Sherlolly prompt: It was one thing to call Sherlock a freak, but when Anderson uses that term to describe Molly, Sherlock makes sure it never happens again.

Molly woke up to the vexing sound of her phone alerting her that she had a caller. Groaning in annoyance, she reached over to answer and groaned again seeing who the caller was.

"What do you want, Sherlock?"

"I need you on a case with John and me. Come to 221B in an hour."

"Sherl-"

He hung up. Damn him.

Muttering, she flung off the covers and trudged to the kitchen for something to prepare her for the craziness this day would no doubt offer her.

Ever since Sherlock had 'come back to life', Molly found herself on more and more cases with Sherlock and John. It was becoming so regular that whenever she heard of a crime on the telly, she turned to look at her phone, waiting for Sherlock to call her.

Honestly, she loved coming. It provided more time to be with Sherlock and she was proud to show off her skills. As always, however, Sherlock could be very bothersome. Like this morning. Only Sherlock would call her at 7 in the morning on her day off.

"Ah, Molly! You're late," Sherlock's voice came from the kitchen when Molly entered the flat.

"By two minutes!" She rolled her eyes at John, who was putting on a coat. He smiled at her, before eyeing Sherlock.

"Sorry about him. The case is a 9. Lestrade says there are three bodies found at the site. Sherlock was adamant that we needed to have you on board."

"It's fine, John."

"See? Molly is fine with it," Sherlock came around the corner with an enormous grin plastered on his face. "A 9, Molly, a 9! Haven't had one in some time! Now, come on, we have no time to lose!"

Before she could react, Sherlock had grabbed her hand and was pulling her down the stairs. She shared a brief look of surprise with John before she was promptly placed into a taxi shoved between Sherlock and John.

Molly and John could barely keep up with Sherlock's long legs as they headed over to the crime scene. Greg Lestrade was quick to greet them, giving them a brief overview of what they would be doing.

"Sherlock, John, I'll take you upstairs. Molly, I'll-"

"Doctor Hooper."

Lestrade glanced over at Sherlock. "Sorry?"

"It's Doctor Hooper to you," Sherlock said tensely. Molly glanced closely at Sherlock, noting the why his jaw clenched and his eyes glared at Lestrade. Was Sherlock…jealous?

She quickly shook her head, removing the ridiculous notion from her mind. "No, it's fine Greg. I think we've been on enough cases now for you to call me Molly."

Lestrade smiled and Molly again glanced at Sherlock to find him a little put out. How odd, he was so cheerful a few moments ago.

"As I was saying Molly, I'll lead you over to the ambulances. We have three bodies we need you to look at. Hopefully, you can offer us some new insight."

Lestrade brought Molly over to the bodies before quickly rushing back to take Sherlock and John upstairs to the flat. Without waiting another moment, Molly began her investigations on the three bodies before her.

She became so lost in her work that she almost did not notice the new person beside her.

"Oh God, is the freak bringing you on all his cases now?"

Molly tensed when she heard the obnoxious voice of Anderson. That was a major downfall of going to many of Sherlock's cases…Anderson was almost always there.

"Yes, he is. He needs my help."

"Sherlock? Needing help? How rich," Anderson moved down to look down at the body of one the dead males.

Frantic to ignore him, Molly began to speak about her observations, not caring if Anderson listened or not. It was the only way to ease herself away from Anderson's strange and annoying characteristics.

When she finally looked up, Anderson was staring at her as if she had just muttered witchcraft.

"You're as much as a freak as he is."

She stepped back in shock. Mentally yelling at herself for not replying, she opened her mouth to do so when suddenly, a fist crashed into Anderson's face.

She gasped as Sherlock reached down to pick up Anderson and punch him again.

"Sherlock!" John was suddenly there, dragging Sherlock off the man. Although John was short, his years of war had made him strong. Sherlock was off Anderson in a moment.

"What the hell?!" Anderson yelled, holding his jaw and wiping away at his bleeding nose.

Lestrade was just behind John, bending down to hoist Anderson up. "Sherlock, explain yourself."

Sherlock ignored Lestrade, glaring at Anderson. "Apologize to Molly."

"Sherlock, it's fine…" Molly tried to intervene, but when Sherlock turned to stare at her with those angry eyes, she remained silent.

"No, it's not fine. Anderson."

"I'm sorry, Molly," Anderson winced with the movement of his jaw.

"Thank you."

An awkward moment of silence passed before Lestrade spoke up. "John, maybe you should take Molly home. I can deal with these two," Lestrade turned to glare at both Sherlock and Anderson.

"Sure thing," John put a reassuring arm around Molly before steering away from the crime scene.

The next time Molly saw Sherlock, it was in the lab two days later. His eyes were glued to the microscope, as usual.

Hesitantly moving towards him, she asked, "How did things with Lestrade go?"

"Adequate. He took care of everything. Anderson will not be vexing you any longer."

"Sherlock."

He looked up at her serious tone, his eyebrow raised in question.

"Thank you."

"It was nothing, Molly."

Before she could stop herself, Moly leaned down to bestow Sherlock a kiss to his cheek. She smiled to herself when she saw the tips of his ears redden.

"You're welcome, Molly."