A/N: I still have several stories in the works, but have hit a wall in terms of inspiration. Here is a little something to tide the appetite in the meantime. As usual please forgive any spelling and/or grammatical mistakes.

Disclaimer: All Characters belong to their respective owners.

To say that Sherlock Holmes never eats during a case is a misconception. He never does have a sit down meal during those times, as he claims that digestion slows him down, much to John Watson's consternation. He does, however, snack frequently, as some of his more difficult cases can go on for days. The body is a transport, as it requires fuel to maintain its optimum efficiency.

Enter one Molly Hooper.

Molly being a creature of frugal habit on most occasions brought her own lunch from home. On more than one occasion, Sherlock finds her sitting in the Bart's canteen, eating said lunch. On the menu for that day she had tuna sandwich, made just the way she liked it, along with some carrot sticks, and grapes. Sherlock appeared and flopped into the seat across from her. He stole a few grapes and absentmindedly ate them while trying to charm her for a few body parts to experiment on.

A week later when he found her, Molly splurged and had gotten a burger and chips. She quite unconsciously pushed them forward slightly towards the detective. He stole a few while regaling Molly of his recent exploits in solving the case of Mr. Abernathy's death. Molly listened to him with rapt attention.

The third time she packed a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. Sherlock picked up the triangle half and examined it with dismay. "Really, Dr. Hooper. I know you can do better than this." He said. That didn't stop him from taking a bite and walking away with it.

The next time, John saw Sherlock had escalated to committing an act of outright thievery, stealing Molly's vegetable lo mein right out of her hands, right as they were going out to the door.

"Hey!" Molly exclaimed.

"Really not good for you. Way too much MSG." He stated. That didn't stop him from spinning around and slurping the noodles himself as he went out the door.

As John and Sherlock sat in a cab going back to Baker's street, John really couldn't help but comment, "I don't get it. We just got off a case helping Angelo's nephew out of a spot of trouble. Angelo is so grateful, he offers us a free meal, which you decline. We come to Bart's and you steal Molly Hooper's lunch."

Sherlock ignored him and continued to noisily consume the lo mein.

"You really are a bully. Bad enough you take advantage of her, you have to take the poor girl's lunch as well?" John chastised him.

Sherlock was silent the rest of the way. The noodles sat heavily in his stomach.

Two days later, when Molly sat for lunch, she wasn't alone. She sat with the new oncology specialist. The handsome doctor had bought Molly lunch much to her delight. Sherlock approached the pair.

Molly introduced him, "Devon, this is Sherlock Holmes."

Sherlock began to aggressively chow down on portions of Molly's meal.

"Hey! Stop that! If you're that hungry, why don't you get your own lunch!" Molly admonished him.

Sherlock gave her a look as if to say "You're kidding, right?"

The oncologist looked uncomfortable; he felt as if he was getting in between a lover's spat. The detective eyed the other man with a sneering look, giving Devon a sense that he was much beneath him.

Devon decided it was time to take his leave. "Umm..Yeah Molly…Thanks for the company. I better get back…" He had exited rather quickly.

Molly gave Sherlock a scathing look.

The next day, when Sherlock approached, Molly was eating a single slice of pizza, with nothing else. She gave the consulting detective a challenging look, daring him to mess with her. Over the next few days Molly ate sparingly at lunch, and snacked more throughout the day to make up for it. She didn't mind Sherlock's magpie-like ways in the beginning when it came to food, but interfering with her lunch date was going too far. She had to set boundaries with the detective. He was always deducing or interfering with her dates, and yet made no move to claim her for himself. Molly wanted love and companionship, and if Sherlock would not willingly provide it, he had no right to obstruct her efforts to obtain it.

The uninviting meals did more than just put off Sherlock, they stopped him from snacking at all. He began neglecting himself completely during cases, not even taking Mrs. Hudson's tea and biscuits. His cheekbones became sharper as he lost weight. The detective became more irritable when someone tried to force or slip something to him. His stamina was affected as he was becoming more lethargic. John felt compelled to try to complete cases quickly, just so Sherlock would eat. Even when he sat for proper meals, he didn't seem to take any joy or pleasure in it, mostly listlessly picking at his food till the doctor and Mrs. Hudson were satisfied. Watson was concerned. It wasn't until one late afternoon at Bart's did John have a break in the case of Sherlock not eating.

Sherlock was using his favorite microscope while Molly sat at the other side of the lab table, several feet away. She was working on the paperwork in her files and was munching on a bag of crisps. The room was silent aside from the crunching of crisps and the random crinkle of the chip bag. Once in awhile, Molly's tongue would dart out in order to lick off the excess salt off her lips. Sherlock was distracted. He sharply reminded her about the rules of no eating in the lab, and that it was unhygienic. Molly resisted and eye roll and went to the ladies washroom to clean up. John observed him through the small window on the lab door. Sherlock remained still for several moments before silently moving over to where Molly had sat. He picked up Molly's abandoned chip bag and removed a crisp, consuming it in one bite. Watson believed he knew what he had to do.

