A/N: Since it's Easter I watched Easter Parade (1948) again and this little idea wouldn't leave me alone. Set after TRF (although, it could technically be set any time you like), hope you enjoy it :)

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

What Colour Are My Eyes?

"How could you?" Molly demanded tearfully as she watched Lestrade drag her date away in handcuffs.

Sherlock had the grace to look contrite, "Molly-"

"You knew what he was like and you didn't tell me," she continued, ignoring him, "you always tell me."

"Molly, listen to me-"

"No!" she yelled, whirling around to face him, "I'm done listening to you, Sherlock Holmes, I should have known better than to expect you to act like a human being," she spat, making him flinch. "I'm not a machine, Sherlock, and I'm tired of you treating me like a prop, even in my own morgue, when I'm with you I don't even feel like a girl!" she sobbed.

"Molly-" he tried again, reaching out to place a hand on her shoulder but she jerked out of range.

"I can't believe you let me go on a date with him," she whispered brokenly, some of her anger leaving her, "I even bought a new dress."

"It's very pretty," he told her with what he hoped was a comforting smile.

Her eyes flashed as she glared up at him, "How do you know you haven't even looked at me," she muttered, making to walk passed him.

He blocked her, "That's not true."

"Isn't it?" she retorted, "All right then, what colour are my eyes?" she demanded, closing them, "You won't be able to answer that because you have never paid enough atten-"

"They're brown," Sherlock said quietly, interrupting her tirade.

Molly opened her eyes in surprise, "What?"

"Your eyes," he explained in the same low tone, "they're brown."

"Oh."

He tentatively reached out and placed his hands on her shoulders, "I do notice Molly," he continued, "and I'm sorry about tonight but there truly was no other way." He paused, "Surely you know that I would never place you in danger," he added.

She sniffled, "I know."

"Good," he said approvingly, releasing her shoulders and taking a step back.

Molly bit her lip, "Um…good night then," she said, once again attempting to leave.

Only to have Sherlock block her forward motion a second time, "May I escort you home?" he asked, looking a little unsure of himself.

Molly nodded, obviously surprised by the question as she took his proffered arm.

Sherlock ignored the surprise on Lestrade and John's faces as he walked away, arm in arm with Molly.

He'd made the mistake of letting Molly think she didn't count before, he was not about to repeat it. Especially not when, one day, he was determined to explain to her just how very much she did count.