Molly prepared the supper that night with a little more noise than she usually did. From that, Sherlock made a rather obvious deduction: "You're still mad?"
His tone was casual to most ears, but she could hear the worry that lay beneath. She'd told him about her lunch hour in the canteen, and how she'd overheard some of the nursing staff gossiping about her and Sherlock in quite an ugly way.
Molly sighed, shut the oven door with some force, and rubbed her face. "I just…I wish that people could think of better things to talk about…"
Sherlock went to her, removed her hand from her face, and gently rubbed her temples with his thumbs. She moaned appreciatively at the gesture. "They either have nothing better to do with their little minds, or they talk of others so that they won't see the problems in their own lives."
Molly sighed and rested her on his chest. "I know, I know…I'll be fine once I've eaten something…it's been a long day…"
"I can imagine," said Sherlock, embracing her securely. "Three autopsies on top of inane gossip sound quite straining indeed. And once you have eaten supper, I am determined to take you to bed and permanently erase the memory of your work day."
The petite brunette lifted her head. Sherlock smiled to see the sparkle return to her eyes. "Oh? Care to elaborate, Mr. Holmes?"
"Patience, soon-to-be Mrs. Holmes," Sherlock purred, leading her to the table. "We must eat first, as you so love to remind me to do between cases. Now we both have something to look forward to."
Molly left it at that, but she gave him such a smile of love and gratitude that Sherlock couldn't resist kissing her before finishing the supper for them both.
The next morning, Sherlock made a discreet call to Mycroft to have a few members of the St. Bart's nursing staff knocked down a few pegs on the career ladder. If it were up to him, they'd be gone, but he knew that Molly wouldn't approve of that. Still, they had to be taught a lesson, even if they didn't know it. No one got away with upsetting his Molly anymore.