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Oh What A Night

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He had just opened up the front door when he heard Sherlock’s scathing tones from the sitting room and groaned. Sherlock had been in a foul mood for the last few weeks and was taking it out on everyone, even his goddaughter, apparently. Mary had had enough and snapped back; she and John were ignoring him, Mrs. Hudson and Lestrade were taking it in stride, which meant…

He looked up and saw Molly dashing down the stairs, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. She wasn’t paying attention to where she was going and before he could say a word she gave him a stern look. “I am not crying, okay?! I’m allergic to jerks!” she said, trying to move around him.

“Hey,” McCoy said, reaching out to place his hands on her shoulders. “Sherlock’s being a dick to everyone lately. If you want, I can go up to the living room and go punch him a few times.”

Molly sniffed slightly but she smiled at that. “No, it’s all right,” she said.

“At least it got a grin out of you,” he said. Truth be told, he really did want to clock Sherlock about the head a few times for making Molly cry. Now that the two of them had worked out their differences, he found he liked her, liked being around her, and didn’t like seeing her hurt. And the fact she was attracted to an asshole like Sherlock who trampled all over her heart the way he did...Sherlock needed a kick in the ass, really.

“I really shouldn’t have come over,” she said. “It all could have been done over the phone, or through email. It wasn’t all that important, really.”

“But you wanted to see him,” McCoy said.

“Yeah,” she replied. She was quiet for a moment. “I should probably go. You don’t need to waste any more time on me tonight.”

“Lady, I got all the time in the world to waste on you tonight,” he said with a grin, moving his hands away from her shoulders and then offering her his arm. “If I stay here I’ll probably punch his lights out because he’ll spend hours playing his violin when I want to sleep. Better to spend a few hours with you and be in stellar company than be with him.”

“We could go to my home, I suppose,” she said. “You haven’t been there since I redecorated yet, have you?”

He shook his head. “No, you’ve haven't invited me over yet.”

“Then let me do so now. Have you eaten yet?”

“No,” he said. “Came straight home from the surgery to...well, this. I was going to get takeout and take it up to my room and just ignore what a pain in the ass my flatmate is being.” He turned them both towards the door and then opened it to let them both out. “What crawled up his ass and died, anyway?”

“A complicated case,” she said. “Normally he solves them quickly but for some reason this case has stumped him and he’s turned into an absolute beast.”

“You’re telling me,” he said with a slight snort. “I swear to God, if I didn’t think I’d get brought up on charges I’d probably murder him.”

Her eyes widened. “Oh, don’t do that!” she said. “When he solves it, he’ll go back to normal. You’ll see. It will just take time.” She paused. “I hope.”

“Yeah, well, sooner would be better than later. I’m not sure how much more of his crap I can take before I deck him.” They stepped outside and he shut the door behind them, and then removed his arm from her grip and locked it, just to be on the safe side. No one else needed to deal with Sherlock when he was being an ass at the moment. He felt bad enough leaving Mrs. Hudson in there, but he was fairly sure she had some...well, “herbal refreshers” that would keep her nice and mellow while Sherlock had his little temper tantrum. Once the door was locked he offered his arm to Molly again. “Why don’t I buy us something to eat so you don’t have to cook? Least I can do for barging in on your evening.”

“Oh, I don’t mind cooking,” she said, giving him a smile. “It’s actually quite relaxing. I tend to bake up a storm when I’m stressed. If you ever see a huge plate of biscuits at the surgery on John’s desk, I had a bad day.” She paused. “There may be a plate on your desk as well, perhaps.”

“I’m assuming you mean cookie biscuits, not the type of biscuits I’m used to,” he said with a small grin.

She smiled a little wider and nodded. “Yes, I mean those. Though if you really want your biscuits, I suppose I could whip up a batch. They aren’t too hard to make, are they?”

“My mama used to make them really easily,” he said. “And I’m sure with the proliferation of the internet it shouldn’t be that hard to get a Southern biscuit recipe you can adapt to the ingredients here in England. I mean, I know you guys have most of the stuff here.”

She tilted her head and looked at him as they walked to the nearest Tube station. “Is it...hard? Adjusting?”

“I think you’d have a harder time adjusting to my time and my universe than I’m having here,” he said. “But I miss the comforts of future tech. Everything here is so...primitive.” But he looked over at her and grinned. “But the company is good, so that’s one of the perks. Or at least most of the company is.”

“Well, I’ll just try and make up for the company that isn’t so good,” she said, a slight blush on her cheeks.

“I think you’ll do a damn good job at that,” he said. She grinned back and he suddenly felt that maybe this evening wasn’t going to be a waste after all.