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Sherlock and John and Rosie (and Mrs. Hudson too)	By : GizmoTrinket Category: S through Z > Sherlock (BBC) > Sherlock (BBC) Views: 4625 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I don't own Sherlock in any iteration, BBC or otherwise. I make no money from this work in any way, shape or form

Chapter List
- 4
- 5
- 6
A/N: Smut marked with ++++ at beginning and end. I combined ~4 chapters you'd find on AO3 so this chapter would be around the same length as the others. Warnings and prompts can be found at the end of the chapter to prevent spoilers. Sherlock POV
Chapter 5: Of Heavy Petting and Pets
++++
"Oh, fuck." John whispered when Sherlock momentarily separated their lips to turn his head for a better angle and lean into the kiss.
Sherlock kept his lips closed, pointlessly trying to reign in his enthusiasm. He also forced his hips from pushing against John's warm body exposing just how much the brunette needed the other man: body, mind and soul. Even if only one of the three was obtainable. It would have humiliated Sherlock if John hadn't moved his mouth to the long pale neck that was easier for him to reach and the consulting detective saw how the doctor wasn't hiding just how much he wanted this; his hands roamed as his mouth licked, sucked and bit marks every time he found a spot that made the younger gasp, moan or thrust his hips.
Once Sherlock's jacket found a new home on the floor and top three buttons of Sherlock's shirt were unfastened, the genius had given up trying to hide his desire and biting off whimpers in need John spun them so Sherlock clumsily walked backwards to the open living room door. John slammed it shut, simultaneously biting into a sensitive spot on Sherlock's shoulder and forcing his back against the door with a thud only slightly quieter than the sound of the door's echoing bang.
"John!" Sherlock groaned, his bruised spine sliding down his new found support. He carded his hand through John's short hair before yanking on strands long enough slip not to out of his grip.
John took the hint and moved his mouth back up to Sherlock's. Soon the blond man didn't have to stand on his toes to reach anymore and he took advantage of Sherlock's weakened knees to bite gently on the brunette's lower lip, pulling until his mouth opened. Sherlock was barely able to gasp a breath before John took advantage of his open mouth. His tongue brushed past Sherlock's teeth before circling, teasing, encouraging...
Sherlock thrust his tongue into John's mouth and lost it when John sucked on the tip of his tongue. He growled, grabbed John's hips, using his superior strength to force the smaller man against the door.
"Oh, fuck! Sherl-" John gasped.
As much as Sherlock wanted to hear John say his name a million times in pleasure: in small gasps, in choked exclamations, in pleading demands, in screaming ecstasy and in anything else the brunette had never heard from any of his other lovers. Sherlock yanked John's head up with another hair tug and forced their lips together. After a minute of licks, bites and snogging that would make the strongest person's knees weak Sherlock decided John's hips were far too low and the taller man allowed John's strong hand previously pulling his curls to wrap around the back of his head and control the kiss. He moved his large hands to grip John's hips, pulling them away from the door before squeezing and briefly massaging the most desirable arse he'd ever seen.
All of John's breath left through his nose, a puff Sherlock found more erotic than the moan accompanying it. John, clever, brilliant John, told Sherlock what to do next by flinging his other arm over Sherlock's shoulder, taking a handful of product filled hair into his hand and yanking it.
Sherlock's eyes rolled back and he separated their faces to do this properly. He gripped the bottom of John's arse and pulled, lifting until John could wrap his legs around Sherlock's waist. Once John's legs were secure Sherlock curled his large strong hands around his lover's hips so the thumb found a resting place inside of John's iliac crest and the brunette's long fingers dug into the taught muscle behind the ilium. Sherlock tilted his hips and ground John down so the erection the tailored trousers rarely hid slid behind John's perineum and against the seam of John's jeans.
The back of John's head smacked against the door. "Ohhhhhhh... God! Sherlock...!"
Sherlock felt John wiggle, adjusting his legs to get a tighter grip and his hips to a better angle. John's neck was at the proper height and completely exposed. Sherlock started licking along it, occasionally scraping his teeth trying to find vulnerable erogenous zones. It was beyond simple to know when he did as John would fling his head to expose the area, push Sherlock's head into it to get more pressure and vocalize loudly.
"Oh, oh! Right there! Oh, Sherl-"
At which point Sherlock found if he bit down and sucked savagely while grinding their hips together John would arch his back and bite his lip to hold in a scream.
