
"I'm quite wet enough thank you." Sherlock replied tersely,
"We can see that Mr Darcy." Tom muttered Molly glared daggers at him, as there was nothing to hand to throw at his head. Sherlock re-appeared, half-naked
"Towel." He barked
"Airing cupboard," Molly said, as if they had had this conversation many times. Tom watched the interactions between the two with interest and moderate confusion, Molly had informed him that Sherlock used to pop by every now and again, she'd never mentioned a key.
"I know you've moved them, bottom drawer, left hand side," Sherlock said, as Molly was about to explain where his spare clothes were, she simply nodded and turned her attention to removing the apple pies from the oven.
"Since when did you keep his clothes here?!" Tom exclaimed,
"Oh please, it's painful. She's already told you I stay here; surely I'm going to need clothes. Especially after she banned me from wandering around in just a sheet." Sherlock replied, in his most bored tone of voice. Molly kept her back to her fiancé, trying to force her face back to a more normal shade of peach.
"Anything else I should know?" Tom asked, exasperated, Sherlock waltzed out of the bedroom, fully dressed, which included another coat.
"Should know? There's plenty you could know," Sherlock smirked at the look on Tom's face,
"There's really not," Molly tried to reassure Tom, bringing him over a hot apple pie as a peace offering.
"Careful with those pies, Mycroft might just turn up. Says he's on a diet, but it's all lies." Sherlock promptly snaffled a pie, and made his way to the door
"How would Mycroft know I baked pie?" Molly gave Sherlock a tight lipped smile, she knew the answer to her question.
"Actually, that's probably something you should know, he bugged your flat. Good day." Sherlock swept out of the flat, leaving a rather bemused Tom, and highly embarrassed Molly behind. A sharp knock on the door broke the uncomfortable silence; Tom went to open it, as Molly had disappeared into the bedroom, to clean up after Sherlock.
"How can I help you?" Tom asked the very well dressed gentleman with an umbrella standing on their doorstep. Molly poked her head out of the bedroom door-
"Come in Mycroft," She called from across the room.
"I see you've already had the pleasure of my little brother today," He commented, making his way over to the apple pies.
"Why did you bug the flat?" Tom blurted out, Mycroft turned sharply on his heel, pie in hand.
"For Molly's safety, my brother gets caught himself caught up with many unsavoury folk. Requested her security be looked after while he was away." Mycroft said in his most patronising voice, as Molly reappeared.
"Erm, why are you here Mycroft?" Molly asked, proud at how steady she'd kept her voice.
"Sherlock already told you that." He smiled briefly and left. Tom turned to Molly,
"So Sherlock Holmes uses your flat when he fancies it, and his brother spies on you for cake?" He surmised, somewhere between stunned and horrified.
"Yeah," Molly smiled weakly,
"Wait, you're ok with that?" He was struggling to adjust to the new 'normal' now he'd been introduced to Molly's friends.
"I guess so," She shrugged, now it had been said it out loud, it did sound fairly absurd.
"You are going to tell them they can't do this when we're married, aren't you?" Tom clarified; he didn't fancy the Holmes brothers turning up at will in his home.
"Of course." Molly said reassuringly, telling Sherlock was one thing; actually stopping him doing it was another matter entirely.