The Power of Voodoo (ficlet)
Title: The Power of Voodoo
Pairing/ Characters: Sherlock, Molly
Rating: PG
Warnings: none
Genre: Crack, fanon meta
Word Count: 350ish
Summary: Sherlock makes an interesting discovery about Molly and uses it to his advantage.
Disclaimer: ACD canon is in the public domain, BBC owns this incarnation, I'm not making a dime.
Because woe_in_a_hoodie has made Sherlock/ David Bowie canon. Unbeta'd.
Sherlock was finished with the microscope and needed to cross-check the blood-borne pathogen database to confirm his findings.
"Molly," he called over to where she was preparing slides of brain tissue. "Would you mind if I used your computer?" John's admonishments for manipulating her had finally sunk in, so he was trying out a tactic of politeness.
"Sure, just let me close something out." She scampered to the computer and he caught sight of some game (Plants vs. Zombies) being minimized to the taskbar.
Her desktop wallpaper was (unsurprisingly) her cat. Wearing a red-and-white striped creeper (and looking none too happy about it). What was the cat's name? Toby. (Why did he know that?) No, surely it was coincidence. Still, it would make Molly infinitely more interesting if it wasn't. And it would explain her initial reaction to the riding crop.
"He reminds me of the babe," he said casually, gesturing to the screen. If he was wrong, she'd dismiss it as one of the multitude of seemingly nonsensical things to come out of his mouth.
She paused, then squeaked, "What babe?"
"The babe with the power." He glanced over at her while the database loaded. Her eyes were as wide as saucers and a blush had risen to her cheeks.
"What power?"
He scanned the subgroups until he found the one he was looking for. "The power of Voodoo."
"Voodoo?" She returned, sounding as though all her dreams had come true.
"You do." He flicked through names until he found the right one.
She made a small, pained noise, and Sherlock had the disturbing thought that it was probably what she sounded like whilst having an orgasm. He hoped she hadn't. Although that would guarantee him unlimited access to the morgue for quite some time, he was sure....
"Do what?"
"Remind me of the babe." Aha, there it was, irrefutable proof Mr. Lowrey had been to Sri Lanka.
Molly looked dazed and starry-eyed. He gave her a smirk and a wink, and swirled away, already texting Lestrade. He'd be up to his eyeballs in, well, eyeballs, if he wanted that many, and oh, the things he could do with that many eyeballs...