Work Text:
Today wasn’t the busiest of days in Molly Hooper’s career but she welcomed the rare peace for it allowed her time to catch up on the backlog of paperwork and mark her students’ assignments. She tucked herself away in a quiet corner of the lab with a nice cup of coffee and set to work. The pathologist was barely halfway through her first pile when she heard loud, familiar voices travelling down the corridor just outside.
“Oh, come on! She was completely flirting with me.”
“What would she gain from flirting with you?”
All too soon, John Watson and Sherlock Holmes entered her sanctuary, the former carrying his infant daughter on his chest whilst the latter wasted no time in heading to his microscope. She smiled at the doctor, giving Sharlotte a little wave which made the baby grin happily.
“It’s dad power, mate,” John continued smugly, smiling down at his baby girl, “I can’t help it. The ladies love it.”
“Do you know how stupid you sound? It was one bloody woman,” Sherlock responded, sounded incredibly irritated by his friend’s newfound confidence.
Molly gave up on her papers and instead set about retrieving samples of interest to keep a certain grumpy detective amused. He acknowledged her with a nod, not once removing his gaze from the microscope.
“Alright, let’s ask another, then.”
Molly looked up, noticing both men were looking at her. She cleared her throat nervously, “ask me what?”
“Which one of us is the better looking?”
Molly glanced between the pair of them and felt the bizarre urge to laugh; these two brilliant men were actually arguing about their attractiveness to the opposite sex. It really was an odd day. She shrugged in what she hoped was a nonchalant manner, “does it matter?”
“Yes,” both of them answered instantly.
Sighing, she looked at John, took in his winter coat and swept over hair; he looked very much like a dad and his child certainly looked good on him. He smiled more often, joked and generally seemed happier. But then there was Sherlock…effortlessly gorgeous and enigmatic. He was the type to give chairs orgasms just by sitting on them.
“Okay,” she took a deep breath, smiling confidently, “John. He’s right…it’s the dad thing.”
“HA!” The army doctor pointed triumphantly, obnoxiously running a hand through his hair, “told you. All you need is a baby.”
“I work with one,” the detective grumbled, a nice pout forming on his lips. He knew full well his friends were staring at him incredulously at the statement, which he ignored.
“Well, now that’s sorted…” John tickled his daughter’s chin, smiling, “we’d better get you home to Mummy. She’ll be missing her handsome hubby.”
Molly could practically hear Sherlock’s eyes rolling in his head and she giggled, waving the two Watsons goodbye. When he was sure John was out of earshot, Sherlock turned to his pathologist.
“Are you really taking his side against me?” Her heart melted at the worry in his voice.
“Of course not,” Molly smirked, returning to her paperwork covered bench and smirking at the detective, “can’t have him figuring out we’re shagging, though.”
He nodded, a satisfied smile creeping on his face, “mmm, good point.”