Sherlock was not sure how this all happened. One minute he was at the lab, the next he is sitting at the bar, hearing gory stories from surgeons about the weirdest thing they've ever pulled out of someone. He had to admit, the weirdest thing was a matted dog hair ball. The stupid patient had said it was their own hair so they didn't sound weird. Sherlock had to smile at that before focusing on the real reason he joined his little ragtag group.
A plastic surgeon had come down, asked about a skin flap, told Molly if everything went ok with the baby he was going to use it for, that they were all going out for drinks, and since she helped with the skin flap, she was invited as well. Sherlock had stayed all day in the lab, waiting to see if she was going out with the tall, irritating, doctor that seemed to make her blush more than he was doing these days.
She had worn a button up a little too big for her, jeans too tight for her, and shoes that were... Sherlock had to admit, perfect for her. They have her a little height and seemed to keep her comfortable and on the move. She had been his reason for coming tonight, she asked out of politeness, she never thought he would say yes, and here he was, beer in hand, watching her cheer with the baby's newest stats since she was doing well, and she took her shot.
He knew it was her third, she was a bit of a lightweight, and now the stupid man who does boobs and lipo pulled her to the pool table, saying that they must all be good with their hands... but not everyone was good with their aim.
He claimed Molly on his team, and Sherlock was glaring at the man as he moved to give Molly's stick a nice... did he say rub down?
Sherlock shook his head and tipped his beer back before he took his glare from the doctor to Molly as she told him that she was rather good, that she got good at pool a long time ago.
"I'll have to see that for myself. I like finding out how good some people are first hand."
He winked at her, the bloody stupid doctor winked at her and she had the gall to giggle and look away! This just could not be happening. Molly was smarter than this. She didn't date plastic surgeons!
Sherlock was at war with himself, either he kept drinking and watching over her, making sure that man was not going to take advantage, or he was going to interrupt and take her with him.
She lined up her shot, he had let her go first, what a gentleman!
Sherlock was seething as he watched the guy look down her ass, tilting his head and nodding as if he saw something there that asked if it was ok.
Sherlock stood and Molly looked over at him, gave him a smile before focusing on her stick, her ball, and then she shot, getting three balls in three different pockets.
He knew that she was good at pool, he had used her as a hustler for a case, he knew that she grew up around bars since her father was an alcoholic and the barman would let her do her homework on the back computer, and she got grocery money back as a hustler as a teenager before her father died. She wasn't a hustler anymore, but she could very well make enough money to pay her way through medical school if she hadn't had a large income from a insurance payout.
Sherlock watched her take two more shots before she missed just barely, and she smiled as she looked at the table. She backed and the next team, a pediatrician and an anesthesiologist took up the other team.
He watched them suck, and then the other doctor, Sherlock was sure he was named Rudy or something with an R. He watched them, downing his beer when he turned and hugged Molly after sinking one easy ball that she had set up for him. He twirled her calling themselves a team and Sherlock sneered at the idea of them.
Molly waited her turn again, and she kept jumping, laughing, having a good old time. She wasn't aware that the next three shots that she sank messed up her shirt, she wasn't aware that she was basically giving her fellow doctors a good show of her 'goods' each time she bent over.
It wasn't until Sherlock grabbed her arm, she had been facing him as she lined up this next shot so she was worried about why he was pulling her away. "What? Sherlock?" She asked as he started to take off his blazer and putting it around her.
"You are not so desperate to show everyone everything are you Molly? I get that it has been a while but no need to bend over and show the entire bar what you look like in red lace." He hissed at her and Molly looked down to see that three buttons had come undone from her button up.
"Sherlock-"
"I get you have a thing for this Dr. Randy, but really Molly, in a public bar-" He was forced to turn his face as she smacked him, hard. He was sure that it was going to sting for a few minutes.
"How dare you assume I did that on purpose." She moved to quickly button herself up, getting her breath, and she was thankful he was still mostly blocking her and as she looked over to Dr. Reginald, he winked at her and smirked and she realized he thought she had done it on purpose. "Oh my god."
"Want to go home now?"
"Leave me along Sherlock." She pushed at him, getting him far enough away and going for her jacket and then getting outside. She was being silly, she knew she was. Sherlock was trying to help, she had two beers and three shots, and her head was fuzzy, but... did he just think I was showing off my body on purpose?
She looked back, seeing Sherlock getting himself righted and he stopped out on the pubs doorstep and looked at her as if he was expecting something. "You thought... You thought I was doing it all on purpose." She repeated and he coughed and looked around as he stepped closer.
