Just a little Sherlolly drabble. Have fun!

"Aha!" declared Sherlock as soon as Molly had slammed her door shut. "You! The perpetrator of the crime!"

Molly was reasonably surprised.

"Explain your sentiments at once," he said, going into higher and higher prose as he got more and more agitated. "Is this a beastly way to tantalize me into a ridiculous obsession with codes? Is this your way of getting back at me for being oh-so-rude to you? What kind of game are you playing here, Molly Hooper?"

"Um –" Molly swallowed, cornered at the door. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Don't you?" he spat. "If that's so, then tell me, Miss Hooper, what is this Romione that is posted all over your fridge, in your notebooks, and in the oddest of places? Answer to that, Doctor! What strange and unknown form of code are you using, may I ask? Canons? And ships? I would assume you are trying to become a pirate, but we both know you're past that stage."

Molly blinked at him. Toby purred in the distance, looking at Molly deeply. Molly glanced at Toby briefly, as if to share a small look of code. And then she broke down into laughter.

Sherlock had to stand there, as Molly burst into peals and peals of laughter. And she just did not stop. She kept laughing, and she fell down on her knees, unable to support herself because of the lack of air. She kept laughing, her head bobbing, her hair swishing with the shakes of her laughter. Sherlock Holmes had never seen Molly laugh like that.

"I see no reason for laughter," said Sherlock stiffly.

"Oh Sherlock," said Molly between breaths. "I do not know what to say. I have nothing to say to you. Oh my god, why did you not go on the internet?"

"I don't find the internet a very good source for breaking codes," said Sherlock angrily. "Besides, your connection was down, and being slow. I tried searching throughout your books and bookshelves for words which occurred again in a similar context. However, nothing. In fact, the only place I found the words occurring were in your notebooks, accompanied with some drawings, and on your fridge. Among with other absurd words – what on earth is Destiel?"

"Okay, we need to slow down a bit," said Molly. "I need a cup of tea, first off. Let's settle down and assume that I do not, in fact, want to be a pirate. Okay? Okay."

And she laughed a little more at that.

"I change my hypothesis. Maybe you have brain damage."

Molly chuckled. "Not particularly. Okay, here's what ships, canons and the words you find are. We'll go one by one. You know how in some fictional universes, there are always some couples, or relationships? Or some realities and some events that did happen according to the book?"

"How does that help us? As if we need to iterate the events of a book. Of course some events happened according to a book. There's always events like that."

"Yes, but we're getting closer, come on. You need to understand basics first. So. We have our book events. There's always people who write things beyond the book or TV series, see?"

"I suppose. It's correctly termed Fanfiction, if I'm not wrong," said Sherlock.

"Precisely. Now, things that happen according to the book, show, or movie are canon. On the other hand, things, or couples, or anything else that is beyond the book are non canon?"

Sherlock's eye twitched. A muscle on his jaw was twisting.

"Now, shipping is the act of liking the idea of a relationship. For example, I ship... Um – I ship, well – I sort of ship Mrs. Hudson and her new boyfriend. Get it?"

Sherlock was staring at her like she was an alien.

"I'm assuming you get it. Now, the thing is, some fictional ships actually come true according to canon, see? And ships are typically called by a mesh of the names of the characters. I ship Ron and Hermione from Harry Potter, and they are canon. No Piracy. Only sentiment and ridiculousness."

"I don't like you," he informed her.

"I can live with that," said Molly, struggling to contain her grin.

"Stop laughing," he added.

Which, of course, brought Molly to laughter. She saw Sherlock, and for a second, he only looked bemused at her laughing her guts out. This made Molly self conscious, and Sherlock's expression changed into something different. He seemed to be making his mind up for something, and before Molly could ask him what was wrong -

"I would like to enquire, though..." said Sherlock thoughtfully.

"Yeah?" asked Molly, moving to the kitchen, not thinking.

"What does Mary mean when she says she ships Sherlolly?" asked Sherlock.

Molly paused on her tracks. Her hand, confused at being stopped midway to the kettle, fell back dumbly. "Goddammit, Mary," said Molly under her breath.

"I have no idea," said Molly lightly.

"You don't?" asked Sherlock, watching her.

"None, whatsoever," said Molly, swallowing.

"Because it does suspiciously sound like a mesh of two names I know."

"Well, that pairing is completely non-canon," said Molly nervously. "I am well aware that it could never happen."

"You are?" asked Sherlock, thoughtfully again.

"Of course. Something may be liked by the author, but the character may steer them away from it. I've heard it happen – character getting a mind of his own and all that."

"If your hypothesis is correct, the author definitely wanted this pairing to occur?" asked Sherlock, cornering her at the counter. Molly could definitely not escape.

"Well, maybe not the author," Molly laughed nervously. "You don't know these authors, they only want pain and destruction on their characters, you know – awful people, authors, the very versions of Satans on earth, I swear to G-"

"Molly?" said Sherlock slowly.

"Mmh?" squeaked Molly.

"Shut up."

It was a command, simply put. Molly pressed her lips together.

His hands fluttered to her wrists, prying her defensive stance open. Molly had never ever felt so exposed, so completely bared to a person. He watched only her eyes, carefully, gently. Molly swallowed again.

"Your pulse is racing," he informed her.

"Yeah?" squeaked Molly again. "I'm sure there's a reason."

"Really?" asked Sherlock. "I cannot imagine what your reason would be."

"No?" asked Molly, sweat breaking out on her forehead.

"Molly Hooper?" said Sherlock gently.

"Yeah Sherlock?" she asked, trying to keep the squeak out of her voice.

"Although I dislike everything connected to shipping without ever having properly researched it, or having conducted an experiment on it – I will concede to the fact that – I think we should be canon," he said.

"Um –" Molly waited for him to do something, maybe kiss her like they did in so many fanfictions.

"I would kiss you," said Sherlock, "But you seem to be having a seizure, and while I lack manners and any sense of social understanding, I do know that kissing a woman without consent is one of the things which are a bit not good."

"Oh, fuck," said Molly. She was terribly, terribly nervous, but she pressed her lips to his cheek, proceeding to bury her face into her hands.

"Molly, it really wouldn't do if you were as socially inept as me," said Sherlock.

"Sherlock, you have known me for years, and you know full well that I am the most socially awkward person on the planet."

"I had hoped you'd be more versed in this than me," said Sherlock, frustrated. "As it happens, I know little on how to proceed either."

"Um – maybe we should – I dunn –"

Sherlock took the lead, thankfully, and swooped down to press a kiss on her lips. Molly would have said something, if her heart had not jumped to her neck at the bite of his teeth, at the slow way he managed to open her lips, at the way he managed to press his tongue into her mouth. Molly, on the other hand, tried to regulate and control her breathing.

"Molly, why are you controlling your breathing?" asked Sherlock, between kisses. Or between a kiss. The initial kiss had just melted into – well, whatever.

"I'm going to pass out from lack of oxygen," said Molly honestly. "I have to concentrate. Can't have a black out."

Sherlock chuckled deeply against her lips. "I'd call this canon, I think."

"Most definitely," nodded Molly. "The characters figured their shit out."