I am so happy you all liked the last drabble! I had a lot of fun with it, and your kind reviews made me smile all day!
This was a prompt fill for the wonderful iamazonian, who wanted a fic where Molly beat Sherlock at a sport.
John Watson watched in amusement as Sherlock attempted to flirt covertly with his pathologist girlfriend (he was failing). DI Lestrade burst into the lab, Sergeant Donovan trailing behind him. "Molly! I need your assistance! You and Sherlock will be going undercover to a Couples' Retreat. We have learned that Simon Kelly, a high-end jewel thief, will be there this weekend, and this may be our only chance to catch him."
Sherlock looked about to protest when Molly cut in. "Of course, we'll help you! Isn't that right, Sherlock?!" He grimaced when she elbowed him but did not refute her claim.
"Our source tells us that he enjoys playing tennis. We need you to distract him long enough for us to search his room. Do you think you can handle that?" Lestrade questioned, staring at the pair.
Molly smiled and nodded vigorously while Sherlock merely groaned.
Thirty minutes later, he and John were headed back to Baker Street so he could pack. Molly had arranged to meet them there later that evening, saying she needed to "pick up some things." Sherlock shrugged that off as yet another thing he had yet to comprehend about women.
He was rather apprehensive about this assignment, not wanting to put Molly in danger. Lestrade had assured him that the risks were minimal. At the very least, he would be able to spend a weekend with Molly. Maybe he could impress her with an unexpected aptitude for tennis. Although he had never played, he knew the general concept. How difficult could it be for someone as brilliant as him?
Sherlock crossed his arms and jutted his lower lip, ignoring the giggling woman sitting next to him. She rubbed his arm soothingly in an attempt to assuage some of his embarrassment. "It really isn't that big of a deal, Sherlock. It could have been worse."
He twisted around suddenly, hitting his bandaged wrist on the arm of his chair as he did so. He winced in pain, breathing heavily for a moment. "How on earth could it have been worse, Molly? Not only did you humiliate me on the tennis court, but I also sprained my wrist when I dove to return one of your volleys!" His girlfriend was finding far too much enjoyment in his discomfort. The pouting detective turned from her once more before he continued.
"On top of that, Lestrade and Donovan were only able to apprehend the suspect because he was too busy ogling you! You distracted him with your exquisite serve and flawless technique, not to mention your outfit! Where did you manage to acquire such a tiny skirt?!"
"You know I used to play tennis with my dad. I was on the team at school! And if you must know, I bought this because I thought you would enjoy it!" She threw her hands in the air at this outburst. "Never mind, it isn't important. You should rest. Greg said we could stay until tomorrow." Her face divulged her disappointment, and Sherlock internally berated himself.
"Molly, I apologize. John will tell you how petulant I become when I am in pain. Add to that the fact that another man was gawking at my pathologist, and I am feeling rather ill-tempered this evening. I do not wish for you to assume I am angry with you, however." He reached for her with his good arm and pulled her onto his lap, nuzzling her shoulder.
Molly relaxed into his embrace and cupped his face, kissing him tenderly on the nose. "It really shouldn't surprise me that you were so bothered by the fact that I beat you. You are so accustomed to being the best at everything. I suppose I may have shown off a little, hoping you would be impressed," she confessed quietly, as if ashamed of herself.
Sherlock drew her in for a passionate kiss before drawing back and resting his forehead against hers. "While I admit I was annoyed, it was because I had agreed to this operation under the belief that I could amaze you with my innate proficiency in tennis. Obviously, I misunderstood the skill required and made a fool of myself in front of the one person whose opinion I hold above all others."
He stroked her hair for a moment, gathering himself. "That being said, I did rather enjoy watching you strut around the court in that skirt. The precision with which you served ace after ace made me wish I could halt the game and bring you back here to show you how much I appreciated your talent. I was becoming very uncomfortable sitting on the sideline," he admitted, his ears turning a rather vibrant shade of red.
She wrapped her arms around him, astonished by his declaration. "Sherlock, you don't have to be perfect for me to love you. In fact, I like knowing that you're human, too. It makes me feel less inadequate compared to you. If you'd like, I could be your private tennis instructor after your wrist heals," she whispered seductively into his ear.
"You, Molly Hooper, could never be inadequate. And I would like that very much. Granted you wear that outfit to our lessons."
