Tumblr prompt fill, one shot. Anonymous said- A drunk is not leaving Molly alone in a pub. She calls Greg Lestrade for help, but Sherlock shows up instead.

She should have known better. She really should have known better to come to the pub with Meena who had disappeared after ten minutes with a nice looking bloke who she fancied.

She was depressed after her break up with Tom and Meena dragged her to the pub in an attempt to lift her spirits, declared today a girls night and then disappeared with some idiot, leaving Molly to her devices.

Now, after sitting with a pint in hopes that her best friend would comeback and she fiddled with her phone debating whether to remind Meena of her existence or to let her have her fun and go back home.

"Hello, darling," said a man in his mid thirties with a grin," Mind if I seat?" He sat before she could say no anyway.

Molly closed her eyes. Great! Wasn't today her lucky day? She was going to have to deal with a rude man who was clearly drunk if his slurred speech was anything to go by.

"Do not call me darling," Molly said, grimacing, "And I did not say yes."

"Now, now, why would you say no to a good, looking man like me?" He was talking to her chest(small according to you know who).

Wow. Not only drunk and a lecher, but also a narcissist. Today really was her lucky day.

"Well, I am saying no, good looking or not. Go away, take a seat somewhere else and control your eyes if you don't want to get hurt," She replied with barely veiled menace in her voice, as she turned away from him to block his view of her chest.

"Oh, come on darling. No need to play so hard to get." His hands crept up towards hers. "What's you name darling?''

Oh God. Why was she even talking with this drunkard? She removed her hand before he could touch her and stood up and began walking away looking for Meena.

The drunkard- whose she name did not know and had no intention of knowing- started to follow her while stumbling on his steps and pushing people in his hasty.

"Hey, it's rude not to answer. Don't you know?" He called out after her.

Molly rolled her eyes and kept on ignoring him, her eyes desperately trying to find Meena but couldn't find her anywhere.

She heard her mobile ringing and went on one side of the relatively less crowded corner to pick it up.

"Hey, Molls. I am so sorry for disappearing like that. It's just- oh well, this guy is just great and I am going home with him. I am so sorry but I will make it up to you some other day. Okay? Promise. I really am sorry, it's just that he is so amazing," Meena said from the other line and cut the phone before Molly could get a word edge wise.

Why was she friends with Meena again? This wasn't the first time this has happened and no matter how many times Molly had shouted at Meena for doing this, Meena just does it anyway.

Damn her if she was going to the pub ever with Meena again.

"Oye, stop ignoring me." The drunkard was still talking to her chest.

Oh God, she forgot about his existence. This guy was still here and was now cornering her against the wall where she was standing.

"Move," She tried pushing him away but he was not budging.

Shit! She had underestimated him, but now she took a proper look she saw that he was was quite tall and well built and had dropped his stupid drunk act to full on lecher. His hands started to creep towards her thighs and she cursed Meena for making her wear skirt today of all days.

She again pushed against him with all her might and he staggered away a little. The one good thing about being drunk was they did not usually have much control over their body.

She moved as fast as she can away from their and called Greg who she had on speed dial, taking note of the fact that the drunkard had started to follow her and going home alone wouldn't be safe for her.

She informed Greg of her predicament while looking for a more crowded place in the pub, trying to loose the stupid bloke who still persistently kept on following her. Greg told her he was nearby the pub and would be there in ten minutes.

Tomorrow she was going to murder her best friend but today she needed to get away and stay as far as away from this bloke she could until Greg comes to her rescue.

The man had caught up with her, took hold of her wrist and said,"Stop ignoring me."

Molly was contemplating whether to resort to violence when she saw familiar gloved hands grip that of the drunk man and remove it away from hers.

She let her gaze travel to from the hand to her saviour's face and her suspicion were confirmed.

Sherlock.

What was he doing here?

Sherlock wasn't looking at her and had his icy gaze on the man who was looking at Sherlock's hand on his wrist as if he couldn't figure where that one came from.

"This lady here does not want your attention. So, I suggest if you leave her alone before your wife gets to know of your affair with her sister." The coldness and the threat in his voice was unmistakable.

The man's face showed pure outrage. "Look, man, I don't kno who you are but it ain't your buss-buss," He stopped in his mid ranting to remember the word, then chose to forget about it and said,"Anyway let go of my hand and leave me alone with my pretty lady."

"Business," Sherlock coolly supplied from him. "And she isn't your lady. Also I really recommend leaving her alone or you won't have your hand intact ever again." Followed by tightening of pressure on the hand with each word."Oh and the one to be breaking your hand wouldn't be me by the way." Sherlock inclined his head towards Molly."She is a doctor-pathologist, you know. Her patients are usually dead people, but I am sure she can make exception for you." With that, he let go of the idiot's hand.

Molly watched in fascination as the guy who was leering at her moments ago, now looked at her like she was a serial killer or something. He looked between her and Sherlock for some moments before scrambling as fast as he can away from there.

"Your wife is sleeping with your brother, by the way," Sherlock called after him.

Molly turned towards Sherlock. "What are you doing here?"

He placed his hand on her shoulder and started manoeuvring her in direction of the door, using his body as a shield to avoid her getting jostled in the crowd.

"You called for help."

"Bu-But, I called Greg."

They were outside the pub now.

Sherlock shrugged. "I was with him at that time."

"I thought you were in the midst of a case."

"Still am." Sherlock stopped a cab and they got in as he gave the cabbie her address.

"Then why did you come? Greg could have easily handled it."

Sherlock sighed and glared at her with a exasperated face."Shouldn't you be thanking me, instead of interrogating me?"

Molly blushed. Where had her manners gone?"Sorry. No! Thank you. Thank you for- for coming for me." Now! that she thought about it, he appeared like the hero in those romantic movies. Pity, Sherlock Holmes would never be anyone's hero, especially hers.

The cab stopped outside her flat.

"Why didn't you call me? Why Lestrade?" Sherlock asked, staring straight ahead but she could hear the hurt in his voice.

Molly considered lying, giving an excuse like Greg is an inspector, but opted for the truth instead.

"You were in the midst of a case and I thought I would be disturbing you."

"You would be disturbing me?" He asked, hurt morphed into anger.

"Well," she looked out the window self consciously, "You are usually too busy with your case to give a damn about someone else."

Sherlock didn't reply for quite sometime.

The cab stopped outside her apartment complex. She glanced over at Sherlock to say thank you once again and bid him goodbye.

"Molly, I- I just-," He took a deep breathe and turned his gaze towards her,"You once told me that if there was anything I need, I could have you. I just wanted to tell you that same applies to you. If there is anything you need- beating up drunk guys, help with autopsies, murdering your best friend who left you alone in the pub- you can have me."

Molly's felt warmth spreading her chest. That was probably the sweetest thing Sherlock or anyone had ever said to her. Maybe she mattered more to him than she realized.

She closed the distanced between them and placed a swift kiss on his cheek, making sure not to linger lest she made him uncomfortable.

"Thank you," She muttered, tried to express all her gratitude into that two word.

Molly was sure her face represented a tomato right now.

"Bye," she said and got out of the cab as fast as she could.

She noted his slightly surprised expression and heard him mumble a bye.

Damn her heart.

Molly Hooper was sure she had fallen in love with Sherlock Holmes all over again.

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