” Bring me the frosting ! “
Sherlock barked, frantically
striding around his kitchen.
For once flasks and tubes and
chemicals weren’t bombarding
the table—-they were replaced
with cupcake necessities.
As ridiculous as it seemed,
John’s birthday was arriving
and the detective found that
cupcakes seemed to be
a basic enough gift.
But, God, it required
experience.
The dark-haired man slapped
a carton on eggs on the
counter—not hard enough
to crack them, though.
" Molly, where’s the butter
—Did you forget the butter ?! “
Sherlock whipped around
to give the pathologist a
frightened glare,
teeth gritted.
The cupcakes had to be
p e r f e c t for him !!
When Sherlock had asked her to help him bake John cupcakes for his birthday, Molly had been hesitant to accept to begin with until she had seen how keen he had been to do such a thing for his friend. He clearly wanted to do something now, so she had come to the flat armed with a recipe and all of the ingredients needed.
"Sherlock, relax. I made sure I brought everything.” Making her way to the box she had brought the ingredients in, pulling out the block of butter a moment later. “See, it’s still in here.”
She had thought he would have at least some idea when it came to cooking, but that was clearly wrong as he seemed to be clueless about it all. “Have you read the recipe? Do you know how to start?”