Once John's neck was covered in magenta love bites John pushed against Sherlock's shoulders and weakly hit him until Sherlock noticed John's distress and stopped.
"John?" Sherlock held John in place but pulled his head away and held his hips still; stopping the repetitive thunking that Sherlock was surprised hadn't alarmed Rosie. Suddenly remembering that John's daughter was in the next room and realizing that Mrs. Hudson's television was so loud he the volume was maxed out made the brunette blush and killed the mood. "Oh! Sorry." He started lowering John.
John was more reluctant in putting his feet on the ground than Sherlock expected and once he spoke Sherlock knew why. "What? Oh!" John glanced at Sherlock's room. "No. I mean, yeah, we should move. But no. If you kept that up we'd both come in our pants like hormonal teenagers."
"So?"
John rolled his eyes. "So, that's not how I want our first time to go."
"You've imagined it? Our first time."
"Oh, god yes."
++++
"Yoo-hoo!" Mrs. Hudson knocked and the men sprang apart. She entered and shook her head. "Sorry to interrupt dears but you have clients."
Said clients entered and the consulting detective told them to sit and wait. "I'll be back; I have to tend to our baby." He snapped at the couple when the older woman opened her mouth to raise a fuss at their lack of focus.
Right on cue Rosie started crying.
Sherlock heard John rearranging chairs and scowled. The consulting detective hoped it was something juicy with a chase that would be over quickly. But those were few and far between. Sherlock almost wished the case was too boring to bother with.
Once Sherlock Rosamund was settled Sherlock checked his text.
From: The Woman
Happy anniversary to you both. Make sure to give him your gift. Now, go have dinner.

Sherlock smiled and wondered if John would protest when Angelo brought a candle this time. After all, the chef would have to remove a "Reserved" card from the table next to the window this time too.
----
Two weeks later and nothing had happened aside from an occasional pat to Sherlock's curls when John left for the surgery. Although one time the doctor pecked Sherlock's cheekbone when handing over tea. But they still slept in different bedrooms; there were no snogging sessions on the couch- they hadn't even kissed properly after what Sherlock had dubbed The Door Mishap due to the unfortunate teasing Mrs. Hudson had showered them with afterwards.
The brunette blamed it on the case; it seemed interesting at first but ended up being quite boring and time consuming. They arrived home late and John fell asleep as soon as he removed his shoes. They never had dinner and Sherlock's gift was still hiding under his sock index. Plus, Rosamund took not falling asleep to her lullaby personally and had been a fussy insomniac ever since.
It was maddening.
John still hadn't repeated The Three Words since Mary's death. Sherlock hoped the other man was just waiting for the brunette to take some initiative. The other possibility was that John considered the third most important evening of Sherlock's life a mistake (the first most important being seven years and two weeks ago, January 29th 2010, when John shot the cabbie, agreed to move in and Sherlock fell in love only barely winning over their original meeting) and was just pretending it didn't happen.
If the latter was the case then why was the blond running his hand through the brunette's curls and allowing Sherlock to rest his head on John's lap as they watched a movie?
The stress of not knowing finally became too much. The consulting detective grabbed John's hand in the middle of the current popular movie John insisted the other man watch and took a deep breath: "By the way," he hesitated to bolster his courage, "I love you too."
John's hand stilled.
Sherlock was suddenly sure he'd made a monumental mistake. They must have a 'bromance'; one of those awkward (for idiots) close male friendships that other people mistake for a romantic relationship. He sprung from John's lap.
Unfortunately John had just started moving down and the side of Sherlock's temple collided with the doctor's chin.
"Ow!" They cried in unison. John continued, "Bloody buggering fu-"
He was interrupted by Mrs. Hudson. "Yoo-hoo!" She came in the open door. "I brought up some nibbles. I noticed yesterday when cleaning the fridge that you've not done the shopping in a bit and figured it'd be nice to have a bite." She set the tray on the table and plopped down in-between them on the couch. "Oh, The Princess Bride. This is a classic! I love a good romance. It's a shame it took them so long to come together."
Rosamund chose that moment to start crying and Sherlock left to tend to her. When he returned Mrs. Hudson was leaving and John was flushed tomato red.
"John?"
"Hm?"
The younger of the two arranged his features into the expression that requested an explanation.
The blond replied with the expression that said he'd never repeat what she'd told him.
Sherlock demanded sternly, "John."
