Fish and Chips
Dec. 1st, 2017 12:51 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
darnedchildSummary: Detective Dimmock is moving in on the wrong pathologist.
Rating: G
A/N - One word prompt request – “Possessive” for Sherlock/Molly, from Anonymous
Fish and Chips
Dimmock was back.
The first time Sherlock had found the detective hovering around Molly in the morgue, he had dismissed it. More and more detectives were following Lestrade’s example and had begun to take advantage of Molly’s considerable skills. It would stand to reason that Dimmock would be one of them.
The second and third times, Dimmock had been on his way out when Sherlock had arrived; and with a case in progress, there had been little time to consider the other man’s presence.
But now it was crystal clear to Sherlock that Dimmock was loitering around for the sole purpose of chatting up Molly.
His Molly!
Sherlock interrupted their conversation just as Dimmock asked if she was free that evening.
“’Fraid not, Durwood. She’s got plans.”
“I do?” Molly frowned.
“Yep,” Sherlock replied with a smirk.
She narrowed her eyes. “Nope. I’m pretty sure I would remember if someone asked me to make plans tonight.”
Sherlock swallowed hard and squared his shoulders. “I’m asking now. Fish and chips?”
“Off Marlyebone?”
“Of course.”
“Shelves?”
“Extra portions.”
“Uh, guys?” Dimmock interrupted, unable to follow their verbal shorthand.
“Get out,” Sherlock growled.
“Right. On it.” Neither one of them noticed Dimmock leave.
Rating: G
A/N - One word prompt request – “Possessive” for Sherlock/Molly, from Anonymous
Fish and Chips
Dimmock was back.
The first time Sherlock had found the detective hovering around Molly in the morgue, he had dismissed it. More and more detectives were following Lestrade’s example and had begun to take advantage of Molly’s considerable skills. It would stand to reason that Dimmock would be one of them.
The second and third times, Dimmock had been on his way out when Sherlock had arrived; and with a case in progress, there had been little time to consider the other man’s presence.
But now it was crystal clear to Sherlock that Dimmock was loitering around for the sole purpose of chatting up Molly.
His Molly!
Sherlock interrupted their conversation just as Dimmock asked if she was free that evening.
“’Fraid not, Durwood. She’s got plans.”
“I do?” Molly frowned.
“Yep,” Sherlock replied with a smirk.
She narrowed her eyes. “Nope. I’m pretty sure I would remember if someone asked me to make plans tonight.”
Sherlock swallowed hard and squared his shoulders. “I’m asking now. Fish and chips?”
“Off Marlyebone?”
“Of course.”
“Shelves?”
“Extra portions.”
“Uh, guys?” Dimmock interrupted, unable to follow their verbal shorthand.
“Get out,” Sherlock growled.
“Right. On it.” Neither one of them noticed Dimmock leave.