Thanks to Empress of Verace, magicstrikes, Rocking the Redhead, chironsgirl, Amelia, Meg-the-cat, Sharpietattoo, AdamPascalRocks12, AdaYuki, Way Worse Than Scottish, patemalah21, coloradoandcolorado1, Clockwork Mockingbird, OddOneOut-16, Shannon Burns, udhare, aye2skeye, saoirse09, bookwormtsb, Aviatress, friend2friend1, IHKF, pinkphoenix1985, Toby. Her Cat. Molly's Cat, broadwayb, KendraPendragon, LindseyWasHere, hotflower901, librarygirl157, ajs-fan, SweetieXoX27, Tutto-E-Lecito and Noxen for their feedback.
As always, love to Lexie and Pablo for betawork.
Molly crinkled her nose as she looked down at her husband. His head was in her lap, his eyes closed. He had his sleeve pulled up, three patches on his arm. Molly wiggled her backside, trying to get herself comfortable. She balanced her laptop precariously in one hand.
Sherlock opened one eye a sliver. "Do you mind not shifting around so much? I am trying to think."
"I was here first," Molly replied. She reached over with her free hand and poked Sherlock in his side. "I have work to do."
"So do I!" Sherlock protested. He pressed his fingertips together beneath his chin. "I am figuring out what should be done about the Woman."
Molly rolled her eyes. "And that's not something you're going to figure out any time soon."
"I might!" Sherlock protested. He tilted his head up to look at Molly. "Maybe if you stroked my hair, I'd be able to come to a conclusion faster."
"I told you I have work to do," Molly insisted. Defiantly, she reached over and pulled nicotine patches off Sherlock's arm. "You are only supposed to use nicotine patches for two months after quitting."
Sherlock scowled deeply. "That is the recommendation. However, there have been studies that using the patch for up to six months after quitting is more effective in staying free from nicotine."
"You quit smoking eight months ago!" Molly cried.
Sherlock rolled his eyes. "Yes, and it is the recommendation that you only use one at a time."
Molly huffed out a breath. "How is that supposed to be better? You blatantly ignore all doctor recommendations..."
Sherlock sneered. "Doctors are idiots."
"I'm a doctor!" Molly cried.
"Doctors except for you," Sherlock replied. He thought about it for a moment. "And John."
Molly poked Sherlock in the side once again before removing another patch from Sherlock's arm. "From now on, one patch is recommended by this doctor."
Sherlock's lip curled in a sneer. "Is this one of those marriage things where I need to listen to you just by virtue of the fact that you are my wife?"
"Yes," Molly replied.
Sherlock sighed. "I want a divorce."
Molly poked him once again. "You know that doesn't get funnier."
Sherlock snorted, snuggling into Molly's thigh. "I am not going to take advice on humour from you."
Molly wiggled out from underneath him and Sherlock grunted as his head hit the cushions from her quick movement.
"Where are you going?" Sherlock demanded, sitting up.
"Just for that I'm going to work at the kitchen table." Molly looked over her shoulder and stuck her tongue out at Sherlock.
"What are you working on that is so important anyway?" Sherlock grumbled, rubbing the back of his head and rising to his feet.
"My paper," Molly replied.
Sherlock strode up behind Molly. "You submitted that for publication already."
Molly tilted her head to look up at him. "Well, I'm working on another one now."
"Another one?" Sherlock's brow furrowed and he gently skimmed his fingers over the back of Molly's neck.
"Mm." Molly leaned in to Sherlock's touch even as she typed. "Well, I'm around a brilliant man who frequently deals with bizarre dead bodies. One who likes when I deal with all of those bizarre dead bodies too. Lots of stuff to write about."
Sherlock leaned in over Molly's shoulder. "Let me read."
"Go away," Molly insisted, pushing Sherlock back. She crinkled her nose once again. "You were enough of a pain in the arse with my last paper."
"You didn't let me read it after your third revision!" Sherlock protested, trying to get back to the computer screen.
"Because you were being such a berk about it," Molly shrieked, trying to cover up her laptop screen with her hands. "If you had your way, you would have co-written it!"
