Troublemaker
"Are those pop-tarts? I thought you were craving pizza?" Sherlock asked, dropping the pizza box and his phone on the table before walking through to the living room to take off his coat and scarf.
"You were taking too long. Pop-tarts were all I could find. I'll still manage the pizza though. Eating for two, remember; pop tarts for the baby, and pizza for me." Molly told him sweetly, struggling up from the kitchen table and waddling through the door to the living room, to watch Sherlock. "And you can have a slice or two of the pizza. None of this not-eating-while-working stuff. How was the case anyway?"
"The case is a fairly straight forward theft, nothing exciting. Turns out the family hiring me are old family friends from my childhood though." Sherlock explained finishing taking off his things and ushering her back into the kitchen, pulling out the chair for her to sit back down.
"Well that's nice." Molly smiled up at him, her eyes flicking to the pizza box.
Sherlock picked up the pizza box and carried it over to the side to dish up. "If you say so." He muttered, digging for knives and forks. Suddenly his phone began ringing from the table. "Who is it? He asked Molly.
"Mycroft." Molly answered, looking at the caller ID.
"Ignore it." Sherlock instructed, moving on to searching for plates.
"Sherlock!" Molly protested. For a second he thought she had complied with his request though, as the ringing stopped. And then his brother's voice filled this kitchen, on speakerphone.
"Good afternoon, dear brother. I hear you've been visiting old friends this morning. How are the Buckleys?"
"Politics is your job, not mine Mycroft. I assumed you were up to date with all the goings on in the Upper Classes." Sherlock replied with disinterest.
There was a pause from Mycroft, and Sherlock could almost see him pursing his lips in annoyance.
"I know Lottie was recently married. And that Elsie still isn't. In fact she's not so much as seeing anybody. Never has. Her Father is under the impression that the poor lonely girl has never even been kissed… but you and I both know that isn't true." Mycroft said, aiming low in his comeback.
Sherlock's step faltered on the way to the table, his eyes meeting Molly's wide ones with a wince.
"Was there a reason for your call, Brother, besides upsetting my wife with idle gossip?" He snapped at the phone.
There was a sharp intake of breath from the other end of the phone. "Molly. My apologies. I didn't realise you were listening in."
Molly's mouth opened and closed several times, still too shocked to come up with an adequate response. Finally she managed a breathless and shaky; "H…hello. M…Mycroft."
Another pause from the end of the line. "I merely wished to request you pass on my congratulations to the happy couple, and regards to the rest of the family, Sherlock" Mycroft answered his brothers' question with a surprising level of uncertainty.
"Tell them yourself." Sherlock muttered, pushing the end call button and sliding the phone off the table, into his pocket with one hand, while the other laid the plate of food before Molly. Once both his hands were free, he wrapped his arms around Molly, drawing her into him, despite her lame attempts to push him away.
"Molly… Molly, don't be silly, come here. What Mycroft was referring to… it was years ago, and it has no relevance."
"You told me old friends, not an old girlfriend." Molly mumbled unhappily.
"Because she's not. We were children for goodness sake. We kissed once, out of curiosity, and that was it."
"Is she pretty?" Molly mumbled, after a few seconds contemplation of his words
Sherlock was pleased her face was still pressed against his chest, so she couldn't see him rolling his eyes at her line of thought. "Wait here… you might as well start on that pizza, before it gets cold." He told her, releasing her from his arms, and striding quickly into the living room, snatching up his laptop and bringing it back to the table. He set it down for Molly to see and withdrew the flash drive with the files from the Earl. He plugged it in and opened up the photos, scrolling through quickly, before opening up one of the bride and her 4 bridesmaids laughing, letting it fill the screen. He pointed to Elsie, over on the far left. All the other girls were looking at her, clearly the source of the joke. She looked beautiful in her pale blue bridesmaid dress, which brought out her eyes perfectly, with the help of some very professionally applied make-up. Molly let out a soft 'oh' of disappointment.
"Of course I remember her very differently; as a child, not a woman. But I suppose even then she would have been considered pretty. She's pretty. Rich. Gregarious. Thirsty for knowledge. And wants me." Sherlock watched her lips quivering at his words, but went on, determined to make his point. After his description he crouched to be on her level, gently nudging her chin to make her turn and look him in the eyes. "But she's nothing compared to you."
Molly burst into tears, flinging her arms around him and squeezing tightly. Sherlock was concerned for a moment, that he had only upset her more. It was times like this he wished John was around, to explain to him where he had gone wrong. Then he heard her sob "Oh Sherlock…. You always say such… perfect things." And he allowed himself a victorious smile, before patting her back, and easing her off him, sitting her back up.
"Okay, I think your pregnancy hormones have got the better of you a bit. Just calm yourself down, and finish your pizza, okay? I have to work to do." He told her.
"But you didn't get a plate for yourself." Molly argued weakly, looking at the whole pizza on her plate.
Sherlock just smirked at her, snatching a slice off her plate and sitting opposite her with it, turning the computer towards him so he could carry on investigating the photos while he ate.
AN: Thanks again guys for the reviews, nice to hear that you're enjoying it. :)