Sherlock Imagines

The Mouse and the Vixen (Molrene)

Day Nine of SHIPPING HELL
Ship Suggester: Moi.
A/N: MOL-RENE! MOL-RENE! MOL-RENE! WHOOOOOOOOO~!

Yes, Molly had heard of Irene Adler prior to the woman's first visit. She'd even examined "her" body at the morgue. She just never expected THE Woman to take such an interest in her. After all, she was just a mousy, timid pathologist, and she, well... she was the Dominatrix that brought the nation to its knees.
But lately, that appeared to be exactly what was happening. Every morning, Molly would open the lab, and within fifteen minutes, the Dominatrix would be on the stool next to her, having brought Molly her morning coffee, and flirting shamelessly. Molly would be flustered, blushing like crazy, but politely making conversation. Maybe not the best choice to "encourage" The Woman(™), but Molly really didn't actually mind the flirting. It was... nice.
And everything was going well, that is, until Sherlock needed help.
"Mol- Ms Adler?" He had to cut himself off immediately upon seeing her, and if he hadn't been so focused on trying to figure out why she was there, he would've noticed how utterly traumatized Molly looked. Now, she'd gotten over her crush on Sherlock- she knew when she wasn't wanted, but that didn't mean she wanted people knowing she had a fugitive sex worker visiting her daily for coffee and flirting.
"Hello to you, too, Sherlock." Irene purred, eyes flitting quickly over him and John before returning to Molly.
"So, My Little Mouse, what were you saying, again?" She urged Molly to continue her story, acting as if the two men weren't even there.
"N-Nothing, it was, uh... nothing." Her voice became minute, eyes dropping back to her microscope. Irene frowned for a second, but quickly recovered, a smooth grin spreading to her lips.
"You know, you look absolutely darling when you're doing all your science-y stuff." They both knew Irene was aware of proper terminology, they were also both acutely aware that she was trying to get the detective and blogger to bugger off. She tucked a stray piece of hair behind Molly's ear, leaning in to nibble right below it. The pathologist wasn't sure why Irene chose to do that, of all things, but... she liked it. Besides, it seemed to work. John awkwardly cleared his throat, looking away.
"Sherlock, maybe we should come ba-" He rubbed the back of his neck in attempt to mask his embarrassment.
"Nonsense, John. We won't be much bother, I simply need to see a body. Molly?" Reluctantly, Molly pulled away, scurrying over to do as Sherlock asked. Meanwhile, if looks could kill, Sherlock would have received an extremely cruel, bloody death, from the glare Irene was giving him. Preferably one where his heart was forcibly ripped from his chest for the pure reason that he was a cock towards her little mouse.
"So... you and Molly..?" John asked confusedly. An eye roll was his answer.
"I told you I was gay." She said flatly, anger clear in her eyes. He nodded awkwardly.
"Right, well- I thought you were- because I'd said I wasn't..." He stopped himself there, not sure where he was trying to go with it.
"Too bad, you and your detective would be adorable together." She mumbled under her breath, resting her chin in her hand, fingertips tapping on the counter, waiting for Molly to return. All she wanted was to spend time with the woman- was that so much to ask? Apparently so.
Finally, Molly returned to her microscope, leaving Sherlock to his detective work, "S-Sorry about that- what were we talking about..?" Her voice was quiet in her inquiry, timid. Irene's smile found its place back on her face, hand moving to run her fingers through Molly's hair.
"Well, we could return to that conversation, or..." She trailed off, smirking as Molly lifted her head in confusion, adorable little brows furrowed together as she looked to the vixen.
"Or?" Irene swore she was going to die from how adorably innocent Molly was.
"Or, we can move the conversation to a more interesting topic," She schooched her seat closer to Molly's, leaning in to whisper in her ear, "like, say, dinner? You, me, candlelight?" She purred, hand now tracing along Molly's shoulder blade, feeling her shiver under her touch.
"Wait- l-like a da-" "Yes, a date, Love." Molly's cheeks shot as red as Irene's lipstick.
"Y-You want to go on a date with me..?" Molly asked, rather shocked- much to Irene's surprise. She had only been flirting with her for two or three months, now.. what had she thought?
"Yes, I'd like to go out with you." She insisted, heart skipping a beat as a smile graced Molly's face.
"Then, I'd l-love to."