I own nothing.
All mistakes are mine.
Good grief, I'm not even officially in the Cabin Pressure fandom and this is what popped out.
Help me.
See something wonky? Let me know.
Jaaneman - Hindi, noun, "soul of me," gender-neutral, word for sweetheart or darling
Molly Hooper stood looking at the mess Sherlock Holmes, consulting genius (Consulting bloody baby, Molly thought angrily.) left of her lab. She stood with her hands on her hips, beyond angry. Before the door of her lab could slam shut, Molly whipped around and stalked the detective and his blogger out into the hall.
"STOP RIGHT THERE, SHERLOCK HOLMES," Molly roared at the top of her voice, which admittedly wasn't very loud, but for Miss Molly Hooper it was practically a declaration of war in the corridor.
Sherlock Holmes and John Watson stopped and turned around, wearing twin expressions of jaw-dropping shock. Several thunderstruck people stuck their heads out of their offices to see what the commotion was about. When they saw it was Molly hollering, they all quickly ducked their heads back inside their offices and locked their doors. They knew that this wasn't going to be pretty. The only one brave enough to watch the show was Mike Stamford, who wore his customary bemused smile. Behind him stood an uncertain redhead who could only stare at the scene with large doe-eyes.
"GET BACK RIGHT HERE, THIS VERY INSTANT AND CLEAN UP AFTER YOURSELVES," Molly said still at the top of her lungs. "I AM NOT HERE TO BE YOUR MOTHER OR TO PROVIDE YOU WITH SPARE BODY PARTS, SHERLOCK HOLMES."
Sherlock and John came rushing at her, faces beet red, stammering apologies, Lestrade's case temporarily forgotten.
"AND YOU," she roared at John, "DOCTOR WATSON, YOU SHOULD KNOW BETTER THAN TO LET YOUR GENIUS IDIOT BOYFRIEND LEAVE A WORKING LAB IN THIS STATE. HAVE YOU FORGOTTEN YOUR TRAINING?"
As the door shut, Mike could still clearly Molly rant and rave at them as they thoroughly cleaned her lab. Mike chuckled and pulled his friend back inside his own office, leaving the door partially open. It was nice, in his opinion, to hear Molly come screeching to her senses with Sherlock.
"That's who you want to set me up on a date with?" said the redhead, his face matching his hair. He nervously rubbed the inside of his hat.
"Yes, Martin. That is exactly who I want to set you up on a date with," Mike said and chuckled again. "She's a quite a lovely woman, whip smart, and has a lovely sense of humor."
The sounds of a loud bang and crash came drifting down the hall. That's the spirit, Molly!
"I'm going to be mincemeat," the other man said.
"Oh ye, of little faith," quipped Mike as he steered his friend towards Molly's lab and gently shut the door behind them.
Sherlock and John stood at almost perfect parade rest while Molly finished her rant about their general behavior around other people.
"And you!" Molly said pointing at Sherlock. "Have absolutely no right to treat anyone the way you do. Have you forgotten that we actually care about you? Or that Lestrade and I put our careers on the line to help you solve these cases? And for what?! For your derision! We most certainly deserve better treatment than you currently give us!" Sherlock was aghast that his this angry spitfire was his friend, Molly Hooper. How could he have possibly underestimated her? I won't be doing that again!
"And you, doctor and former captain! He's a bloody bad influence on you! Aren't you supposed to be his calming effect? But I see you taking on his bad habits? For shame! The next time I see you, you better be better behaved! And the both of you are probably still walking all over poor Detective Inspector Lestrade! Does it hurt you to show a little humility once in awhile, Sherlock?" Molly went on, heedless of Sherlock and John trying to interrupt her.
"Molly?" John tried and failed.
"Molly," Sherlock tried and failed.
"Molly?" both of them trying together.
And failed.
Molly Hooper was only interrupted when Mike Stamford cleared his throat.
"Oh, thank god," John muttered softly and threw Mike a grateful glance.
Molly shot John a dirty look, who instantly cringed.
"Sorry," John said and sighed.
"Molly, we really need to go," Sherlock finally said, regaining his composure. "Thank you for helping us in this case. We won't leave your lab in such a condition again." John nodded enthusiastically trying to convince Molly of their sincerity.
"Yes, yes, fine. Go. Save the world. Make Lestrade happy. Solve the big case. Eat at Angelo's. Go home and fuck each other silly until and Mrs. Turner start banging on the walls and ceiling," Molly said waving her tired hand away.
Sherlock, John, and Mike all stood with shocked expressions on their faces. Molly would've laughed if she wasn't so tired from her rant.
