Sherlolly Oneshots

The On-Call Room (Doc!Lock)

Guys look I'm alive.  I'm not back for real, I just felt really bad that this hasn't been updated in ages.  Anyway, enjoy this more steamy oneshot (my gift to you, I'll try and write a fluff to oppose this later) and keep in mind the amount of Grey's Anatomy research that I had to do for this.  Enjoy!

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Beep.  Beep.  Beep.

The slow, monotonous beeping of the heart monitor rang in the ears of Sherlock Holmes.  The raven-haired surgeon narrowed his icy blue eyes as his hands worked carefully in the body before him.  The operating room was pressingly quiet and Sherlock flinched as a small ticking sound broke the muted atmosphere.

"Doctor Hooper," he whispered, looking up at the brown haired surgeon, "please cover your watch."  Molly Hooper narrowed her eyes at Sherlock though wordlessly covered her watch with her hand, earning a small nod from the curly-haired surgeon.

Sherlock looked back down at the body, his fingers working cautiously through the kidney of the patient.  His eyebrows furrowed as he searched for the tumor, this was harder than he'd expected.

Sherlock opened his mouth, about to ask a question when the heart monitor interrupted him, its slow, continuous beeping turned loud and rapid as if by the snap of a finger. 

"Damnit.  Suction.  Suction!"  Sherlock demanded, ducking closer to the body and the methodical movements of his fingers turning frantic as he desperately tried to search for the cause of the rapidly declining health of the patient before him.

"Bleeder," Molly Hooper said, jerking forward to get a better look at Holmes' movements. 

"I can see that, I just need to know where," Sherlock hissed.  From further down the operating table John Watson watched, his eyes narrowing as the atmosphere turned from controlled to panicked.  He was about to sit up and step in when Hooper shot him a look telling him to stay down.

"Calm down and try not to hit another artery, would you?"  Molly Hooper snapped, her eyes scouring the body.  Sherlock glared at her.

"Back off and let me do my job, would you?"  Hooper didn't respond, instead working her way around the table so she was next to Sherlock.

"Let me take over," she whispered harshly.  Sherlock didn't look at her.

"I can find it."

"You are training to be a neurosurgeon.  We only brought you in here for your cautious hands.  Now let me do my job and find this bleeder."

Sherlock then did look up at the general surgeon, holding her stare with narrowed eyes for a moment longer before moving out of the way.  Hooper automatically snatched a a tool and began to search for the bleeder.  A few tense moments later she let a small, relieved sigh.

"I found it.  Clamp please.  Anderson, more suction," she ordered, her hands working with skilled precision. "There," she said, stepping back from the body, slightly out of breath, "fixed.  That wasn't so hard, was it, Holmes?"

Sherlock let out a small huff, the glower on his face apparent even through the scrub mask.  "Terrific job," he said with a small sneer, "now let me continue trying to remove this man's tumor." 

As Sherlock began to step forward Molly quickly stepped in front of him.  "Wait.  Do you really think we're continuing?  No way, it's too risky."

"What?"  Sherlock asked, an eyebrow raised, "I can do this.  Move."  He made a move to step forward but Molly held her ground, her eyes narrowed.

"Too.  Risky."

Sherlock's nostrils flared, "Doctor Hooper," he said through gritted teeth, "you can't pull me from my work to treat a patient that is not mine and then not let me do what you need me to do!  I am trying to do my job!"