Hey Ho. Ho hey. Anyway this is another story of one of my favorite OTPs and yes I have many OTPs. May I present the fabulous, the brilliant, the beautiful SHERLOLLY. Enjoy

It was a quiet Sunday, Molly's day off, and she was calmly reading her LIFE magazine. Even Sherlock was quite as he conducted a few expirimental over in the kitchen. Everything seemed to be quteiter since their children had left the house. No more boy running around all yelling at each other, no more crises. For once in her life Molly had some peace and quite. She hated peace and quite. Why would she involve herself with Sherlock Holmes and expect a life of peace and quite. Little did she know that the day was not yet over. Well I guess she did know. It was around 3 and the day was just past the middle mark, but I digress. She heard a knock on the doors to 221B and hurriedly went to open it. Sherlock didn't even look up from his microscope. Molly opened the door and standing on the other side was her middle son Remington. She hadn't seen Remmy since he had gone off with his brothers to start their own detective ...thing.
"Hello mom" he said. Molly smiled and pulled him into a hug. He was stiff and didn't budge.
"I missed you Remmy. Where on earth have you been" Molly asked as she released her rip from her son. Remington fussed with his mop of black curls and strode his way into the flat.
"Oh you know here and there. We got a really interesting case the other day from the American government about a thing called a 'Kardashian' and a "Kimye". Whatever it is it sounds dreadful" he calmly said. Remington again slid his fingers through his hair. If Molly knew anything about her children she knew their tells. With her older son he recited the bones in the human body. With her younger son he always did hand dexterity exercises. And her middle baby always ran his fingers through his hair.
"Are we nervious about something" asked Molly.
"Wouldn't you be if you where telling your parents about your new girlfriend" piped up Sherlock without moving a muscle.
"A girlfriend... Is that true Remmy" asked Molly. Remmington opened his mouth but closed it again.
"Molly don't be stupid. You can obviously tell from the way he is messing with his hair that he is worried as you pointed out. And if you look a his jacket you can see fibers from a woman's coat, also his lips are a very light shade of pink unnoticeable to a untrained eye. This suggests he has been in the company of a female, I.e. he is here to tell us he has a new girlfriend" ranted Sherlock. Remington sighed. He knew he'd never pull one over dad. Molly got excited all of a sudden and started to hammer Remingotn with questions. Do we know her? Is she smart like you? Where did you the meet? Does anyone else know? When do we get to meet her? Remington wasn't paying attention until the last question.
"She is actually outside" he said seeming to have forgot he had left her out there. Molly's mouth gaped open and she scolded him on leaving her out on the street by herself. She made her way to the door and once she had opened it she poked her head out and looked around.
"Molly how are you supposed to call her in if you don't know what she looks like" asked Sherlock. Molly apparently hadn't heard him and soon pulled a black haired girl from off the street.
"Sherlock you don't give me enough credit. I know what Remmy likes and this girl is it" said Molly. The girl giggled.
"Remmy, what kind of a name is that" she asked. Remington ran his fingers through his hair again. Sherlock seemed to have taken interest in this new development. He strides over to the girl. She had long black hair with light blue eyes like ice cubes and pale skin like a mint filling for a cupcake. She wore a silly mustard yellow slouch beret (hat) which had obviously been a gift from Remington seeing as she wore to meet his parents. She didn't have any jewlery evidence that see preferred simpler things against more elaborate set ups.
"Is your mother Swedish or Dutch" Sherlock asked. The girl was a little taken aback by his question.
"Why do you ask" she said. Remington groaned.
"Don't get him started" he begged, but it was to late.
"Your facial structure and over all appearance suggests someone of a mixed heritage. Not mixed as in your great grandfather married a gypsy but more like your father is English and your mother foreign. While you haven't told me your name by the looks of your face I can see you descend from around the Denmark and Sweden area. So I ask you again. Is your mother Swedish or Dutch" he deduced. The girl just stood there unwavered.
"Am I supposed to be impressed" she asked. Molly giggled in the background which Sherlock heard but chose not to hear.
"Yes you are" he said. The girl smiled.
"Fine then. I am slightly impressed. By the way my name is Priscilla" she held out her hand for him to shank but he blew her off. Priscilla didn't take to offensive. Remington told her how to deal with his dad and she had heard many stories of the detective from her father and mother. Molly motioned for her to sit down and she chose the seat next to Remmy.
"You didn't answer my question" Sherlocked asked. He looked at this girl and saw her grin with amusement.
"Indeed. My mother is Swedish, her maiden name was Blom, which means"
"Bloom" Sherlock said as he cut her off. Molly and Remington felt awkward. Sherlock lost interest in Pricilla and turned his attention to the newspaper which happened to have his face plastered on it.
"We'll that's a pretty name, is that your last name to" Molly asked.
"No, my last name is of English decent has correctly deduced. It means son of Andrew" Pricilla said. Sherlock stopped reading and slowly lowered his paper.
"Your last name is Anderson" he said. You could have heard a pin drop in that room.
"No relation to Anderson at Scotland Yard I assume" said Molly.
"Oh no that's my father" Pricilla said with an expression and tone that could only be described as smug.
"Unfortunate" Sherlock said.
"I agree" Pricilla retorted. Growing up with her father hadn't been easy. He loved her older brother and hated her. She still has a scar from when she told him that she got a higher test score than her brother and her arms where dotted with bruises to remind her of when she has told him about her new boyfriend.
"maybe we can save you yet" Sherlock replied. Was this girl really stupid enough to believe the he, Sherlock Holmes, wouldn't notice her wounds. She had done an amendable job but not good enough. He could see some purple showing through her eye makeup and she was wearing selves in the summer. It made his blood boil, this girl was intelligent, smart, and albeit pretty. Unfortunately she had the worst last name in the world. Why would anyone hurt her. Oh wait Anderson isn't a person, he's more of a useless slug feed off of the accomplishments of everyone else.
"I don't think there is any saving me" Pricilla mumbled
"Perhaps if thinks go well enough, you can change that last name of yours to something more respectable like Holmes for instance" Sherlock said. With this he got up and made his way to his bedroom.
"what's that supposed to mean, dad"

Well lookey there's and Anderson is among the Holmes midst. I though it would be cute to have one of the sons date an Anderson. Also people might say " why do you make Anderson abusive, he seems ok, Sherlock's the bully" we'll I will point out that Sherlock is a good judge of character and if he thinks Anderson's a douche then so do I. Also of your the one person who likes the Kardashians don't hate on me. I wanted a comedy element and that's what I came up with. Thanks For Reading