Covering the Bases

Genre: Friendship, with brief romance

Pairings: Greg and Molly

Main characters: Greg, Molly, Sally

Mollstrade tie-ins: The Chosen Ties that Bind "The Sensation of Survival"

"Are you absolutely sure, love?" Greg asked Molly as they lounged under their covers. It had been a long week for Greg, with one of his friends and subordinates, Sally Donovan, having been wounded in the line of duty 10 days prior. "You've already got your hands full between our boys and Rosie upstairs. I'm not sure it's fair to put more onto you."

"Of course I'm sure, Gregory. I mean yes, I'm busy, even now that we're moved in to Baker Street and with everyone's help, but I'd welcome the company. Trust me darling, I wouldn't even suggest it if I weren't sure," Molly pointed out. She wiggled closer to Greg, nuzzling his neck. She felt him shiver slightly as her breath brushed across his skin and smiled to herself. He was putty in her hands with certain wifely wiles put into practice. "Besides," Molly continued, "she gets along like a house on fire with the boys, and Rosie thinks she's the bee's knees." She tilted her head up to softly run a line of feathery kisses along his jawline, smiling as he caught his breath.

"Well, alright. Never could say no to you, love," he said when he'd found his voice again, tightening his arms around his wife. "I'll run it past her," Greg promised. "I agree it's a good idea in theory, but whether or not Sally agrees will be another matter entirely."

And so it came to pass, that Sergeant Sally Donovan, on a medical leave from New Scotland Yard to recover from a bullet wound, was moved into 221C Baker Street while she finished recovering from an attempt on her life. The incident had given her the closest call of her career, not to mention ruining Sherlock's favourite scarf and scaring the ever loving shit out of both him and Greg - though that wasn't something they had let sink in until they were at the hospital waiting for news from the surgeons. Only when Molly and John had arrived at St. Bart's to keep vigil with them did they allow themselves the luxury of falling apart.

"Are you sure?" Sally had asked Greg, with more than a little cautious skepticism. "Molly is okay with this?"

Greg had smiled at her warmly. "Yes, of course I'm sure. It was Molly's idea, in fact," he said to her reassuringly. "We have more than enough room at 221C for a house guest. It isn't permanent, maybe a month or six weeks or so, just until you're all healed up and back on your feet. John said it's gonna be awhile before you can return to duty but in the meantime we can make sure you heal properly before you move back into your flat."

"Well… I won't lie, the offer is tempting. Molly's got so much on her plate already though…" Sally hated to be a bother, but she'd also be lying to herself if she denied that going home and trying to manage by herself was a daunting and slightly frightening prospect.

"Well yeah, but don't forget, she's a doctor. And John's just upstairs as well, he's already our GP. You won't be lacking for medical assistance for damn sure," Greg laughed. Sally gave him a sarcastic smile and all but made a face at him. He wasn't Sherlock, after all, he may be her friend Greg, but he was also still DI Lestrade, her superior officer, and even off-duty, irreverence was uncalled for.

"Molly is a pathologist," Sally reminded him, cocking her head and giving him a smartass look. "So what, if I move into Baker Street for a month of recovery time, between Molly and John I'm looked after whether I live or die, eh?"

Greg threw his head back with a booming laugh. "Just covering all the bases," he winked. "Good to see you picked up on that. That's why I keep you around, Donovan. Quick on your feet. Glad to see you're still sharp."

Sally sighed, a soft rush of breath that was one part reservation and four parts relief. "Well, I guess I'll have to learn to live with the Git upstairs for a while," she said lightly with a wry crooked smile.

"Yeah, about that, he sent a message," Greg quipped. "Said to tell the Old Plod not to worry about a thing, he'd be by for your weekly appointments even without the pints. Said picking your ass makes his life more complete, or something like that. Said he wouldn't miss it for anything."

Sally grinned, a gleam of mischief in her eyes that Greg had seriously worried over the past week and a half if he'd ever see again. "Well, when you put it that way," the Sergeant said softly, "tell Molly that I gratefully accept the invitation. And tell Sherlock I'm holding him to that promise."