"Would that have been so horrible?" Sherlock questioned, still wrestling with Molly to get to the laptop. "We could have been like Pierre and Marie Currie, but in the field of interesting murders."
Molly squeaked at the feel of Sherlock's long, lanky arms wrapping around her waist. Her back was pulled up against his chest. "Sherlock! You can't read my paper!"
"Ooh, I think I've actually found something better to occupy my time." He pushed Molly's hair off of her neck. She cooed softly at the feel of his lips sucking at the tender skin just below her ear. "Have I ever told you how unbelievably attractive you are in your glasses?"
"I'm working," Molly moaned, still wriggling against her husband's tight hold.
"Fortunately for me- but rather unfortunately for field of Pathology- your proficiency in the sciences is quite the aphrodisiac for me." His voice had dropped an octave. "Why don't you read something from your paper to me, Darling? I'll keep myself well occupied while you do."
Molly wanted to freely give in to Sherlock's demands, but she had a lot of work to do. She continued to squirm against him. "Sherlock Holmes, I really have to get to work... If you don't let me go I'll..."
"...Have an absolutely marvellous time on top of the kitchen counter?" Sherlock finished for her. "I assure you I have not been doing any experiments upon the surface that might introduce harmful chemicals to your backside."
Molly managed to get herself free from Sherlock's grasp. "Oh how very kind of you. I still can't-"
She was cut off by her own squeak as Sherlock pounced on her. They tumbled onto the floor, rolling around. Molly soon found herself straddling Sherlock's waist. He had his hands buried in her hair, his head lifted just enough to capture her lips comfortably.
Molly moaned against his mouth. "Sherlock, let go of me."
Sherlock smirked against her mouth. "Oh but Darling, you're on top of me now and you're not moving yourself off."
Molly leaned in to Sherlock's embrace. It seemed any work was going to have to wait until later.
Molly jumped back away from Sherlock at the sound of John clearing his throat. She was too used to the sound now. It took her no time to figure out who had interrupted. "Oh John!" Molly blushed deeply.
"Jones Case, John," Sherlock groaned.
"No!" Molly shook her head, her cheeks heating up. "No Jones Case! What's going on, John?"
"We don't have a case," Sherlock questioned, narrowing his gaze. "Why are you here?"
"I was helping Mrs Hudson with her sink. Was about to head out, but a client came by. Pretty insistent on seeing you, Sherlock." John stepped out of the way to let the client in while Molly jumped off Sherlock and smoothed out her jumper, trying to look presentable.
The man looked to be in his fifties, with greying light brown hair. Despite his expensive suit, which resembled Sherlock's in many ways, he looked slightly more rakish with salt and pepper stubble covering his jaw.
Sherlock immediately straightened up, tugging his shirt down forcefully, straightening it out. "That isn't a client, John."
The man smiled at Sherlock. "Hello Sherly."
"Get out," Sherlock demanded, nodding his head towards the door.
Molly's jaw dropped. She knew Sherlock could be rude, but she's never heard him be so cold before, not even with Anderson. "Sherlock! He's a guest!"
"He's not a guest," Sherlock shot back angrily. "He's not welcome here." With that, Sherlock turned and strode towards the bedroom. "Call me when he's gone."
Molly turned to the man and frowned apologetically. "I'm really sorry about that."
The man shook his head. "I really shouldn't be surprised. Sherly and I didn't part on the best terms." He held out his hand. "Siger Holmes. It's nice to meet you."
"Siger Holmes..." Molly squeaked in shock. Her hand jumped up to her neck.
John pointed to the man, then waggled his finger to point towards the bedroom. "You're Sherlock's father."
"We will have to take Violet's word on that," Siger replied with a large smile. "And you must be Doctor Molly." He reached out and clasped her hand. "Have you taken Holmes or are you still using Hooper?"
Molly's eyes widened. As far as she knew, even Mrs Holmes didn't know they were married yet. She felt a thrill of worry go through her at the thought. Mrs Holmes truly despised her. "Did... Umm... Did Mycroft tell you?"
"Oh no." Siger shook his head. "Myc is about as likely to tell me anything as Sherly is." He looked her over. "I have of course heard about your relationship with my son through the newspaper. Seeing you two rolling around on the floor informs me that it was not sensationalized. I became assured of the depth of your relationship when you clutched the necklace you wear. The necklace with the ring on it."