Said man angrily replied, "Fine!" He glared while continuing, "I know you've deduced this already and am just torturing me but she said I needed to be nicer to you."
The brunette snorted. "Both ridiculous, I can't read minds and I could never find someone who treats me better than you."
John seemed to find that funny and chucked darkly but Sherlock had no idea why. It was true.
++++
"But that's not what she actually said." Sherlock narrowed his eyes and teased, "You know I'll pester you until I find out."
His flatmate started looking sick.
"John?"
"I think I've had a stroke?" John said, lifting the last syllable as if he were asking a question.
Sherlock frowned. It didn't appear that John was joking and he was a doctor. The older man looked pale and clammy. Sherlock started to worry, "Why?"
"She just told me..." John shook his head. "She said I needed to get over myself and, quote, "Fuck you into the mattress already." Tell me that didn't happen and I've had an aneurysm."
The brunette was relieved. John clearly was fine and just overreacting. "It's not the first time she's told one of my boyfriends to- Mmrph!"
John cut him off with a biting kiss.
Sherlock took several steps backwards to avoid falling as John nearly tackled him.
They spun, fighting for dominance. Kissing, biting, fingers leaving bruises on hips and arms. Hair being yanked and pressure on zips causing discomfort. Sherlock was taller and stronger but John had military training and his leverage was benefited by his short stature.
"Fuck, fuck!" John swore as Sherlock knocked him into the post holding the glass panel separating the kitchen from the living room.
Sherlock nearly growled as he tried to pin John's wrists and found he couldn't manage against the thin wood pillar.
"Bedroom!" John gasped between kisses.
"Yes. Good idea. Smart John. Brilliant John." Sherlock managed to snag the baby monitor before chasing his doctor upstairs.
The couple fell onto the bed, a tangle of limbs, teeth and elbows.
Sherlock had never felt more alive. "John, John, John, John, John..."
He didn't realize he was speaking out loud until John countered him, "Oh, god, Sherlock."
Hearing his name out of John's mouth in that tone, in this context nearly made Sherlock lose it. He pulled himself up, fighting with his clothes, forgetting that he had to undo the buttons on his cuffs if he wanted to remove his shirt and that shoes had to come off before trousers and pants could.
Luckily John knew all these things and between the two of them Sherlock was finally free of clothing. John was still wearing his vest and pants and suddenly the brunette felt rather self conscious.
But, John was staring at Sherlock's cock with zealous rapture and Sherlock found the attention intriguing. When John licked his lips Sherlock felt his prick bounce, the erection bobbing as he tried to not take matters into his own hand and come all over John's clothing.
John dropped to his knees.
'Or come all over John's face.' The younger of the two mentally added.
John spit in his hand then wrapped it around Sherlock's cock and gave a few tentative pulls.
"God! Jooohnnn."
"Jesus, you're sensitive."
It was a comment that would normally embarrass the taller man but John said the words with such envy the brunette didn't care.
"I want to... I need to suck you. Condom! Fuck! We need condoms."
Sherlock realized the problem. John hadn't used condoms since he proposed to Mary. Sherlock hadn't been tested since before his last hook-up and Mary was most certainly cheating on John before they wed. John hadn't been tested either.
"I have some." Sherlock blushed. When John looked relieved and expectant the taller man continued, "Hold on."
"Hurry." John demanded as he removed his vest.
The brunette shook off the distraction that was a topless John, took the other man's dressing gown and ran downstairs. Sherlock opened his beside drawer, moving aside his vibrator and pulling out the lube and a box of condoms. Luckily they weren't expired.
Sherlock hurried back up to John's room, taking the steps three at a time.
The doctor had clearly given head before. After arranging Sherlock on his back atop the bed John climbed between his legs and popped the condom in his mouth. The doctor then slid his mouth down and applied the barrier without help from his hands besides one holding Sherlock's prick steady at the base.
"Oh my GOD John!"
"You're not supposed to do that, really. Your teeth can puncture the condom but since-"
Sherlock knew it was rude but he put his hand on John's head and shoved his face down. He really didn't want a sex-ed lesson right now. Besides, the move had been fucking sexy.
John took the hint and ran his tongue from the base of Sherlock's cock up to the tip. A few licks at the glans and Sherlock was moaning loudly. "Look at me." John commanded.
Panting, Sherlock trained his eyes on the blond. John maintained eye contact as he wrapped his hand around the base and took Sherlock's prick into his mouth.
