Sherlolly Oneshots

Loopy

Updated on time!  Should have been studying for midterms but nawwww.  Also, THAT FANART THO.  Hehe... chapter 69....

Enjoy!

~

It was seven o'clock when Molly Hooper received the call.  She'd been sitting on her couch in an oversized jumper and shorts, her hair in a bun and a cup of tea in hand as she slowly flipped through the pages of her book.  As she turned the page her phone lit up beside her.  Molly looked over, raised an eyebrow upon seeing that John was calling her, and, setting her book on her lap, answered.

"Hey, John."

"Molly?"  The voice on the other end sounded worried, "thank god."

"Is something wrong?"  Molly asked, panic lacing through her voice.

"Sherlock got shot." 

Molly's book clattered to the ground.  "What?  Oh my god is he okay?"

Molly was halfway out the door when John replied, "what?  Oh yeah-" there was a loud thud in the background, making Molly freeze as John began frantically yelling, "not the bloody bookcase you idiot!  Sit down!"

"John?"  Molly asked slowly, "what's going on?"

"Sherlock's alright, sort of."

"Sort of?"

"Well the wound is, for the most part, fine.  But we may or may not have given him a lot of drugs..."

"Oh no..."

"And we thought-"

"We?"

"Greg is here," John replied, followed by the familiar voice of Lestrade calling, "hey Molly!  Please come!"

"Alright John," Molly said in exasperation, "seriously what's going on?  Is Sherlock ok?"

There was a rustling, a "give me back my phone you bloody menace," some more rustling, and then John saying very quickly, "we gave Sherlock too many of those loopy painkillers he's become a menace please come as soon as- I am dead serious Sherlock if you don't give me my phone I swear to god I will-"

The line cut off.

Molly blinked, staring at her phone for a moment before flinging open her door.  221B it is. 

-

"Thank god you're here," were John Watson and Greg Lestrade's first, very synced, words as Molly clambered up the steps of 221B.  Molly looked around, seeing that Sherlock Holmes was nowhere in sight but that the bookcase that had previously been situated against the wall was now face-down, the books under it scattered.

"Where is he?"  Molly asked, beginning to reach into her bag for the necessary pills to reverse the effect of Sherlock's unintentional overdose.

John blinked, feeling his face drop as his gaze scanned the flat and as Lestrade's head swiveled side to side,"I swear he was just right he-"

"Hullo, Molly," a deep voice rang throughout the flat, causing the three people crowded together to freeze.  Molly was about to turn around when she felt two large hands slide around her waist and a tall figure press themselves against her back.

Molly let out a small yelp as the unmistakable voice of Sherlock Holmes whispered in her ear, "I am so glad you're here, these two have been very, uh, competless."

"Sherlock, get off me," Molly said, her face a deep shade of scarlet as she tried to pry herself from Sherlock's grip. 

The curly-haired detective only held on tighter, "yaknow," he said, words slurring, "I always thought you were very very very..." his words trailed off in an endless trail of "very"s.