He started leaving food around the flat trying to tempt the detective into eating. He had hoped his magpie-like ways take over and he would start snacking again. It was much like laying traps for a disinterested lion. Sherlock never took the bait. One morning the army doctor sat at Sherlock's table eating a full English breakfast prepared by Mrs. Hudson. He was quite exuberant in his praise of the deliciousness meal, encouraging Sherlock to have a bite.

He declined with a polite "No. Thank you."

Watson slammed his knife and fork onto the table. He had enough. "Damnit Sherlock! You cannot continue on with such poor eating habits! I'm a doctor, and I'm telling you that you have to start taking better care of yourself and living a healthier lifestyle! I saw you stealing crisps from Molly Hooper!"

"It doesn't taste the same."

"What?"

"It. Does. Not. Taste. The. Same." The detective repeated, slower to enunciate every word. He crossed his arms over his chest and pouted slightly. "The things Molly has…" The consulting detective made a gesture with his hand. "always taste better."

"So…stolen food tastes better?" Next thing he knew, Sherlock would be stealing candy from babies. Would the detective develop a taste for crime? "Is that why you're always filching things from her?" Watson asked in wonderment.

Sherlock shrugged noncommittally. His body language looked every bit of a surly teenager.

"The societal custom of sharing food is a sign of intimacy. Molly stopped sharing her food with me." He explained.

"So…you want to be intimate…with Molly Hooper." John said slowly. "Where did you even get the idea?"

"I watched a documentary on apes and chimps on the BBC. Considering they are 98% genetically similar to us, I figure they would be an appropriate model for social behavior. Appeal to her on the most basic level."

John snorted. "I wouldn't say that to her face, if I were you." He continued carefully, "So…Molly…"

"Yes Molly." Sherlock said irritably. "She won't share her food with me."

"Doesn't sharing go both ways?" Watson asked.

"Of course!" Sherlock's eyes widened. "I have yet engage her in my side of the pair-bond by sharing my food with her! Watson that's brilliant!" He jumped out of his seat, hastily donned his Belstaff, and ran out the door.

Sherlock started subtlety at first. He began leaving open crisp packets around her in the lab. Molly complained about the increased mess, and kept muttering about consulting detective babies that have to learn to clean up for themselves. He tried chocolate buttons, thinking that chocolate may have more of an attractive feminine appeal. They only seemed to attract Watson, as he kept eating them as he found them. He decided to focus to lunchtime, as it narrowed her range of area and encouraged the mindset of eating. Molly was surprised at first that Sherlock suddenly appeared with food and silently sat with her during her lunch hour. He was always careful to choose finger foods, in hopes it would encourage her sharing. Mozzarella sticks, chicken fingers, packets of biscuits, none seemed to faze Molly. When the canteen's food proved to be too unattractive to tempt, Sherlock resorted to take-away foods. He tried samosas, dim sum, and other exotic cuisines. It was more variation than Sherlock ever expected himself to ever eat, which he did since it would appear suspicious if he offered her food he was not willing to eat himself. With every failed attempt, Sherlock left the table a bit more morose and heavy with a belly full of unhealthy food.

Molly was blissfully oblivious of Sherlock's intention. She simply quietly enjoyed his presence. She didn't want to draw attention to additional time he was spending with her and spooking him. Again, it was John Watson who managed to upset the delicate balance between the two. He joined the pair at their table one day.

"Fish and chips again? That's the third time this week!" Watson commented.

Even excellent fare of Marylebone Road was taking a toll on the detective.

"Molly, why don't you put the git out of his misery and share some of his food with him? He has been trying to get you to eat with him for over a month now."

The pathologist looked at Sherlock with a surprised expression and blushed.

Sherlock looked at his traitorous friend with a hooded expression and stood up. His cheekbones pinked with embarrassment. His mind was already thinking of ways to get back at him.

"I believe, after all the times you have provided for me, it is only fair that I reciprocate in kind with dinner. " He said with a solemn formality.

"So…you have been trying to manipulate me all this time. Like some experiment." Molly stated.

Sherlock's knees weakened to the point where he sat back down in his seat. This conversation certainly wasn't going in the direction he was hoping.

Molly stood up.

"We have known each other a long time. I had hoped we were past all that. I thought we were friends." She said sadly.

She took a few steps away from the table and stopped. Then, she turned around and moved back. Picking up a chip from Sherlock's container, she made a show of consuming it before walking away to the morgue.

It gave the consulting detective hope.

Things seemingly resumed to the old normal. John and Molly sat together in canteen when Sherlock made his usual dramatic entrance, with his Belstaff flying behind him. He swooped in and took a few carrot sticks from the pathologist before making his escape. Although this time he did so with a not so subtle wink towards Molly. It caused her to giggle.

"At least he is eating healthier." John said.

Molly smiled. "He made a deal with me. He promised to make up for every meal he took from me. So far it's been working well."

"Lucky bastard. I need to start watching more Animal Planet." John murmured into his cup of coffee.