After three inches of slow bobbing torture Sherlock's eyes rolled back and his hand gripped John's hair. He tried not to push down, just guide John's angle and teeth.
John pulled off and Sherlock's eyes met his again. John smiled wickedly and licked Sherlock's slit before sucking hard on the tip of his cock.
"Oh! Fuck!"
Sherlock's eyes were behind his eyelids so he didn't notice John's next move, taking all of Sherlock's six inches into his mouth and swallowing around the part in his throat.
"Oh, FUCK!" The younger man couldn't help screaming, pulling a few strands of John's greying hair out by the roots.
The ex-Army Captain pulled off and smacked the consulting detective on the inside of his thigh. "Watch it!"
"Sorry! God, I just..." Sherlock panted. "Sorry, I was going to come." 'And embarrass myself.' He added mentally. The brunette had half a mind to push John back down and see if he could beat the record for most orgasms in one day he'd set at eighteen.
John seemed to understand. "We'll have time for experiments later." He crawled up Sherlock's body, planting little kisses along the way.
When the blond was sucking on the younger man's collarbone Sherlock got impatient and rolled them over. John allowed it and Sherlock allowed John's hands to roam freely along his back while they kissed.
The kiss was shorter lived than either expected.
"What the hell?!" John growled, pushing Sherlock to the side and positioning the brunette easily despite his protests. "What the fuck is this?!"
Sherlock felt his chin waver. He'd forgotten about those. "I..." The younger man had no idea how to continue. How does one talk about being tortured without killing any chance of the night being ruined sexually with one's lover?
"Sherlock." It was John's turn to demand an answer. But this wasn't fun. This wasn't teasing.
This was painful.
Sherlock picked up his clothes and put them back on. Their romp was over. Nothing would happen now. Maybe never again.
"Sherlock?" John's voice cracked.
++++
A scream interrupted any further conversation.
"MRS. HUDSON!" Sherlock shouted and sprinted down the stairs. 'No, no, no, no, no, no...' He chanted mentally as he tried to find the balance between not falling down the steps and getting to her as fast as he could.
She shrieked again.
The brunette was panicking, running through all the things that could have happened in his mind: Fallen down the stairs. No, there were no other noises. That ruled out shot as well. Of course, the bastard could have used a silencer...
The sounds of distress were coming from inside 221A so Mrs. Hudson was in her flat. The door was closed and Sherlock ran full bore into it, smashing it open.
"What on Earth?" Mrs. Hudson came out of her bathroom, sopping wet with dirt under her nails and flecks of mud on her face. "What did you do to my door young man?!"
The consulting detective was mortified. "You were screaming..."
The older woman smiled warmly. "Oh, Sherlock." She said in an overly saccharine voice.
"Mrs. Hudson?" John arrived late enough to witness a muddy wet French Bulldog exit the bathroom and shake over the back of Mrs. Hudson's dress, causing her to jump and screech. "You little-!" She rounded on the beast and it ran into the back of the flat, shaking against two walls as it went.
"What's going on?" The blond asked.
"Obvious." The taller man waved the question away. It was boring.
John stayed for the answer and Sherlock heard it through the broken door.
"I found this dog outside and it was cold and sad and that just won’t do." Hudders explained.
'Honestly!' The brunette rolled his eyes. 'But then...' he realized '...if she didn't take in strays neither me nor John would be here.' He sighed and took out his phone.
To: Fatty
Mrs. H needs a new door. -SH
The phone rang and Sherlock stuffed it between the couch cushions. He knew what would happen next.
The credits rolled; the tall genius had no idea what happened during the movie and couldn't care less. He turned off the DVD player and the television and waited.
Three... two... one...
"Fucking little shit!" John muttered under his breath as he entered the room, carrying a squirming grey dog in his arms.
It fought him, wiggling and flailing in a desperate bid to get free. As soon as the blond kicked the door shut behind him the dog won and the man tried not to drop the little beast too far but still let it go. The dog fell on his side but got up quickly, running around the flat rubbing his dirty wet fur on every piece of furniture.
John left him to it; going to get the only medical kit that the "consulting pain in the arse" hadn't "borrowed" supplies from.
Sherlock allowed the dog to do what he wanted until it until tried to get into his bedroom. "No." He ordered gently but firmly.
The dog turned and looked at the consulting detective, testing wills.
The brunette raised his eyebrow. As if he couldn't out stubborn a small dog when he could one John Watson.
