┼
Send me ┼ for my muse's reaction to walking in on your muse... (Accepting)
9. Wearing just a towel
When Molly got home at the end of her night shift, she was knackered. Nights were either dead (pun sort of intended) or mental. Tonight was mental, with a car pile up delivering an unfortunate amount of work her way. More unfortunate for the deceased, she always reminded herself.
So it took her longer than it should have for her to realize that the door to her flat was already unlocked. By the time it registered, she could hear the sounds of someone in her flat puttering around. Her first thought was that Sherlock had decided to pop over for whatever reason and make himself at home (something he did on occasion). Which was better than the reality of finding Jim Moriarty in her kitchen making tea with a bath towel tied ‘round his waist.
“What are you doing here?” Molly asked, looking stunned. Her hands were already fumbling in her bag to try to retrieve her phone, wondering if she could dial 999 before he decided to do whatever it was he came here to do (she’s thinking it doesn’t just involve a shower and some tea).