A/N: Okay this might be a little confusing and if it is please do tell me, but I am whacking up all four chapters now!

This little thing was inspired by Bruno Mars "Grenade", have an angel Molly.

I'd Catch a Grenade For You

There were a lot of things Molly didn't understand.

The one thing she did know was that she was put on this earth to protect Sherlock Holmes.

If she failed in this she would perish eternally. But if she succeeded she would be brought back to his side. Every single time.

She was stood in Kabul watching Sherlock lurk around the edges of a building before slipping inside the door.

Tightening the fabric in front of her face she knew women were not allowed inside the building and sat on a bench within sight of the door which Sherlock entered and began to sort pulses. It was a job to keep her hands busy whilst her mind was free to worry over the smallest of details.

When Sherlock finally exited she had to double check it was him. He was bound in a black garment but it was the gleam of his eyes as they gazed across the busy square that gave him away.

She would then shadow him for as long as she needed until they reached a gathering of cars. They were not too far out of the closest village, a group of four black clad men met Sherlock in his garb at the edge of the market square and led them out further, Molly trailing them in the twilight shadows. The cars headlights were upon a small kneeling figure that Molly did not worry over; she was not here to protect anyone but Sherlock. But unlike the busy market square Molly could not blend into such an open area but thankfully none of the men seemed to notice her.

She watched as her black robed detective lifted a sword to a woman she did not know before appearing to change his mind and swing it onto one of the men that stood by the cars. Only he could think that one traditional sword would beat four men with sub-machine guns and grenades.

Molly moved without thinking as the missile was hurled at Sherlock. Her body caught the device and everyone seemed to freeze at the new player. Sherlock stared in horror as her veil had slipped revealing her chestnut red hair but Molly said nothing. She smiled softly before taking the device and running as quickly as she could further into the desert.

She heard his shout but felt nothing when there was a final ting from the grenade.

~M.H~

She opened her eyes as there was Sherlock, smiling at her winningly. He must have asked her something.

"Sorry Sherlock, what did you say?" She shook her head and he seemed to tut, quietly enough for John to miss it but just enough for her to hear it.

"I said I like the lipstick you were wearing earlier, do you fancy a coffee?"

Her heart raced. Every life she sacrificed meant being one step closer to Sherlock; that's all she could presume, her lifestyle didn't come with a manual or instructions.

"Ehh sure?" She squeaked.

"Great, just a dash of milk, no sugar thank you." He turned back to his microscope ignoring John's huff of exasperation.