Any intelligent creature would know it had been beaten and this dog wasn't dumb. He bowed his head and walked a few steps from the forbidden door.
Sherlock squatted down and held out his hand, making each movement slow and graceful. "Come here." He requested soothingly.
The dog did as bid, nose moving wildly the whole way and the consulting detective smiled.
'Yes, this is a very smart dog.' Sherlock thought, lifting the calm animal and carrying him to the bath. "Now, I know you're going to hate this and I understand. But you're filthy and will feel better when I'm done. I promise." The tall man shut the bathroom door. "This is going to be a little scary but it's ok." He set the dog down and turned on the faucet to get the little beast ready for the loud noises the tub's faucet would make.
The small animal fell over as he tried to escape.
"Shhhhhhh..." Sherlock took off his jacket and his shirt. This was going to be rather difficult. "Shhhhhh. It's ok. I'm here." He let the dog sniff his hand again. The dog calmed and his new master set about covering the floor in towels.
"Ok, here comes the tricky part." He turned on the tub and adjusted the water before plugging the drain. Once done there he turned off the sink's tap.
The dog hid behind him the entire time the tub was filling and Sherlock decided the dog would never hold still and be calm if he tried this the traditional way so he removed the rest of his clothing, folded it and set it all on the counter. He climbed in the tub and waited.
Soon the little dog came to sniff the brunette's hand, licking a few drops of water from his finger tips.
Sherlock encouraged this, moving his arm further and further out of the tub and before the dog knew it he was in the tub too. He panicked and wiggled when he crossed over the barrier but the consulting detective soothed him by talking him through it; well aware that it was the tone of his voice and not the words that were calming the animal. Not that it mattered, really.
The dog picked out which shampoo he preferred the smell of (Rosie's) and Sherlock lathered the little beast up. He didn't like the rubbing on his wet fur and the consulting detective knew he didn't have much time before they both lost patience.
Luckily there was no oil or other particularly stubborn substances in his fur. Sherlock lifted the newly white dog, puppy really, out, wrapped a towel around the dog and closed his hands around the puppy's paws to get the water out. The dog was done with this exercise and Sherlock let him run around the bathroom, rolling over on the covered floor and shaking all over the cabinets as Sherlock drained the tub and took a shower.
++++
Sherlock considered how the encounter upstairs could have gone differently while the warm water flowed over him.
This time pushing against John trying to pull off, causing a bobbing swallowing motion that sent Sherlock over the edge. His orgasm was so intense his scream was completely silent.
John choked and sputtered as he was finally allowed to breathe when Sherlock went boneless. "Fucker." The doctor growled.
"Shit, sorry. Sorry." Sherlock panted. "Sorry." When he could speak properly he asked, "Are you ok?"
"Fine." John spat the word angrily. His voice was hoarse and he was coughing.
"God, I'm sorry, John." This was not how the consulting detective wanted this encounter to go. He moved his arms in confusion before setting one hand on John's right shoulder. The blond leaned into the touch and Sherlock wrapped his arms around his doctor pulling him into a sweaty embrace. Sherlock planted kisses onto every part of John he could reach. "I know how much that hurts, I really am sorry."
John's brow furrowed at the admission.
'No horrible!'
Patting John's head to let him know, Sherlock was going to come soon. Too soon if he kept it up.
John, clever John lifted his head away with a slurping noise and the younger of the two had to wrap his fingers around the base to prevent the eminent orgasm.
"Don't you have a gag reflex?"
John smiled evilly and shook his head.
Sherlock tightened his fingers.
"I need you. God John, if we don't do this now I'm not going to-"
The blond nodded eagerly and interrupted. "Yes, oh god, yes."
Sherlock flipped over, tossing the bottle of lube John had out next to the pillow at his lover. He came to his knees and stuck his ass in the air.
"Oh... fuck."
It wasn't the tone of voice the consulting detective expected. Sherlock was going for breathless eager wonderment not breathless tightly controlled horror. He turned to look, turning his body so John wouldn't have a view anymore. Had he not been clean? He knew he'd depilated yesterday so that wasn't the problem.
The doctor was sitting up on his knees and manhandled the brunette so he had a good view of his back. "Jesus... Sherlock."
Sherlock sighed. The first version was better. He'd been in the water too long already by that point and worried that the dog would start chewing on things he turned off the water.
