Disclaimer: This fanfiction is not written for profit and no infringement of copyright is intended. Not beta read so all mistakes are mine.
#TheLittleWoman
"That's enough."
And Molly Hooper- teeny, tiny, less than-a-stone-wet Molly Hooper- slides in between Detective Inspector Jason Braddock and her boyfriend. Pushes herself into the older man's space, forcing him to back up.
Glowering, defiant, she crosses her arms and glares up at him, daring him to repeat what he just said. Daring him to call the man she loves- the man who just solved his crime for him- a freak once more.
Her expression promises unpleasant repercussions if he does.
To her right, several members of Braddock's team let out disbelieving snickers, clearly under the impression that a) Molly can't do anything to their guvnor and b) Sherlock must be an absolute pushover to need a woman protecting him. Holmes, on the other hand, merely stares down at his fiancée, eyes narrowed, face pensive. He's peering at her quizzically, the scrutiny so intense that it would make anyone else uncomfortable.
Molly, being Molly, doesn't mind however.
It's been a long time since she's felt uncomfortable under Sherlock's gaze.
His hand is wrapped protectively around her wrist, its slight tremor telling her how nervous he is though he's not showing it. The thought that this git is making him uncomfortable is enough to make Molly's blood boil but she refuses to give into first impulses and throw Braddock out of the Morgue- that would just be playing into his hands (and giving him an excuse to bother Lestrade).
Instead she holds his gaze, waits for him to crack (his sort always crack).
The silence stretches out uncomfortably.
She's very, very ok with that.
"Need the little woman to defend you, Holmes?" Braddock sneers eventually but though he drips bravado, Molly can see how his confidence is draining away. Perhaps Sherlock sees it too, for something flashes in his eyes. Something knowing. He doesn't answer, merely inclines his head curtly to Braddock.
"If Molly feels the need to defend me then I'm happy to be defended," he says evenly. "I shall merely endeavour to deserve it."
And he smiles that cold, hard smile which everyone hates so much.
Gives Molly's wrist an ever-so-slight squeeze before dropping it back at her waist.
Molly smiles. "The implication that you should be ashamed of being defended by a woman is idiotic," she points out, staring down Braddock.
"And the implication that one should be ashamed of being defended by this woman, who happens to be the finest medical mind at Bart's, is even more asinine," Sherlock adds.
"So why don't you bugger off and annoy someone else, eh, Jason?"
And with that he turns his back to the policemen, effectively dismissing them. "You heard him," Molly adds helpfully, eyeing up the other coppers. "Bugger off and annoy someone else."
With a huff of disgust Braddock and his boys flounce out of the Morgue, all three wearing expressions that look suspiciously like a communal slapped arse-
"You ok?" Molly asks quietly once they're gone, wrapping her arms around Sherlock's waist and laying her cheek against his back.
She hates to see him treated badly.
"Never better," he says softly. She doesn't need to be able to see his face to know that he's smiling. "Thank you, honeybee," he adds quietly-
And then they both get back to work.