Single-Dad AU/slightly Uni!lock

AN: This was a hard one for me to finish, since I don't think I've touched the bare bones of it since 2014. Yes, 2014. Hope you all enjoy it, at least! :)

It had been nineteen years since Sherlock had stepped foot on a university campus. And he strode through the halls now with the same arrogant, prideful swagger he'd had back then.

'Sherlock,' John hissed. 'This isn't a good idea.'

'Thank you for the input, John. I have heard your opinion 27 times since we left Baker Street, and, as I have done every time you offered it, I have chosen to ignore it.'

'She will kill you, you know that right? Georgina will properly murder you. And get away with it, you've taught her how.'

Sherlock smirked. Yes, if his genius daughter did choose to off him, he took pride in the knowledge that she would do it properly.

'Can't you just let it go? It's just a Uni course!' John fell back a few steps when Sherlock took a sudden turn down another hall.

'Oh, please,' Sherlock snapped. 'From the first day of term, all I've heard from her is Dr Hooper is so amazing! Dr Hooper is brilliant! Dr Hooper the best!' He pitched his voice in a mimicry of his 16-year-old daughter's, then dropped back to a dark scowl. 'And, to my absolute horror, she called me last night with the news that she had decided to pursue a career in pathology! Pathology, John! My baby girl, my only child, my brilliant offspring, no longer wants to follow in my footsteps to become a Consulting Detective, only the second one in the world! Instead, she has found a new career idol in this stranger!'

John felt both amused and exasperated. Sherlock Holmes was the most prideful man in the world and he loved his daughter to pieces. And when those two things clashed… well, god help this poor professor.

'Here it is.' Sherlock came to a sudden halt outside a lecture hall door.

'Sherlock, come on, think this through,' John whispered hotly. 'You're going to barge in there, during your daughter's class, and what? Thoroughly humiliate her?'

Sherlock scoffed. 'Once I have put this fraud of a professor in his place, Georgina will see that there is only one career choice for her and she will once more look up to me!'

With that, the World's Only Consulting Detective (and Biggest Child) yanked open the double doors and strode into the large lecture hall. John hesitantly followed, shaking his head and keeping close to the exit.

Every head turned back as the doors banged against the wall. Sherlock took the long steps two at a time, his Belstaff flowing behind him like a cape.

'Excuse me, can I help you?' A petite, brown-haired woman was sitting on a table at the front of the classroom and had looked up in surprise at their entrance. Sherlock came to a stop just a few feet shy of her. Her hair was pulled back in a high ponytail and thick, black-rimmed glasses were perched on her pert nose. She wore loose trousers and a cherry-print cardigan over a brightly patterned blouse; the sight was almost blinding. She was young, no older than 32, obviously an assistant or such filling in until Dr Hooper arrived.

'Dad?!' He turned around to see Georgina in the front row. He sent her a wink, then turned back to the woman.

'I would like to speak with Dr Hooper. Where is he?'

The woman sat up and crossed her arms. 'Why?'

'Dad!' Georgina hissed warningly behind him, but he ignored her.

'Apparently Dr Hooper has been filling my daughter's head with the idea that being a pathologist,' he wrinkled his nose at the word, 'is better than being a Consulting Detective. And I'd like to set him straight.'

The woman looked down for a moment, schooling her features, then cleared her throat and smiled up at him. 'And what makes pathology a poor choice?'

Sherlock rolled his eyes. 'Not a poor choice, per se. But an inferior one when the World's Only Consulting Detective is your father. Now, please tell me where I can find this idiot.'

'Well, there is an idiot in this room, but it isn't Dr Hooper,' the woman quipped, fire dancing in her eyes. 'You see, as a Consulting Detective, pathology is neither inferior nor superior to your chosen profession. Rather, it complements it, I think you'll find. After all, based on your many exploits, Mr Holmes, I gather you often need the expertise and assistance of specialist registrars, pathologists, Inspectors, and others. Including a doctor-turned-blogger,' she peered around him and smiled at John in the back before looking back at him. 'Am I wrong?'

A sound very much like a cough covering a laugh came from the back and Sherlock barely resisted the urge to turn around and stick his tongue out at John.

He huffed and reluctantly grumbled, 'No, you're not wrong.'

She hopped off the desk and paced toward him. The top of her head barely came to his chest, yet he found himself intimidated by the petite woman. With a wide smile, she thrust her hand out. 'Doctor Molly Hooper. Pleased to meet you, Mr Holmes. I've heard a great deal about you.'

Sherlock didn't remember shaking her hand; he was gaping, running through every conversation he'd had with Georgina about the infamous Dr Hooper. How had he missed the basic fact that his nemesis was a woman?

Not that it mattered, of course. She was still the doctor attempting to derail his plans for Georgina's future.

A very brilliant, young, beautiful woman doctor. Came the unhelpful snicker of John in his Mind Palace.

'Likewise,' Sherlock replied through clenched teeth and jerked his hand back.

Unperturbed by his demeanor, Dr Hooper gestured toward an empty aisle seat in the third row. 'You're welcome to stay for the remainder of the lecture. Afterwards, maybe we can get coffee. I'd love to hear more about how you think pathology isn't good enough for your daughter.'

There was a burst of laughter around them.

He drew himself up tall at the challenge in her stare and gave her a toothy grin, the one that sent John likened to a "soulless smile."

'Nothing would please me more.'

oOo

'You planned this, didn't you?'

Georgina widened her eyes innocently and took a bit of her cake. 'I don't know what you're talking about.'

John shook his head and looked over at the couple sitting at the table across the restaurant. Sherlock and Dr Hooper had been arguing back and forth for almost two hours. Both were brilliant, stubborn, and refused to back down.

'You never had any intention of pursuing pathology as a career choice. Ever since you were a tot, you had a one-track mind to follow in your father's footsteps,' he accused. Georgina pursed her lips to keep from smiling.

John narrowed his eyes at her. 'You wanted them to meet. Why?'

Rolling her eyes, Georgina sighed and pointed her fork at him. 'You don't observe, Uncle John.' She tilted her head toward her dad and Dr Hooper. 'He's lonely. And with me gone away to Uni, who is going to be there for him?'

John nearly spit out the sip of coffee he'd taken. Dabbing his face, he hissed, 'You're setting your father up on a date?!'

'Why not?' Georgina shrugged one shoulder. 'He never had a chance to fall in love; he put his whole life into raising me. When I met Dr Hooper, I immediately knew she would be perfect for him, so I-'

'You riled up your father with the idea that you were abandoning your dream of becoming the World's Second Consulting Detective, knowing he would confront the person he deemed responsible, thus forcing them together and humbling your father at the same time.'

'Yep!'

John gaped at his niece. 'And if it doesn't work?'

Georgina gave him the same look Sherlock often bestowed upon him, the look that said Don't be an idiot, and turned her head.

'I think it's working quite well,' she smiled smugly. John followed her gaze and his eyebrows flew up in surprise. Sherlock was no longer scowling and arguing, but rather smiling warmly at the young doctor, whose pleased blush was more than telling.

Georgina beamed triumphantly. 'I'll bet you 500 quid that you'll be working on a Best Man speech in 6 months.'

They both turned to watch as the couple stood and walked out, hand in hand.

Completely floored, John turned back to his niece with a dumbstruck expression on his face.

Georgina simply took a sip of coffee and wrinkled her nose in amusement. 'Make that 3 months.'