I finally got around to getting this request finished! Hope you all enjoy it!

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Request by romiross: Hi! I want to make a request: Sherlock notes that Molly and Lestrade get along very well. Perhaps too well. And John input about how impressed was Lestrade with Molly's since That Christmas doesn't Help Sherlock's discomfort. Yes, is a jealous Sherlock. Could you do it?

(Hope you enjoy it!)

He watched from a distance as she leaned towards Inspector Lestrade. His eyes narrowed, at the subtle way he touched Molly's back, and she smiled, sweetly. Perhaps too sweetly.

He pushed through the doors, and watched as she lifted her head, and her sweet smile faded from her face. He wondered fleetingly what happened to her sweet smile.

He sent a glare towards Lestrade, and moved to the table. "Molly,"

"I'll be with you in a moment, Sherlock." She interrupted, turning to Lestrade. "I'll have the tox reports back in a few hours."

Lestrade nodded, and stepped back with a bow of his head towards Sherlock. "I'll see you tonight, Molly."

"Tonight, Greg." She confirmed, with another sweet smile, as Lestrade stepped out of the room.

Sherlock glared at her, wanting to say something that would stop her from meeting the inspector. "You have a date?" He asked, though he had observed it for himself.

Molly hummed, and turned to the table where some specimens waited. "What do you need?" She asked, and right away his mind went to a different time when she had asked that question.

He swallowed, and turned his head. "Nothing," He answered, backing up, and turned to the door. He paused, and looked over his shoulder at her. "You know that he's not divorced yet." He remarked, watching her still her movements.

She lifted her head, and frowned. "What's your point?" She asked, her face giving a scolding look.

He turned to face her, and his eyes held a serious note. "It's not…" He began, trailing off when she lowered the scalpel in her hand, and moved around the table.

"It's not what, Sherlock?" She asked, heading him off. She crossed her arms, and her frown deepened.

He searched her face, and took in her stance; her body gave off the vibe of anger and tension. Something was wrong, but he wouldn't deduce it. He gave a nod to her, and turned on his heel, and left her in the lab.

Molly lifted her head, and a confused expression appeared on her face. Slowly, a smile touched her lips, and she lowered her eyes.

He was jealous.

~XXX~

"Sherlock, what is the problem?"

Sherlock stared out of the window. His mind focusing on the events of the morning, and he still couldn't figure out the problem. No, it wasn't a problem. It was…

"Nothing, Watson," He answered, after a moment.

John pursed his lips, and slowly nodded. "Then why have you been staring out the window for the past hour, murmuring something about him not being good enough for her?" He asked, watching his friend closely.

"Because he's not, Watson," Sherlock stated, whirling around, throwing his robe in a circular motion.

John studied his friend, and slowly, his mind started to piece together forming a nearly complete puzzle. Sherlock had not been the same since he came back from Bart's. "Who is Molly seeing?" John asked, knowing only one person could bring this reaction from him.

Sherlock stiffened, and moved to the couch. His face drawn like a child's, as he flopped down, and began to curl up in the fetal position, but not before he muttered Lestrade's name.

John smiled, and moved towards his friend, knowing the reason. "Ah, so Greg finally asked her out, well, I'm not surprised. They have gotten pretty close since the Christmas party last year."

Sherlock rolled over, and his eyes narrowed at his friend. "They are not close, Watson." He argued, and Watson bit his tongue from laughing.

"Oh, then what would you call it?" John asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

Sherlock frowned even more, and rolled back over his body tensing up.

"It wouldn't surprise me if, after Greg's divorce is finalized, they become an item." John continued, smiling as he spoke.

Sherlock tightened his position, before rolling off the couch, and stomped passed John and out the door, stopping only to grab his coat, and leave his robe on the floor.

John smiled, as the front door slammed behind his friend, and bowed his head. "Finally,"

~XXX~

He stood inside her apartment, waiting, hoping, and hating the cat that curled up in his lap, seeking comfort. He heard her outside the door, and the lock coming undone before the door opened, and she entered with her head down, and she turned to close and lock the door behind her.

"Toby, I'm home." She called, taking off her coat and scarf, placing them on the coat rack beside the door. "Toby…" She called once more, and stopped when she stepped in the doorway leading to the sitting room.

"Please don't disturb the beast, Molly." Sherlock remarked, slowly moving the cat, gently to the coach as he stood up. "It took forever to get that pest asleep." He added, moving towards her, watching her eyes widen and her mouth opened in shock. "Molly, do close your mouth, it's unbecoming." He instructed as her mouth closed.

"Sherlock, what the devil are you doing here?" She asked, in a demanding tone.

He sighed, and she noticed how nervous he became from her question. "How was your date?" He asked, trying to remain unemotional, but a slight quiver of his tone gave him away.

She smirked, and shrugged her shoulders. "Oh, you know, we had a great time." She answered, as his eyes sparked with anger. "We laughed and had drinks and…Sherlock!" She screeched, as he threw something against the wall in the hallway, barely missing the picture she had carefully put up of her parents.

He rolled his head back, and turned to walk around her. "I hope you'll be very happy, Molly Hooper." He growled out, moving towards the door.

She shook her head, and followed him. "Now hold on just a moment, Sherlock." She began, as he stopped at the door with his hand outstretched towards the doorknob. "What's really going on?" She asked, stepping towards him with only two steps. "Sherlock," She demanded, in a scolding tone.

"You deserve better, Molly." He stated, turning his head to look at her over his shoulder. "You deserve a much smarter man than Lestrade." He added, lowering his eyes.

She smiled, faintly, and shifted on her feet. "Someone like you?" She asked, watching him smirk, before it fell.

"You don't need someone like me." He answered, lowly, his baritone voice strong and full of emotion.

She bowed her head and stepped even closer, raising her hand to touch his arm. "Actually, you've never been more wrong." She corrected, as he turned to face her. "Greg and I are just friends, nothing more. My heart…" She paused, holding his eyes. "Belongs to you."

He swallowed, and closed his eyes. "Thank God," He whispered, before scooping her up in his arms, and crushed his lips on hers for a searing kiss which left them both shaking with passion. "I can't say the words, but you should know…"

She shook her head, and smiled as she placed her fingers on his lips, as he set her down on the floor. "You don't have to say them." She responded, tearfully.

He smiled, and let out a breathless laugh before pulling her into his embrace, content for the first time in days.

"Remind me to thank George later." He remarked, hearing her laugh in his ear as he pulled back and pressed his lips on hers once more.

On second thought, best not give the Inspector a big head. Sherlock thought, jealousy lining the tone in his head.

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