++++
Sherlock fixed his hair and wrapped a towel around his waist when he was done. The dog started licking the consulting detective's legs and now that the quasi-parent was positive the dog didn't have any fleas, ticks or other parasites that might make Rosie sick he let the little animal follow him into his room.
John was there, changing Rosie's nappy.
Rosie's Godfather wrinkled his nose, he was positive he'd never get used to the smell, he thanked god he'd changed out the bin John bought for something near air tight, and turned to get dressed.
"Sherlock?" Fingers traced over the ugliest scar.
Sherlock spun and jumped back, holding onto his towel so it wouldn't fall.
The doctor's hand was being held in midair. "Sorry, do they hurt?"
Sherlock shook his head. 'Not physically.' He refused to say out loud.
"It's ok, you know."
The brunette rolled his eyes. "Of course they are. Mycroft had his best doctor stitch them up as soon as I was back in the country." He knew it's not what the blond meant but thought this was a better avenue of discussion.
"I didn't... Wait-" John's eyes widened, "you mean to tell me that they were fresh when you came back?"
Not what the consulting detective wanted to talk about. 'Stupid John and his stupid medical training.' Sherlock thought sarcastically. "Yes." He answered calmly.
"When you came back, the day I was at that restaurant? The day I tried to propose to Mary?"
"Obviously." The taller man snapped without real anger.
The shorter of the two looked away. "Sherlock, you... I punched you."
"Yes." The consulting detective wanted this over with as fast as possible. "And nearly broke my nose and tackled me. What's your point?"
"I hit you! God Sherlock, I probably ripped out all your stitches and you didn't even-" John started breathing deeply and sat on the corner of Sherlock's bed. "You didn't scream. You just grunted. I didn't know..."
"I'm aware." Rosamund's Godfather sighed. The dog was sniffing the bin and Rosie's bed, he'd need out soon. "You thought I was off having fun while you were stuck here mourning." Sherlock started getting dressed; vest first this time instead of pants.
John was quiet the entire time the brunette's back was turned and he kept his back to the doctor for as long as possible.
"It's ok."
'It's not.' Sherlock mentally argued. 'I'm different. You're different. I'm hideous now. You won't want me anymore.'
He dithered but decided to put on his red shirt. That meant he needed the socks that matched so-
A rustle.
"What's that?"
Sherlock's move was slower than John's and the blond opened the envelope.
After reading the document he asked for clarification, "Sherlock?"
The dog barked at the door.
The consulting detective went to let the dog into the rest of the flat. "He needs a walk."
"Right." The shorter man nodded. "I'll just take care of that; I need one too."
Sherlock opened his bedside drawer and pulled a lead out of it.
"Why do-" John thought better of the question. "Never mind. I'll be back soon."
The brunette nodded. At least Rosie's father took the gift with him.
"Oh, Sherlock?" John said with the puppy dancing around his legs, wrapping him in the lead. "You can tell me when you're ready, ok? About what happened while you were gone, I mean."
By the time Sherlock nodded John had already freed himself and left.
----
---
----
Mycroft was at a loss. It had been weeks and he was near desperate for human interaction. Sherlock had been useless since his anniversary plans were ruined. The elder sibling wondered what on earth possessed what Sherlock to take that case. Maybe it was because John had no idea the significance of the date? The assistant that allowed the clients through the perimeter was fired and Mycroft had a headache. The best replacement assistant was Irene Adler but her history of blackmail was difficult to look past. She was smart and trouble.
But, work was piling up and there had to be a reason Sherlock decided to save her life. Was it simply because she cared for him as a person or was it because he saw something in her?
Oddly enough Sherlock was a better judge of character, especially when it came to women. Molly Hooper was a gem. She'd just given in yesterday and had her first date with the DCI. The doctor made him work for the kiss she gave him at the end of the night. He was intrigued and smitten and she was excited. She'd set her blog to private and started journaling again. She made plans and was making sure Gregory was worth her time. She was smart and focusing on herself first instead of a relationship.
Mycroft wouldn't ask Sherlock for personnel help no matter how much paperwork piled up. But a Molly Hooper with confidence was a force to be reckoned with. She ran the mortuary at her young age and each person she hired, she fought for, was more than competent and hard working. They never tattled when she bent the rules. They understood Dr. Hooper was on their side when they made mistakes. If she weren't so useful where she was Mycroft would be tempted to hire her as his assistant.
He picked up his phone.
Dialling Molly Hooper...
"Hello?"
"Hello, Dr. Hooper. This is Mycroft Holmes."
