A/N: I was going to publish this as one of my mini-stories in Tumblr but found that it went on longer so decided to transfer it here. Pretty sure this was inspired by a Sherlolly fanart made by Lexie over at Tumblr but tweaked slightly so I could have John do a bit of detective work on his own. Shall we begin?
Disclaimer: I'm still not sipping hot chocolate with Molly in a Coffee Bean so I guess I still don't own anything.
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"Maybe we can get them to retract the story? Ask Mycroft for help?" John grimaced as Sherlock balled up the newspaper and threw it across the room.
Sherlock shook his head and started pacing-no, stalking-the perimeter of their sitting room. "The only way Mycroft can help is if one of his teams found a way to selectively erase memories from every citizen in the UK. It'll take them at least another 3 years to get it right."
John scrambled to his feet, eyes wide. "Right, that sounds like something we should be discussing."
"This isn't the time to discuss Mycroft, John," Sherlock spat, his hands curled into fists. "This is about the press' obsession with taking photos of me and Molly. Why do they even think their readers would want to see those anyway?"
John realized that they needed to have another talk about how normal it was for society to be interested in the lives of public figures. Unfortunately for Sherlock Holmes, his romantic life (particularly in relation to St. Bart's resident pathologist, Molly Hooper) had been the fixation of the British media for the past two months.
"I would consider asking Lestrade for help with acquiring restraining orders but I suspect that he's having too much fun with this." Sherlock passed by the mantle a fifth time and grabbed Billy the Skull from his perch. "Not to mention how determined those blasted paparazzi are."
"True. I doubt 100 metres will be far enough to keep them from getting photos," John conceded as he stood to pick up the crumpled newspaper from beside the couch. He smoothed his hand over it and studied the wrinkled photograph on the tabloid's front page.
The cameraman had been wise enough to keep his distance and to use a fairly impressive lens to capture a candid moment between Sherlock and Molly. There really was nothing blatantly romantic about the photo: With their backs to the camera and an acceptable distance between them, the two seemed to be innocently engaged in small talk while crossing the street.
John snuck a glance at Sherlock, who was distractedly tossing Billy into the air. The good doctor decided that this was not the time to bring up three facts he was sure the public would be interested to know: Sherlock Holmes was not known to make small talk unless working undercover; the photo was taken on the afternoon they arrived from a long out-of-town case that ended with John being abandoned in a carriage just as the train arrived in the station and he finished securing a bandage around the consulting detective's forearm (which he saw peeking from beneath the left sleeve of Sherlock's coat); and, most interesting of all the facts was that Sherlock and Molly were only a block away from the pathologist's flat.
Ignoring how Sherlock's narrowed eyes jumped from his face to the paper, John returned to his seat with a smug grin.
They definitely had a lot to talk about tonight.