AN: This has been wallowing in my drafts for ages. Will be a couple parts, at least. :) Enjoy, my loves!
They were honestly the two biggest idiots in the world. John rubbed his forehead and reached over to turn off the speaker, letting blissful silence fall in the sound booth.
In the recording studio, Molly and Sherlock were still gesticulating wildly and shouting, but at least he didn't have to listen to it anymore. They only had one more session. One. And those two morons could not get through it without one of them storming off in a huff.
Apparently it was Molly's turn today.
'Call me when Hell freezes over and you're ready to act like a grown man!' Molly shouted over her shoulder as she burst into the sound booth and threw open the hall door.
'Don't hold your breath, Hooper!' Sherlock bellowed after her.
John raised his eyebrow.
His friend looked at him and scowled darkly. 'What?' He snapped.
'You could just ask her out, you know.'
Sherlock's jaw dropped. 'Ask her- are you out of your mind?! I hate the bloody woman!'
John snorted. 'Oh, come on, mate. You got it bad for her. You like the little spitfire and you're upset you won't be seeing her once the recording is done. So you're acting out like a child.'
'Are you mad?! I don't like her!' Sherlock stammered in outrage. 'And I'm not a child!'
John smirked. He couldn't have been more like a child than if he had stomped his foot.
'Well, I'm not!' Sherlock shouted and stormed from the room. John could hear his heavy footsteps echoing down the hallway in the opposite direction as Molly.
He flipped off the switches and smiled to himself. He had 20 quid riding on those two snogging in the storage cupboard by the end of the week.
oOo
'-conceited, blow hard thinks that he is perfect and the rest of us peons are little buzzing insects in his ear!'
Mary smiled fondly as her friend paced and ranted.
'I've hit every note but the right one, according to his Lordship! I just want to finish this ridiculous recording and put Sherlock Holmes and his arrogant face behind me!'
Molly flopped onto the sofa with a huff. Clearly she had exhausted her words and was now trying to obliterate Sherlock with her mind, if the scowl on her face was anything to go by. Mary tried to hide her smile. Molly was too adorable to pull of 'murderous anger'.
'Stop smiling,' Molly snapped half-heartedly, which only led to Mary grinning widely. Molly crossed her arms. 'Be serious and start thinking about where to hide a body.'
Mary snorted. 'I already have a half dozen places picked out, but I have plans for those.'
Molly cracked a smile, her anger receding to an abashed simmer, and Mary counted that as a small victory. As Molly's best friend (and self-proclaimed Bloke-Vetter) of five years, Mary could see the attraction buried beneath Molly's anger; the young pop singer had it bad for the Crooning Peacock known as Sherlock Holmes. And considering Mary had caught said Peacock staring at Molly with an admiring eye on more than one occasion, the feeling was more than mutual.
But they were both acting like play yard children, yanking pigtails and throwing mud.
My idiots. She thought fondly, already working on the next step to get those two crazy kids to realise their feelings for each other and snog already.
After all, she only had two more days to win the bet.
And she wasn't going to lose to the likes of John Watson.