When their room's door slams shut, Molly Hooper doesn't look up from her laptop. It takes the sight of her girlfriend flopping down onto her bed and letting out a loud sob for the biology student to take her headphones up, stand up, and hurry to her side.

"What's wrong, darling?" Molly asks, gently stroking her shoulder. Irene shakes her head, still sobbing into the pillow. Eventually, however, she pushes herself into a sitting position, throws her arms around Molly, and gently kisses her on the lips. Before Molly can return the gesture, Irene starts planting kiss after kiss all over her body — her cheeks, her forehead, her neck, her shoulders…

They've only been dating for 7 months now, but Molly has learned how to read quite a bit of her lover's body language. This kind of quick, fleeting affection is a sign that Irene is genuinely upset about something. Not just sad or gloomy, but so deep into a hole that Molly worries she may not be able to pull Irene out of it.

Eventually, Irene rests her head on Molly's shoulder. Thankfully, her tears have now subsided, but the emotions are far from gone. Molly pats her back and whispers, "I'm here for you. I'm always here for you… please, just tell me what's going on."

Irene sniffles, rubs her eyes, and starts to explain: "You know Greg Lestrade, right?"

"Yeah."

"I was at the cafe, reading my book, when he came by and chatted for a bit. It went well enough at first, but eventually he asked me out on a date. When I told him I was flattered, but that I'm gay and have a girlfriend, he… he called me a 'lying whore' and grabbed my arm. I managed to get away… think I might have sprained my wrist, though…"

"That motherfucker," Molly growled, her face darkening for a minute before softening again. "Did you put any ice on your wrist?"

"Not yet, no."

"Here, let's take care of that, then."

Molly stands up and strides over to the mini-fridge in the corner of their room. Within just a few seconds, she has fashioned a makeshift icepack out of a Ziploc baggie and some ice cubes. She returns to Irene's bed, gingerly takes her girlfriend's hand, and presses the ice against her wrist.

Irene winces, then lets out a soft moan of relief.

"Better?"

"…a little bit, yeah."

"OK, just keep it on for 20 minutes, take it off for 20 minutes, and then alternate back and forth. I'm gonna go take care of this."

Molly kisses Irene before hopping off the bed, only for the timid brunette to place a hand on her shoulder.

"Mol, please, you don't have to do anything. I don't want to make a fuss, and—"

"Irene, listen to me. You are one of the most incredible, kindest, sexiest girls I've ever met. And I am not going to let Greg fucking Lestrade of all people walk all over you like that."

Irene stares at her for a few seconds. Finally, she nods meekly. "OK."

Molly gives her a quick hug, then walks out of their room and exits the dorm. Ten minutes later, she's pounding on Greg's door. When he answers and sees her face, he smiles cordially.

"Hey, Molly! How's it goi—"

She interrupts him with a hard punch to the face.

"OW!… what the fuck—"

"That was a warning," she growls, pointing a finger at him. "If you ever disrespect my girlfriend again, I will beat the living shit out of you."

"Who the bloody hell's your girlfriend?"

"Irene Adler."

"Are you kidding me? That stupid—"

She winds up another punch and Lestrade hastily changes course. "Yeah, yeah, sure! Whatever you say!"

"…and you need to apologize to her. Today."

"Of course. I'll go right now."

Molly stares at him menacingly for a little while longer, then turns and walks off. Deciding that it would be awkward if both of them went back to Irene, she decides to wait at the library.

An hour or two later, she's focused intently on her phone when a pair of familiar arms hug her from behind. Irene kisses her on the head and whispers, "I don't know what you did… but thank you."

"You're welcome," Molly responds with a smile.