darnedchild: (Default)
DC ([personal profile] darnedchild) wrote2020-03-10 05:54 pm

Smile Like I'm Adorable

Summary: She swiveled back to him with wide-eyes and a panicked expression. “You have to help me.” (SAW 2020 - Day 4)

Rating: G

A/N - Day 4 – This person won’t stop flirting with me, please pretend to know me?

#Sherlollyweek2020

Smile Like I'm Adorable


“Wait here.”

Sherlock frowned and started to protest, “But I-“

“Don’t argue with me about this, Sherlock.” DI Lestrade nodded toward the crowded club bar. “That’s my supervisor ordering a Jack and Coke over there and it’s my duty to inform him that we’re—that I’m—here investigating an active case. And if he sees you with me-“

“My burgeoning career as a consulting detective assisting the Yard will officially be over before it begins; yes, you have made it clear how I need to ‘lay low’ for now.”

Lestrade eyed him for a moment, as if unsure if Sherlock was going to cooperate or not. Sherlock rolled his eyes and gestured for Lestrade to take care of his business.

He’d only been alone for a minute, no more, when a small brunette narrowly barreled into his side.

“Oh, sorry! Sorry.” She brightly smiled at him and glanced around. “Where is Greg?”

“Who?”

Her smile lost some of its wattage. “Greg. He was standing right here just a moment ago? Talking to you?”

“Graham,” Sherlock corrected with complete confidence.

Pretty sure it’s Greg.” Her smile disappeared entirely. “Where did he go?”

Sherlock considered telling her he didn’t know and didn’t care, but he really had nothing better to do at the moment. He began to scan the crowd near the bar where Lestrade had indicated he was going.

She turned to look as well. Seconds later, she swiveled back to him with wide-eyes and a panicked expression. “You have to help me.”

He felt his body go tense and his mind click onto high alert at the desperation in her voice. “What is it?”

Sherlock nearly jerked away when she stood on her tiptoes and put her arms around his neck. “Smile like I’m adorable and you can’t wait to get me home and kiss me.”

He hadn’t deduced that she was drunk when she’d first walked up, but he must have missed an obvious cue.

She glanced over her shoulder and whipped back around with a grimace. “Oh God, he’s spotted us. Skip the kissing, go straight for wanting to screw me against the wall.”

“Pardon?” He reached up to remove her hands from his person, but she dug her nails into his shoulders and hung on with surprising strength for such a tiny woman. “Have you lost your-“

An annoying man with far-too-white teeth approached them. “Molly. I told you I was going to get us a drink, but you disappeared on me.” He tried to sound as if he found the situation amusing, but Sherlock could hear a hint of annoyance and anger running through his words. The stranger held up two glasses of wine.

Sherlock looked down at the woman—Molly—and could read half-a-dozen tells in her body language that showed how uncomfortable the other man made her. She must have known Lestrade, somehow, and come looking for assistance in deterring an unwanted suitor.

Molly dropped to her flat feet and finally released her hold on Sherlock. “Mike, I—That is, I-“

“She didn’t know if I was going to make it tonight.” Sherlock straightened to his full height, which was several inches taller than Mike. “But here I am. With Molly.”

The other man’s eyes narrowed in response to Sherlock’s display. “And you are?”

“He’s my boyfriend.” Molly looked up at him, a hint of panic in her eyes as she realized she had no clue what his name was.

“Sherlock Holmes.” He held out a hand, then quickly dropped it with a smirk. “Looks like your hands are full, Mike. Perhaps next time.” Sherlock made a show of looking over Mike’s head. “If you’ll excuse us, I see a friend of ours.” He held out his arm for Molly to take, and was oddly pleased when she wrapped her hand around it.

Once they were several paces away from the silently fuming Mike, Sherlock asked, “How do you know Lestrade?”

“Through work. I-I work at Barts and he sometimes comes in if he has some questions or wants to see a…” She trailed off and bit her lower lip.

“A what?”

Molly steeled herself. “A body. I work in the morgue. Postmortems. Things like that.”

Sherlock stopped dead in his tracks. “And I thought this evening was going to be a huge waste of time. Tell me more about your work, Molly. Tell me everything.”