"Right." Molly nodded. It seemed it ran in the family. "So... I'm guessing Sherlock wasn't expecting you."
"Sherly rarely expects- or accepts- me," He sighed. "However, I could not come to town and not meet my new daughter-in-law."
Molly swallowed hard. Her gaze shifted to John. "Do you think you could get Mister Holmes a drink? I need to..."
John gave a brief nod. Molly turned and ran back to her bedroom.
Molly's eyes widened when she saw Sherlock loaded up his Bulldog Revolver. "Sherlock!" Molly squeaked. "What are you doing?"
"Experiment," Sherlock grunted.
Molly raced to Sherlock's side. "What kind of experiment is this?"
"Fine then," Sherlock replied. He slipped in the last bullet. "I need to keep it in working order."
Molly jumped up onto the bed so she was above Sherlock. She threw her arms around his neck. "Sherlock! Come on! Don't do that!"
Sherlock grunted and glanced up at Molly. "Is he gone yet?"
"He's your father!" Molly protested. "You can't just kick him out of the house." Molly ran her hand over Sherlock's chest soothingly. "Come on, love... Just come talk to him with me."
Sherlock grunted yet again, but he lowered the revolver. "Molly. You have already met my mother. She is the parent I get along with the best. So why would I want to see that man?"
Molly frowned deeply and turned Sherlock to face her. She framed his face with her hands. "Because he is my father-in-law and he seems to want to get to know me."
Sherlock's brow knit together as he glared at Molly. "You are going to regret this, Molly. I assure you."
Molly crinkled her nose as she stroked her fingers over Sherlock's fine cheekbones. "Please Sherlock. Will you just do this for me?"
Sherlock's scowl deepened. "You already used that today in order to get me to remove my nicotine patches."
Molly scowled back at her husband, considering the situation carefully. She leaned in and pressed a kiss to his furrowed brow. "I'll let you put on two more nicotine patches for as long as your father is here."
"Three," Sherlock countered.
Molly whined softly. "You've already got one on your arm, love. And you become a real tit if you're suffering from a nicotine overdose."
Sherlock glowered. "Just so you know I'm going to be- as you so elegantly put it- a real tit for as long as my father is here regardless."
Molly stroked Sherlock's curls gently. "Fine. All right. Just for as long as he is here. But then we're going to have a serious talk about you giving them up for good." She nuzzled her nose against Sherlock's cheek. "But how about you put down the revolver?"
Sherlock huffed out a breath in aggravation. "Fine. But you may regret that request later on."
Molly crinkled her nose before pressing her forehead to Sherlock's, still idly curling a lock of his hair around her index finger. "He's figured out that we're married."
"Of course he has," Sherlock replied. "That's what he does." He pulled away to tuck the revolver away in his bedside table before grabbing Molly by the waist, lifting her off the bed and lowering her to stand on the floor. He leaned in and Molly felt his mouth pressed against the top of her head. "I feel the need to remind you that I warned you off meeting my mother and was proven entirely justified. What makes you think this will go any better?"
"I don't," Molly sighed. "But it's a necessity. He's your father, Sherlock. There's no escaping family and this is no exception. Best to just get on with it. Now come on."
Sherlock's grip on Molly's hand was slightly uncomfortable as she pulled him out to the sitting room. He was slapping nicotine patches on his forearm as they walked.
Siger was sitting in Sherlock's chair, a glass of scotch in his hand. He smiled tightly at Molly and Sherlock as they re-entered the room.
"Well then." John slapped a hand against his leg before rising to his feet. "I think I should get home to Mary. I'll just leave you three alone."
"Thank you, John," Molly said with a smile.
She caught glimpse of Sherlock's sour expression. "Yes, thank you John... Thank you for interrupting an intimate moment with my wife in order to bring my father into my home."
Molly elbowed Sherlock while John just shook his head and waved Sherlock off dismissively before heading to the door.
Siger examined his glass carefully. "You've got a better class of Scotch than I thought you would. Wide variety too. You become a connoisseur, Sherly?"
