Disclaimer: I own nothing
This was a prompt over on tumblr: 67%
(GC stands for Gas Chromatograph, it's an analytical machine used for testing the composition of samples)
Molly was in the middle of prepping the second test sample when she heard the familiar sounds of the lab printer, spewing out the GC results.
It only took a few seconds to finish what she was doing, and she was at a crucial step so she couldn't step away until it was finished.
"Molly, what's taking so long! The results are done and you haven't told them to me yet." Sherlock said, never lifting his head from the microscope
"You know, you could always get them yourself. I am busy doing other things you know, you are just looking at tissue samples. They aren't going to degrade in the time it takes to walk up and go to the printer, whereas, the DNA sample you gave me to run for the fifth time will." She said sighing and shaking her head.
His response was to wave his hand dismissively.
If I didn't love him so damn much, she thought as she walked over to machine.
Her eyes quickly scanned the printout. "The natural gas in the house was definitely tampered with; I am getting sixty-seven percent for propane and there is a spike of a substance not normally found in household gas. I suspect from where the peak is its cyanide, but I need to check references before I can be sure."
A few moments of silence passed. Molly was about to repeat herself, thinking that Sherlock wasn't paying attention to her, again.
"You're wrong. Run it again."
Molly did a double-take, "Excuse me?"
"I said. You're wrong."
He still hadn't looked up from that dang microscope and Molly was starting to get frustrated, "No. I'm not, the results are right here. I ran the sample myself."
"Then you obviously did it wrong. I ran it before you and got clean household gas. It wasn't the gas, Molly. But since I am not 'certified' according to this hospitals insipid standards, my results can't be taken as fact."
"Sherlock, I can assure you everything was followed according to protocol. Actually, no, I lied. Protocol is actually more lenient than what I know you prefer."
He looked up, surprise coloring his features. It wasn't often that Molly stood up to him, she usually just re-ran the test.
"Sherlock, tell me how you ran the test." She had an idea of what had happened, but wanted him to come to the conclusion himself.
"Do we really have to go over this, Molly. We both know that I am right, which you will see as soon as you re-do the test."
Molly smirked, "Humor me, and if it turns out that I am really in the wrong I'll do whatever you want to make up for it."
Sherlock's eyes narrowed, "I have been needing a live animal subject for an experiment involving knock-out drugs… Your cat would be excellent for it."
"I have told you a thousand times, Sherlock, you're not experimenting on Toby! But I can get a mouse from the animal lab here." She conceded.
"That's not exactly comparable, but it will suffice. Alright, I used the syringe to gather up the appropriate amount of gas, typed in the method, and injected the sample."
"But how did you inject the sample? Were you paying attention, or did you get distracted as usual and not inject the sample quickly?"
If it were possible Molly would say Sherlock looked a little sheepish, "There is a possibility; I had samples that needed checking immediately."
"Sure… And you know that cyanide is lighter than propane and therefore if you left it in the injection port too long you would burn it all off before it even started?"
She smirked when the look of realization and contempt crossed his face.
"And… I believe I have just proved you wrong Sherlock Holmes." She said crossing the room and delicately laying the results page in front of him.
She turned to saunter away when his arm shot out, wrapping around her waist and pulling her into his lap.
"Do you know how attractive you are when you get cocky, Mrs. Holmes?" He whispered into her skin as he nibbled on her neck.
Molly moaned in response, lost in the sensation his lips were creating.
"I believe there is a matter of our bet to discuss. We determined what I would get if I won; but not what you would get… I bet I think I can think of something agreeable." He said, kissing her passionately.
They broke apart breathlessly as Sherlock lifted her up and placed her on the lab bench.
"Molly?"
"Yes?" She answered in a daze.
"Can we still get the mouse?"
She laughed deeply. "Fine," she said as she grabbed his suit jacket, pulling him in between her legs to resume their previous activities.