Gabriel, back to wearing her Molly face, walked around the lab, handing Sherlock things when he needed them. The detective and the doctor were so perfectly smitten with each other, it was actually sickening, but Watson, the idiot, was convinced he was straight and Holmes didn't make it better with his sudden fasination with Irene. Of course, Sherlock did a perfectly good job of ruining any relationship John might persue, but this whole deal with the Woman was getting a bit... Dangerous. Gabriel had paid her a little visit.
Some of the best sex she's ever had. Right up there with Kail. Mmm. She'd have to suggest a threesome next time.
"Focus, Gabe," she shook herself out of her sexual fantasies, for once grateful she couldn't get a boner; with Mister I-See-Everything and Doctor Straight-But-Not-Really in the room, it would have been awkward.
"What?" John blinked, hearing her mumble to herself.
"Nothing," Gabriel quickly recovered, looking at John, confused.
"Are you alright, Molly?" John inquired, "You seem... Off."
"John," Sherlock saved her from answering, "Get me my phone."
"Where is it?" John demanded, looking around the room.
"In my coat pocket," came the answer. John growled, disapprovingly, and retreived the phone from the coat he was wearing.
Yep, definitely smitten.
She was tempted to ask John if Sherlock learned clarinet in school when Sherlock sent the doctor away on an errand.
"Would you like some coffee, Sherlock?" Gabriel asked, sweetly.
"No," he brushed off. She shrugged and went to go find some for herself, then. If one more person offers her tea, she's going to level the entire continent of Europe...
"Oh, Molly," Sherlock gazed up towards her, stopping her in her tracks, "I do hope you don't have any intensions on doing anything besides making John feel most welcome here."
She understood the undertoned message perfectly and smiled.
"Of course," she answered, "Consider it my sole duty."