"Come now Molly, even Dr. Rudy thought it was on purpose. You have been giggling, and blushing at him more than you do me."
"Are you insinuating something Sherlock?"
"Yes. I am. I see the way he looks at you, and you look at him. Foreplay usually isn't done in public-"
Again, sherlock wasn't sure how he kept getting smacked, but here he was, on the street, both cheeks still burning from her skin on skin contact with him, and he saw her stalking off to the tube.
He rolled his neck, getting his body ready for a run and probably dodge. Two smacks were his limit but she was known to throw three.
He got to the tube and went right to where she was sitting. Her bag was on her side and she was pissed as she sat there. "So you don't like Dr. Rudolf?"
"Sherlock-"
"He likes you. He was flirting and looking at your body-"
"Sherlock!" She shouted and he winced before pulling his face out of her reach. "Dr. Reginald is married, two kids, and he is a good doctor. He loves his wife. He said I look like her when they met. I took it as a compliment, and yes he's creepy, but I can't help but blush at compliments. Apparently to him there isn't a single thing he would change about me."
"Of course there is nothing to change about you!" Sherlock shouted as if she was inferring there was something that could improve her.
"You're the one that pointed out my small mouth, my small boobs, how I tried to compensate-"
"That was because you're... you were trying to look nice for another man by enhancing things that were already perfect." Sherlock stuttered, just a bit, and Molly felt a little confused.
"Are you saying they're not too small?"
"I am saying you shouldn't feel the need to change or enhance anything about you because you're just how you're supposed to be." He waved his hand and looked out for her hand coming towards him out of the corner of his eye, and as the train arrived for her way of flat, they both stood.
"Why are you coming with me?"
"You have had too much to drink, I am escorting you home so no one hurts or takes advantage." He waved her in and she rolled her eyes before went in. They were sitting close now, on a two seater and his leg was flush with hers and he moved his shoulders before putting one behind her.
"You assumed I was changing myself for another man?" She asked as she turned to break the leg contact, but the eye contact was just a bit worse. She knew he could see her. Could see all of her, it might as well be on a big screen on the busiest street in London. Sherlock's personal groupie.
Molly saw him thinking and she tried not to look down at his lips, but they were perfect, unlike hers they were big and full and... perfect. His eyes were the perfect shade of blue, his nose and cheekbones were perfect! How did this man not see that she wanted to be pretty for him, that she wanted to dress up and catch his eye?
She turned her face away from him, knowing he saw it all, and she focused out the little window to see the dark tunnels. She only lived two stops away from Barts, so at the second, they both stood and he walked with her home. She was trying to stop her hand from shaking so she could get the door unlocked when his hand took hers and his back pressed hard against her back.
"I really don't like sharing Molly." He whispered as he put the key in her door, he still had her hand in his and they turned the key together. "I don't like others looking at you. I don't like it one bit. I am a selfish man." He moved his lips from her ear to her neck and he gave her a small kiss, a short suck, and he pushed the door open.
"What do you mean by sharing Sherlock?" She asked as she walked in, away from him, and he stayed where he had been as he looked over her face again.
"Means I don't like it when the woman... the woman I love shows off her lips, or her body in a tight black dress. I don't like that I am selfish and rude. I don't like that I pointed out your extremities in a harsh and uncaring way because I didn't want another man to notice what I had. I don't like seeing you in another mans arms, giggling at another mans jokes or blushing at another mans compliments. I don't like it."
"If you're not going to do anything to stop them from doing it what is the point?" She asked and moved to slam her door in his face but he pushed it back open and walked in, gathering her close and he noticed he was breathing a lot harder than she was.
"If I did something... when I do something … you're going to be sober and remember what it feels like." He looked over her face, seeing her slim lips that would feel so soft under his, he looked at her neck and then up to her honey brown eyes. Everything about her that Dr. Reggie said was true. She didn't need work done. She was perfect the way she is.
He leaned down, glazing his lips over hers and adding just a bit more pressure. She moaned and sighed and he knew that she had too much to drink to consent, so he pulled away. "You sleep, I will be here for breakfast tomorrow."
"Tomorrow?" She blinked and he smiled this time, getting her to cheer up a bit.
"Tomorrow after you have had enough time to sober up and consent."
"I consent. I consented years ago." She whined and he smirked this time and moved to get her closer to her bedroom. Whining came before the tiredness she was going to feel.
He told her to get in bed, and he locked up and left her to dream about what tomorrow would bring.
Sherlock went home and saw there was still finger prints on one cheek, the second one she had slapped and he had to admit, he hoped it was the last time she ever had a reason to smack him.