"What? Isn't that what you do most days you don't have a case? Fuck each other silly until a case appears?" Molly said, not at all bitter. Sherlock and John turned several shades of red.
"Um, er...goodbye, Molly! See you later!" John finally cried out, dragging a bewildered Sherlock after him.
Molly sighed before turning her attention to Mike and his friend. She looked at them closely, feeling a bit strange. Funny, Molly thought, he bears a striking resemblance to Sherlock. Molly looked at the stranger in her lab and noticed his fidgeting. Molly drew a startled gasp. Oh, god. He saw all my ranting and raving! He must think I'm a lunatic!
"Molly!" Sherlock said, popping his head back in and interrupting her thoughts.
"What!" Molly practically screeched, making Sherlock jump back and hit his head on the doorframe.
"You should say yes," he said wincing and rubbing his head before Sherlock winked at her.
Molly blinked before asking, "yes to what?" but the detective had disappeared again. Most likely in a cloud of mystery, she thought wryly.
"Oh, dear lord. There were my day," Molly muttered, trying not to be upset with her colleague. She secretly blamed Mike Stamford for bringing Sherlock Holmes into her sphere of influence. Molly didn't regret anything for helping the wayward detective during his three-year hiatus, but sometimes, just sometimes, the man was just maddening. "Well, Mike. What can I do for you?" She said trying to regain her former sunny outlook.
Molly seemed to fail spectacularly.
"He was that bad today, huh?" Mike said chuckling. How does he manage to remain so upbeat? Molly thought. Give him a few hours with Sherlock using his lab and see how jolly he remains! Oh, hush, Molly Hooper. Be nice. "This is my old friend, Martin. Martin, this is my friend, coworker, and saint, Dr. Molly Hooper."
"How do you do?" Martin said, fidgeting while looking at her.
"You look like Sherlock!" Molly suddenly blurted. Oh, damn. Shut up mouth!
"Uh...what?" Martin said, fiddling with his hat. "That bloke who was just in here?" Oh, but he seems nice...a lot nicer than Sherlock. Shut up brain!
"Yes, him. Well, he's a bit taller. And you're a redhead, with lots of freckles and your fidget," Molly said thoughtfully. Before she could stop herself she said, "Sherlock twiddles instead of fidgets." Shut up mouth!
"Aren't they the same thing?" Martin said, confused, his eyes crinkling. Oh! He's...cute...
"Well, Sherlock seems to keep tossing all sorts of things up into the air and catching them. You just seem to hold your hat in your hands and twisting it around. Twiddling. Fidgeting," Molly said as if this explained everything.
Martin blinked at her.
Molly blinked at him in return.
"What did you say you did?" Molly finally asked, trying to break the silence.
"I didn't. I thought Mike said what I did," Martin replied.
Martin and Molly looked around for their friend and colleague only to find him gone from Molly's lab. They looked at each other, reddening before grinning sheepishly. Such a kind face...
"Um...well," Martin began. "I'm a captain."
"A captain?" Molly asked.
"A pilot, actually," Martin said and reddened even further, making Molly smile.
Molly was beginning to think Martin was the most adorable looking man she had ever met. No, he wasn't Sherlock, but Molly quickly got over her crush the two weeks he stayed at her flat after his "suicide." Sherlock had nearly burned down her flat, experimented on her cats, and basically sulked about all day wondering how John was doing. He finally remembered his manners near the end of his stay when she pointedly threw what he was experimenting on out the window and began to yell at the man.
Needless to say, Sherlock was very courteous after that episode.
"Is he always like that?" Martin asked.
"Who? Mike?" Molly asked, confused.
"No, the other one. Sherlock?"
"Oh! Yes, yes he is! You should've seen the mess he made of my flat after staying with me for two weeks. He's a right bastard sometimes, but really underneath, very caring," Molly said.
"Is he...your ex-boyfriend?" Martin asked tentatively.
"Oh, god, no," Molly said quickly. "I had a huge crush on him before but that was effectively wiped off once I realized a couple of things."
"That's good," Martin said.
"Do you know what Sherlock wanted me to say yes to?" Molly finally asked.
"No idea really," Martin said. After a beat, he then said, "yes, actually I do. Mike wanted to set us up on a date."
"On a date?" Molly squeaked, remembering her nerves.
"Yes," Martin said, his face matching his hair.
"Really?" She asked. "After all that ranting and raving I did?"
"I think you're quite nice," Martin said. "I'll just be careful not to get on your bad side," he added, smiling a bit.
Molly beamed at him.
"So...um...would you like to get some coffee?" Martin asked, looking at her.
"I'd love to," Molly replied. "How does not sound?"
"Perfect," Martin said.
Thank you for reading.