One-shot from prompt on Tumblr (enamoredwithsherlolly)

Gripping the newspaper tightly in her hand, Molly Hooper realizes (not for the first time) that she has the ability to become furious.

It's partly hurt, but it's more the utter disgust that makes her feel as if she's going to vomit.

Her lab coat had disappeared several months ago, but she paid it no mind, thinking that she had probably just misplaced it, and it would pop up eventually. She had a spare, so it wasn't a big deal.

But to realize it had been used for this. She wanted to scream and cry and knock vases over. But it wasn't who she was.

So instead, she stormed her way over to 221B Baker Street, not even bothering to knock. Mrs. Hudson came out to see what the commotion was, only to catch a ponytail whipping around the corner as Molly took two steps at a time up.

The newspaper still tightly clutched in her hand, she banged on the door.

"Sherlock Holmes! Open the door!"

She nearly punched the man opening the door, only to realize it was John, and he was staring at her like she had suddenly turned into Cerberus. Only she didn't care anymore.

Muttering a thanks under her breath as he quickly moved out of the way to let her in, Molly headed straight for Sherlock's bedroom, slamming the door open.

"What is this?"

He was reclining on his bed, the lab coat neatly laid out next to him.

He shot up.

"What are you doing here?"

She walked right up to him and slapped him, the first time she would do so selfishly. She thrust the newspaper in his hand.

"I know you took my lab coat. But why did you let her wear it? I…" she could barely choke out the words.

After a cursory glance of the contents, Sherlock's brow furrowed, but he didn't say a word.

"Well?" Molly continued to question.

His hand tightened, the newspaper crumpling.

She gave a bitter laugh, not noticing John coming into the room to investigate what problems Sherlock had stirred up again. Sherlock's eyes flicked toward him, then at the door, silently telling him to leave.

He crossed his arms, raised his eyebrow, and didn't move a step. Sherlock got into the trouble himself, and John was sure he would have no problem explaining himself in front of an audience.

After a tense moment with no answer, Molly's eyes welled up with tears. It was obvious he wasn't going to answer her because he couldn't. Because it was all true, and who was she anyway? Just a simple pathologist who had stupidly developed a crush on the most famous detective of their time. Stupid, stupid stupid.

"Sod this."

She turned, not wanting him to see her tears, attempting to leave before she sniffled. It wasn't like he cared after all.

But just as she took a step, a hand shot out and tightened around her arm, pulling her back, making her face him.

She glared up at him, refusing to say a word.

His adam's apple bobbed up and down, and his eyes shifted from her own to the ground, as if he didn't know what to say. But that was impossible. He was Sherlock Holmes after all, and he would beat the devil trying to get the last word.

So she attempted to escape from his grasp, only to hear what sounded like a desperate "No!" burst from his mouth.

"I…"

He took a deep breath.

"Janine and I never had sex. I vow that to you." His eyes were fixed on hers, willing her to understand.

"Then why'd you take the labcoat, Sherlock?"

Silence.

"Sherlock."

He gave a growl of frustration and glared at John before turning his attention back to her. He suddenly dragged her close, leaning down and burying his face in her shoulder.

"I wanted to something to keep that had your scent." She could barely hear his muffled voice.

She froze.

What?

"I'm addicted to you, Molly Hooper."

She didn't respond, but John's loud guffaw echoed from the hallway as he pulled out his phone and quickly ran out, no doubt to tell Mrs. Hudson and Mary of the hilarious news.

He pulled away from her, looking her in the eyes.

"I would never lie to you, Molly. I promised myself I would never hurt you again, and I'm sorry."

Sudden footsteps sounded in the hallway again, and John's face popped up from outside the door.

"Last vow, my arse."