DON'T MAKE JOKES, MOLLY

A/N: I own nothing. Everything belongs to Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, BBC, Steven Moffat, and Mark Gatiss. If I owned Sherlock and Molly Hooper, then there would be a lot more Sherlolly in the show. All mistakes are mine. Reviews and constructive criticism are welcome.

Molly sat between Sherlock and John in the courtroom. She rested her trembling hands on her lap as she looked around the gallery. She caught John's eye and gave him a nervous smile. He raised his thumb as if to say that she would be fine. She took a deep breath as she glanced at Sherlock, who was staring at her.

"You'll be fine. You discovered the excess nicotine in Mr Tregennis's system. Don't forget that."

His attempt at easing her mind about testifying warmed her heart. She smiled at him. "Thanks, Sherlock. Although I have done this before and I haven't forgotten the evidence."

"So why are you nervous?" He furrowed his brows at her.

"I'm not overly fond of speaking in front of this many people." She could feel his gaze on her as she ducked her head in embarrassment.

He sighed loudly as if he thought she were an idiot. "Imagine that you, the judge, and the attorneys are the only ones in the room. Eliminate the others from your mind. The audience doesn't matter. Your testimony does."

That makes sense, she thought. If only it were that easy. "Thanks, Sherlock." She looked at him and smiled.

"You're welcome." He smiled back at her. "And, oh, don't make jokes."

"Sherlock…" John warned. Sherlock only rolled his eyes and scowled at his friend. Molly shook her head and sighed.

The prosecution called her to the witness stand. As she rose from her seat, she felt a light squeeze on her left hand. Blushing and eyes wide with shock, she glanced at Sherlock, who was sitting to her left. He only gave her a smile.

She presented her testimony without a hitch. Sherlock's advice was working well! She was confident that the jury would convict Dr Sterndale of the murder. So she began to breathe a little easier.

The attorney for the defence approached her for cross-examination. "Dr Hooper, how many of your autopsies have you performed on dead people?"

"Sorry, w-what?" What kind of question is that? She began giggling. Then the audience started laughing with her.

The defence attorney looked at the judge as if she confessed to the murder. "Your Honour, I don't understand what I did to make the witness laugh."

The judge was about to answer when Molly held up her hand. "I'll answer your question." She glanced at the judge, who was now looking at her with an amused expression. She giggled some more before attempting to restrain herself.

"Well, Dr Hooper?" The defence attorney looked properly pissed off now.

"Could you please repeat the question?" She gave him her puppy eyes.

"Dr Hooper, how many of your autopsies have you performed on dead people?" he asked her through gritted teeth.

"All of them. The live ones put up too much of a fight." She smiled innocently at the attorney before bursting into laughter. Loud laughter from the audience, the prosecution, and even the judge followed.

The cross-examination continued uneventfully after the attorney recovered from his blunder. Ten minutes later, Molly was released from the witness stand. As she was the last witness for the day, the court was adjourned shortly after she returned to her seat between Sherlock and John.

The latter was still laughing when the three left the courtroom. "That… that was… that was good! I haven't laughed like this in a while. Thanks for that, Molly." John kissed her cheek before pulling out his mobile to text Mary.

She giggled as she looked at the scowling Sherlock. "Oh, Sherlock. I couldn't resist making that joke. It was too good an opportunity to pass up."

The detective hmphed. "At least it showed how incompetent the defence is. Well done, Molly." He smiled at her but glared at John.

She stared at him with a raised eyebrow. She was about to comment on it when the former army doctor spoke. "You laughed."

Sherlock's cheeks turned scarlet, but his frown remained. "It was a bit funny," he answered with a smirk. The smile disappeared when he looked at his friend. "Don't you have a date with Mary, John?"

"Uh, yeah." She answered his questioning look with a shrug. "Why do you ask?"

They had reached the curb and Sherlock was hailing a cab. "Take this one to the restaurant," he said as a cab stopped in front of them.

John entered and scooted over. Molly was moving to follow him when she felt Sherlock's fingers wrap around her arm. He closed the door without a word, leaving a bewildered blogger to tell the cabbie the name of the restaurant where he was meeting his girlfriend.

"Why did you do that?" Molly asked as Sherlock led her in the opposite direction. "That was rude."

"He was flirting with you when he already has a girlfriend!" His voice was low, but she could detect a lot of anger in it.

She rolled her eyes. "He wasn't flirting. He was probably just amused and surprised that I, for once, made a good joke. Hey, even the defendant laughed."

"But he kissed you," he growled.

"On the cheek! He's a friend. He's allowed to do that."

"Am I allowed to kiss you too?"

The timid way he asked the question made her look at him. She cocked her eyebrow at the puppy eyes he was giving her. "W-well, y-yeah. You're a friend too. You may kiss me on the cheek." She grinned at him.

He had stopped walking, so she stopped and faced him. He was searching her face, or perhaps her eyes, for something. What it was, she didn't know.

Her heart began to pound in her chest when she felt his hands on her cheeks. His thumbs were caressing her cheekbones and he was looking into her eyes. A moment later, his lips touched hers.

His lips slightly moved against hers, as if he were unsure of what he was doing. Sensing his inexperience, she took a moment before she responded to his kiss. Once she did, he turned them around and backed her against the wall. He was running his tongue across her lips when she heard someone yell, "Get a room!" She opened her eyes and inadvertently opened her mouth. She closed her eyes again when she felt his tongue touch hers. Oh, God, she thought. My God, he's a quick study, she mused as they deepened the kiss.

She whimpered in disappointment when he pulled away from her. But he was breathing heavily and she could barely see his blue-green irises. At least it's not because he didn't like kissing me, she thought with a bit of triumph. "Are you OK, Sherlock?"

He kept gazing at her but didn't let go of her face. "Y-yes. Yes, of course." He cleared his throat and then smirked. "So, how was I?"

She rolled her eyes. Cheeky bastard, she thought. She shrugged, her eyes twinkling with mischief. "Could use more practice. Overall? Not bad."

She laughed at the look of shock on his face. "You saucy little minx." His suddenly seductive baritone sent shivers down her spine. Damn it, Sherlock.

"I think we should practise more after some dinner. I'm starving." She laughed again at the pout that started to form. She removed his hand from her cheek and began pulling him towards the Chinese restaurant across the street.

"OK. Let's have dinner." He chuckled. "We need to celebrate your very successful day as an expert witness." He kissed her briefly before leading her towards the restaurant.

Clearly, I was reading The Adventure of the Devil's Foot when I wrote this. Chapter 6 of Your Worst Fears was also being a little bitch, so I wrote this to get the creative juices flowing. Hope you guys liked this. :)