anonymous asked: Warstan, Sherlolly and Mythea / 'Guardians and Girls'
A/N: Blame this on the fact that I recently rewatched 'Guardians of the Galaxy'. Also, John is a genetically-engineered intelligent raccoon. Just go with it. Rated K+ (and originally posted on AO3 August 2017, but missed adding it here, whoops!)
"We're hit!"
"Yes, thank you Molly, I can see that," Sherlock snipped as he staggered into the flight deck, still buttoning up his dress shirt. The man refused to give up on Terran fashion even after 10 years as a member of the larger galactic community.
Molly would never stop finding it, in Mary's words, 'a tiny bit sexy.'
"Do pay attention to the controls rather than my attire, I'd rather we didn't end up a mass of exploding gasses just because you were distracted by your attraction to m…SON OF A BITCH!" he roared as Molly executed a perfect barrel roll and dodged the barrage of blaster fire their current nemeses - more sodding bounty hunters sent by that Ravager scum, Magnussen, no doubt. The man really did not know when to give up.
"What was that you were saying?" Molly asked sweetly as she righted the ship and watched while John blasted the enemy craft into a mass of exploding gasses. He might be a ball of rage wrapped up in fur, but he was an amazing shot, no question about it.
How Mary could stand being married to the little guy was a mystery to them all, but one never questioned the tastes of a former assassin and 'daughter' of Thanos.
Instead of answering Molly's question, Sherlock merely grinned, leaned over her seat, and pressed a quick kiss to her lips while everyone - Molly included, once her mouth was free - gaped at him. "What?" he asked, looking around innocently. "I'm just as attracted to her as she is to me, I thought you all claimed to be observant?"
"Yes, yes, brother dear, it's lovely that you finally got your head out of your arse and acted on that attraction," Mycroft drawled as he poked his head around the corner of the entrance to the flight desk. "But can we possibly get on with retrieving the cargo Magistrar Lestrade hired us to find? The man is paying us an incredible sum for the Borgia Pearl, after all."
"Yeah, bro, we're on it," was Sherlock's cheeky response. "And when we get to his court and present it to him, then maybe that lovely, intelligent spymaster of his will finally give you the time of day. What was her name, again? Andrea?"
"Anthea," Mycroft corrected him with a scowl - and very pink cheeks. "And for you information, she's already given me far more than just 'the time of day'." He sniffed haughtily. "If you're done canoodling with our pilot and get this bucket moving, perhaps we'll make it back to Baskerville in time for the birth of your niece."
He vanished as suddenly as he'd appeared, leaving the remaining crew gaping at one another…except his brother. Sherlock slumped into his seat with a pout. "Git," he grumbled. "I should have known he'd find some way to make the moment I finally let Molly know that I love her all about him."