"So you really came all the way from Africa just because I kept calling you? You sound like a protective boyfriend," Molly teased as Jim grumbled yet again about what he was missing by having coffee with her. He glared at her.
"If you must know, I came all the way from Africa because you kept calling me and I was about ready to just murder you, Molly."
"Huh. Less romantic when you put it that way."
"Not romantic at all. I'm not interested in you, sweetheart, but you started this damned game and I'm going to finish it."
"Sure you are. Just depends on how it ends-"
"Me standing over your dead body, Molly Hooper, that's how it ends." He stood up, placing money on the table with his lips pursed. "If you'll excuse me, I have a meeting to attend through Skype, due to an incompetent pathologist-" She stood as well, slamming her hands on the table and scowling. Her voice was deep, dark, and threatening (which Jim found highly endearing. Molly Hooper was just full of surprises).
"You can say what you want about me. You can say I'm ugly, I'm fat, I'm the stupidest person you've ever met- I can deal with that. I've put up with Sherlock saying it for ages. But the one thing you cannot say is that I am not good at my job. I am the best damned pathologist in that idiotic hospital. I make the most precise measurements and cuts, Moriarty, and I could make good work of your face when you end up dead on my table. Do you understand me?" He reached across the table and gently caressed her cheek.
"Oh, I hear you, Molly Hooper. I hear you loud and clear." He kissed the cheek where his hand just was and left her standing at the table in a daze.
So I get two awards: the awards for 'World's Shortest Chapter' and 'World's Most Annoying Author'. I've got a bit of writer's block on this, so any ideas you want incorporated into this story, leave a review and I will try my hardest!