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It wasn’t very often Leonard let his temper get the best of him, but Dimmock was flirting with his girlfriend and he would. Not. Stop.
It was like the bastard timed it for whenever he’d show up to surprise Molly with lunch or pick her up to go on a date or even dropping her off when she was late because he didn’t want to let her out of bed. That should have been a tip-off, that there was lipstick on his cheek and lips and it was the same damn shade Molly was wearing. What, did Dimmock think Holmes had kissed him?
It got so bad that he felt an irresistible urge to break Dimmock’s nose, an urge only diminished by Molly smiling at him and shaking her head. She knew, she did, and she tried to politely and firmly say she was not interested but he just was thick as a damn brick.
“Are you sure I can’t punch him in the face?” he asked one morning as Molly buttoned up his shirt for him. He didn’t want to let her go and was trying to convince her to undo the buttons and go back to bed.
“Yes.”
“What if I just break his nose a little?”
“Then you’ll be at Her Majesty’s pleasure and you’ll have to imagine all the things I’m willing to do to you when we’re done with this awards presentation.” She grinned. “I knicked your flatmate’s scarf.”
Leonard looked at her with admiration. “Seriously?”
“Mmm-hmm,” she said, humming her agreement. “Not that we have to do anything kinky with it, but I think you should congratulate me properly.”
“Who says I shouldn’t use it to tie you to the bed or blindfold you?” he said, leaning in.
“No shagging. Award ceremony. We promised Sherlock we’d be there. If they give him another deerstalker I’m to keep there from being a mass homicide.”
“He could just autograph the stupid thing and donate it to charity,” he said with a shrug as Molly reached for a tie. “No.”
“No what?” she asked.
“No tie. If Holmes doesn’t have to wear one and Greg doesn’t have to wear one I won’t either.”
“Are you sure?” she asked, giving him an impish look.
“If you can convince me to wear a tie, darling, I’ll be able to convince you to wear a thong to work all day.”
She made a face. “Fair point.” She undid the top button and then flattened his collar down a bit. “You do look quite delectable.”
“Enough to eat and therefore we can skip this stupid ceremony and I don’t risk punching Dimmock in the face?”
She bit her lip slightly. “No, but maybe we can make things much more apparent.”
“How so,” he asked, sliding his arms onto her hips and around to the small of her back.
“Do I look good enough to eat?” she asked.
He licked his lips. “Always.”
“Prove it.”
---
Back in his time, people hid their hickey’s at all costs, especially at a function like this, but as they walked in with arms around each other’s waists and little love bites dotting Molly’s neck and collarbone, he had the feeling if Dimmock didn’t realize she was dead serious about being taken…
...well, a night in jail may not be too bad.