A prompt from tumblr user weasleygirl928.
Inspired by the song "Beauty and Brains" by Nielson.
Sherlock walked into the bedroom of 221 B Baker Street to find his beautiful wife sitting on their bed typing away on her laptop. Her hair was piled on her head in a messy bun, and her glasses were perched on the bridge of her nose. Her brow was creased in concentration. He thought she was never more beautiful than she was in moments like this.
He was shaken from his reverie when he heard his name being called. Shaking his head a bit, looked at Molly with a smile.
"Yes?"
"You're staring. Can I help you with something?" Molly asked as she straightened to look at him fully.
"Actually, I was wondering if I could help you with anything."
She quirked an eyebrow. "And for what would I need your help, Mr. Holmes?"
"Well, Mrs. Holmes, I can see that you have the results of your latest research experiment as well as some of your past research work out and scattered across our shared bed. You are also typing rather furiously at your laptop. It's quite obvious that you are writing an academic paper," the detective responded smoothly. "And, by the look on you face earlier, you seem to be having some trouble."
"You're so smart, you write it for me," his wife huffed in frustration. "I'm utterly stuck. I have no idea how to write this bloody thing."
"This is your project. I was merely offering my assistance," Sherlock chuckled as he sat behind her, reading over her shoulder. "And why are we suddenly writing academic papers this evening?"
"I've been asked to publish my findings on that immunology research I've been doing for the past year, but I can't do it. I can't put any of my thoughts on paper," Molly explained, running her hands over her face.
"What are you talking about? This is brilliant. You've perfectly explained how you created monoclonal antibodies from agrobacteria infiltrated into tobacco plants," Sherlock replied indignantly.
"It's all wrong. It doesn't sound like an academic paper," Molly fretted. "I don't think I'll publish it. I'll just call them tomorrow and tell them that my research needs more time and that I can't publish."
"Molly Hooper-Holmes, you will do nothing of the sort. You have put so much time and effort in your research and in writing this paper, and, while it does not sound like those clinical papers you often find in medical journals, it is perfect. It reflects you and your remarkable work. And you will publish this paper because you are my wife, the beauty and the brains of this relationship."
Molly giggled as she closed her laptop and set it aside. "I'm pretty sure you are the brains of this operation," she said as she wrapped around her arms around his neck.
Sherlock settled his hands on her hips. "I merely run around London 'deducing people and generally being an arse' is what I think John said. I may catch killers, but your work in vaccinology can save countless lives before they end. People need to know about your work. Now, promise me you will publish this."
Molly let out a long sigh. "Fine, I'll do it," she agreed. "I really hate that I'm still susceptible to your persuasion," she added when she saw the self-satisfied smirk that had crept onto his face.
"You just know how to listen to reason. Now that I've convinced you that you are, indeed, the brainy one, I think it is time for me to show you that you are also the beautiful one," Sherlock said, pulling his wife to him for a kiss.