This story takes place sometime after the first season. The second season has not occurred yet. Thank you for reading, and I hope you enjoy!


Prologue

It was nearly time for Molly Hooper to leave. She had been awake since 5:30AM due to working an extra shift because the other pathologist was out with the flu. It was now nearly 8PM. She was on the brink of tumbling over from exhaustion. She would have passed out earlier if it weren't for the five cups of caffeine she had inhaled throughout the day.

At the exact moment she was getting ready to lock the doors and grab her coat, the infamous Sherlock Holmes, walked through the doors. Molly went from slightly faintish and tired to flustered at seeing him approach. As always, Doctor Watson was trailing behind him.

"I'm going to need a breadknife." Sherlock didn't ask nor subtly hint at his need. Instead he bluntly stated it. Much like he did all of the time.

"I-I... what do you need a breadknife for?" Molly asked. Breadknifes, were used for thin slices during autopsies. Despite how smart Sherlock was, he wasn't a pathologist. Molly was.

"I want to test a theory." His eyes blinked and he spoke as if he were being annoyed by her speaking. Molly, was aware of how his tone sounded. She never doubted that she annoyed him. Yet for some reason, she was still undeniably in love with him.

"But, but... Sherlock, I just put them all away." It was completely true. Molly, had spent nearly 4 hours going through all of her scalpels and saws. Between doing that and the extra shift; Molly was beyond the term "beat down".

He sighed lightly, and walked towards her. He was now so close that he was towering over her petite frame. He blinked his eyes lightly at her.

"Molly, please? It's incredibly important and you're the only person who can help me." Her eyes averted his a bit, and backed up from him.

"I'm so tired... and if I have to clean up, and you don-," Sherlock cut her off and slightly grazed her arm. He rested his hand lightly near hers for a few seconds. Molly looked like she was on the near edge of a faint spell.

"Please Molly? For me? Can you do this for me?" He grinned slightly at her. She took a breathe and her eyeballs widened.

"O-okay, Sherlock. Give me a minute." And as quickly as that, Molly Hooper was off looking for as many breadknifes that she could find. Once she was gone, his grin disappeared and he went back to reading the case file as if nothing had happened.

All the while, John Watson looked like he wanted to stab Sherlock with a breadknife.

5 HOURS LATER

"That was wrong mate. Bloody hell, it was wrong as wrong as can be." John Watson was a man of good strong character. He firmly believed in right and wrong. He felt that he slowly was falling in the gray area due to all the time that he spent with Sherlock.

Usually he was immune to Sherlock being an arse. But Sherlock crossed the boundaries. John had always seen Molly like she was a little girl.

It wasn't because of her age. Since she she was only a slight few years younger. She might've been 27 or even 28. John had always viewed her as innocent and fragile like a small girl. Molly wouldn't harm a fly. If anything she'd probably cry if she tried to squat it. Molly had a big warm heart. John was sick of Sherlock taking advantage of it.

"What?" Sherlock muttered while he peered through a microscope. He had no time for dilly dallies. He was on an extremely important case. John's nonsensical topic, whatever it may be, could wait for later.

"You know what you did there. Don't play stupid with me. I'm not a rocket scientist like you, but I'm not a fool,"

Sherlock refrained from noting that he was not a rocket scientist, and he differed on John's opinion that he wasn't a fool. Sherlock had learnt that silence was the best way to react to John's angriness. More acutely: his blackened eye had helped him learn that.

"Manipulating Molly like what you just did. Like you do all the bloody time. All that girl does for you and... you treat her like a public loo!"

"Excuse me?" Sherlock piqued back. He stopped looking at the microscope and turned to actually look at him. This slightly unnerved John. Sherlock had never paid attention to him when John was pointing out why Sherlock was being an arse. It also made John feel successful as if he had finally accomplished something with Smarty Sir Rock Head.

"You heard me. You went and manipulated her. That was doggish whether you want to admit or not."

"I did not manipulate her." Sherlock responded with a viper like tone that one would use if they were accused of murder. This was also unnerving to John. The entire subject was beginning to become less black and white, and more gray. This increased John's anger. He didn't like those little gray areas when it came to right and wrong. He also knew when he was right, like he was at the current moment.

"What do you call it then?" He responded with an annoyed gleaming in his eyes. "You go round' telling her mouth is too small. Except once you need something, you treat her like royalty. Why is that Sherlock?"

Sherlock opened his mouth slightly, but shut it quickly. For the first time in his life, Sherlock Holmes did not have an answer. John had noted this victory, and continued on speaking.

"She finally tries to find a guy who thinks she's pretty and nice, and you tell her he's gay. But not only that, she finds out he's a psychopath. Not the type of rubbish sociopath you say you are, but a real psychopath. Do you lay off? Nope. Do you even ask how she is? No. Even though she's the always the first person to help you or defend you."

Sherlock stayed silent once again, but John had seen the curiosity in his eyes when he said that Molly defended him.

"Oh? When did she defend you? How about two weeks ago when she told Sally Donovan that if she called you a freak again that Molly would show her how well her experience with the dead could be handy?"

Sherlock eyes gleamed with surprise and something that John couldn't decipher.

"Or when she said that nobody in her lab was allowed to speak a word against Sherlock Holmes. She even threatened to fire or write em' up! You think she's this little stupid mouse, but she's not. Molly Hooper is a sweet and smart girl who doesn't deserve to waste her life defending and being in love with a prick like you!"