"Um, yes. I know. Is Sherlock in trouble?" She sounded professionally concerned.
"Not everything is about my brother Miss Hooper."
"Doctor," she demanded. "Please." She added quickly.
"Of course. Apologies Doctor Hooper."
"It's ok. Really." She paused. "Um, if this isn't about Sherlock then why...?" The doctor trailed off.
"I find myself in the unusual position of requiring your assistance."
"Really?" She sounded wary but intrigued. "Me? I'm sure you have plenty of other people-"
"No." Mycroft put a stop to her downward spiral. "There are few people my brother trusts and are therefore worth my time."
"What?"
The minor government official winced. That could be taken as an insult if she insinuated that her worth was only determined by Sherlock's attention. "I've been watching your interactions with DCI Lestrade and wish to congratulate you on choosing someone worth your time." 'Oh, god. I really am an idiot. Why is she so hard to talk to?' Mycroft had never spoken more than a few words to the woman and never on something personal.
"What do you want Mycroft?" She spat the words at him.
Which he more than deserved. "I need your opinion on hiring a new assistant."
"Oh." The doctor sounded mollified. "Well, I mean, I dated Moriarty so I don't think I'm really-"
"You paid him no mind and convinced him to watch Glee. He was simply a means to make my brother jealous. It would have worked if he were interested in your sex." He winced at his words. "I find your professional hiring record far more relevant than your personal life."
"You brought my personal life up first."
Mycroft sighed. He needed to unload on someone and he found her surprisingly easy to trust. Sherlock had talked to her several times about his problems with John and the elder brother finally understood why. "Apologies. I have... feelings for Gregory and it's rather difficult to-"
"Have feelings for someone who can't be interested in you? Yeah." Instead of sounding angry she sounded empathetic. "I know how that feels." She sighed. "It gets easier, you know. With time."
"It has been over a decade Miss-" Mycroft caught himself. "Apologies, Doctor Hooper. I admire your strength."
"Well, I knew that he was in love with John. I just didn't want to admit it." She sounded meek and it didn't suit her. "He just kept stringing me along."
"Yes, my brother can be a manipulative prick when he wishes."
She laughed and it wasn't bitter.
"He's my parent's favourite, you know. Plays up his status as youngest."
"You're not as scary as you like to act, are you?"
That irritated the powerful man. "Don't misunderstand me, Doctor. I can be terrifying."
"Oh, I know. But under all that ice you're a big softie." She teased.
Still angry she worked through his armour so easily he repeated his question with more force than he should have. "Will you help me hire a new assistant or not?"
"Sure. But you'll owe me dinner."
"I'm not interested in a relationship Doctor Hooper."
She laughed. "Not a romantic one but I think you need a friend." While Mycroft was stunned silent she continued, "And you can call me Molly. If you'd like."
Mycroft considered her offer. She was lonely too. She had difficulties making friends with her demanding job. She'd understand if he needed to cancel plans and he had no issues with her doing the same. "Well, Molly, I believe I can more than fulfil my end of the agreement." He was already looking through his appointment book. "Will this Sunday suffice?"
Molly sounded surprised. "Um, yeah. I think so. Where-"
"I will send a car. Do you have any requests?"
"Please don't take me somewhere too fancy where you don't get any food and everything costs more than my wage."
The minor government official chuckled. Then he started, he didn't remember the last time he expressed amusement. Or felt genuine delight- Especially during a conversation. "Of course, Molly. Are you free to discuss my "applicants" now?"
"I get off in an hour, but I'm free for the rest of the night."
"I'll send a car."
"Don't bring me to an abandoned parking lot or warehouse or something please."
Mycroft laughed.
A/N: Warnings: Scars, completely nonsexual bath sharing, one sided Mystrade, light Mollstrade. 1st smutty part: Frottage, rough necking. 2nd smutty part: safe sex practices, blowjobs. 3rd smutty part: shower wanking, a bit not good blowjob fantasies.
I love the idea I came up with at 4am that Mycroft finds Molly slightly intimidating. It made me laugh. Since she's a BAMF when she's confident I figured why not?
Prompts: Your character hasn’t laughed in three years + OTP Idea #707 “I found this dog/cat outside and it was cold and sad and that just won’t do.” - You can find them on Tumblr at GizmoTrinket and you can follow TheArtOne or twitter: @GizmoTrinket221 for updates. :)
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Sherlock and John and Rosie (and Mrs. Hudson too)