"Rarely drink it," Sherlock replied tersely. "However, I was doing an analysis of liquor for my blog. Alcohol all too often plays a part in murder." He let go of Molly's hand and it snaked around her waist. "Father, this is Doctor Molly Holmes, my wife. Molly, this is Siger Holmes, my father." He glared down at Molly. "Are we done yet?"
Molly sighed and looked to Siger. "I'm really sorry..."
Siger waved off Molly's apology. "Sherly's being more hospitable than Myc was. I suspect it's your doing. Winnie doesn't care one jot what Myc does."
"Winnie?" Molly repeated.
"Mycroft's wife," Sherlock replied airily. "Honestly, I'm surprised she was even around when you visited. Must be their semi-annual conjugal visit."
Sherlock released Molly and sat down across from his father, steepling his fingers beneath his chin. "So. You visited Mycroft before you came to me. Making the rounds to see your offspring? Now, will you visit Martin? And Clemence? What about the one in America? What was her name again? I always have trouble. Then, you had the same difficulty with her mother."
Molly's eyes widened. She had already been aware Sherlock's father had been unfaithful to Mrs Holmes. Clearly, she had no idea the extent. "You have three half-siblings?"
"Oh, those are but the ones Father knows about," Sherlock replied. "He seems to possess a preternatural potency."
"You have always wanted to believe the worst of me, Sherly," Siger sighed, shaking his head. He took a sip of his scotch. "My children are you and Myc."
Molly could see the muscles in Sherlock's shoulders tighten. "Of all of the people to put on airs for, Father... Why even bother?"
"I had business with your brother. I thought it about time I leave my position in the Italian embassy. Need a change of scenery."
Sherlock nodded slowly. "Ah. Whose wife were you caught messing around with?" He cocked his head slightly. "Oh no... Daughter, was it?"
Molly squeaked softly and covered her face with her hands. She didn't know what she was supposed to do. Was she just supposed to allow Sherlock to keep sniping at his father for the rest of the night?
Siger did not seem at all fazed by Sherlock's accusations. "You did always take after your mother, Sherly." His gaze drifted to Molly, eyeing her in a way that made her uncomfortable. "Frankly, I am surprised Doctor Watson and I caught you in such an intimate position. Wasn't sure you knew how those worked."
Molly squeaked again when Sherlock took a hold of her hand, drawing her close to him. "I am quite well informed, Father." He pressed a kiss to Molly's hand. "I am just happy in my wife being the only one to benefit from my knowledge."
Siger drained the rest of his glass and rose to his feet. "Well. I can tell where I'm not wanted. I had only wanted to come by and congratulate you, Sherlock. I am disappointed I did not rate an invitation to your wedding. Then, you seem to have tried your hardest to keep it a secret."
He reached out and clutched Molly's hand. "I wish you the best of luck in controlling my son, Molly. Sherly..." He nodded his head briefly before striding towards the door.
Sherlock hadn't risen from his seat. When the door closed signalling Siger's exit, he pulled Molly into his lap. He buried his face in her neck. "There. Are you happy?"
Molly's jaw dropped. "Pardon?" She pulled away from Sherlock. "You think that would make me happy?"
"I interacted with my father just as you requested."
Molly pulled herself out of Sherlock's lap and shook her head. "You were completely horrible!"
"As it goes with my father," Sherlock ground out. "What did you expect? I warned you."
Molly huffed out a breath and crossed her arms over her chest. "He was being perfectly fine until you decided to be rude."
Molly could feel Sherlock's venomous gaze on her. It felt like it was penetrating her and she shivered at the coldness of the look. He got up, towering over her. "Fine. If that's the way you feel about it." He strode off towards the stairs.
"Where are you going?" Molly asked.
"I'm going to work in my lab," Sherlock snapped back. "Why don't you just go back to work on your paper?" His proclamation was punctuated by the slam of the lab door.
Molly wanted to go after him. But she knew Sherlock needed time to pout and stomp around. If she attempted to go after him, it was just going to lead to a row.
Molly walked back to her laptop and sat down in front of it. Rather than going back to work, she cradled her head in her hands. The night had started off so nice. It was amazing how quickly things could change.