A/N: This plot bunny bit me while I was editing some of my WIPS. No clue if it will interest anyone though.

"Sherlock you have no right to have my dates arrested like that!"

"If I may point out I had the Yard do the actual arresting. I just did my civil duty directing them to a wanted fugitive."

"No." Molly shook her head vehemently. "Don't use that logic to guilt-trip me. You know what I'm upset about."

"I'm sorry Molly, you might have to enlighten me. Or have you changed your criteria to accommodate terrorists into your ever-appalling taste in men?"

John leaned against the closet, arms folded as he watched them argue back and forth like a tennis ball match. Count on Sherlock to shamelessly visit Molly after sending an entire firearms unit to break a dinner date. In all honesty the outburst had been long overdue; it's just that John didn't know if he would be fortunate enough to witness it.

After the whole fake Moriarty business had been sorted out and all conversations of exile had been permanently discontinued, Sherlock had settled back into the terrible habit of cutting down Molly's love interests. Tom must have been a glitch in the system for he never held back his deductions. From closeted fetishes to just plain bad life decisions, Sherlock revealed anything everything that could put Molly off from dating them. When that didn't work, he did some impressive digging to uncover details that even the great Sherlock Holmes could not have figured out by the naked eye alone. Take Henry, the poor sod they were currently going on about.

"John! Tell Sherlock what I'm trying to say. I'm too angry to articulate."

"Um." He faltered, not expecting to be dragged into the argument. "I think she means she doesn't appreciate how you go out of your way to spoil her dates."

Sherlock, who had clearly been expecting John to take his side turned to face him with a look of utter betrayal.

"Are you telling me I should have let her date him?"

"No, I mean." John scratched his nose nervously. Shit, this was not a great situation to be in. "It's becoming a trend you know. Finding every possible fault in all the guys that ask her out. "Like this thing about Henry. You went through a lot of trouble just to find out about him funding a terrorist cell 10 years ago. He's done nothing wrong since then."

"Past actions are best predictors of future behavior." He explained bluntly.

Molly threw her hands up in exasperation.

"Okay," John unfolded his arms. He was suddenly getting defensive about defending Molly's point. "Henry's an extreme example. Take the past…" He mentally began tallying love interests he had thwarted.

"Nine." Molly provided.

"Yes! Nine. Wow really?" He asked Molly who fumed at him. "Right sorry. Anyway, you've butted into every date or potential date she's had, going even as far as to intimidate some because you said they were stupid."

"Which they were."

"No that's not—" He groaned. Sherlock was being difficult on purpose. He had to be. No one was this dense. "You're being a bit of a—"

"A fucking cockblocker!"

All eyes whirled to the pathologist. John gaped at her. He had never her swear before. The same could be said for Sherlock who looked equally scandalised.

"There I said it." She glared, eyes daring the consulting detective to say otherwise.

A pregnant pause couldn't be appropriately said to describe the silence that followed. Good lord, triplets could have been born in the span it took for Sherlock to reply; but reply he did.

"Given how determined you are to secure a life partner, and your extremely poor record of finding one, I only thought it considerate as your friend to point out undesirable traits in your candidates before you earned more heartache."

"By screening anyone with a penis that's remotely interested in me?"

Sherlock narrowed his eyes at her. "If need be."

"Fine." Molly narrowed her eyes in turn, seemingly to have come to a decision. "If you're going to be so helpful then you might as well do all the work."

"John you can't just stop there!"

Mary hands hovered Elizabeth's form. She had just finished strapping on the diaper when her husband stopped the tale; at the best part no less! As if they were conspiring against her, Elizabeth cooed delightfully over her father's silent quakes of laughter. "What happened?"

"Sorry, it's just his face," he breathed out between the laughs. "It was like he malfunctioned or something."

"John I swear if you don't—"

"Okay, okay." He blew out a breath. "So we both thought, or at least I thought she meant he should date her instead."

"She didn't?" she asked, confused.

"Nope." He grinned widely. "Molly asked Sherlock Holmes to find her a boyfriend."

A/N: To be continued…?