Hi absolutely love your writing. How about Sherlock's and Molly's daughter goes out on a first date when she's finally allowed to.
I’m combining this with an anonymous prompt which was “Sherlock attending to Molly’s late night pregnancy cravings” because my brain works that way. I’m also going to ask that people stop sending in parent!lock prompts. I love parent!lock, always will, but I’m taking a break from it for now.
---
“Okay, I’ve got this really stupid joke...” David chuckles to himself, bites at his lip and Poppy Holmes knows that her date is an utter dork. She takes a sip of her drink and delicately flicks her hair over her shoulder.
“Go on then,” she says, tucking her hands underneath her chin. “Tell it.”
“It’s more of a phrase really. Just wanna see if I can get it right -- um -- oh yeah -- ‘I want to live in a world where a chicken can -- uh -- cross a road without having its motives questioned.’”
Poppy snorts a laugh, and David grins. He’s a college friend, and this is more drinks (and maybe a meal if they can keep up the conversation) than an actual date, a ‘let’s see how this goes’ feeler sort of thing because she’s eighteen, she’s almost an adult for Christ’s sake, she can do want she wishes.
Then a figure passes by the restaurant window, their dark coat still visible against the winter evening, and Poppy swallows the urge to scowl. Instead, she aims a sweet smile at David.
“Shame chickens get questioned so much, isn’t it? World would be a better place if they didn’t.”
David nods. “And it’s always the poultry that get questioned. Not cows, or -- or -- or dogs. Why is that?”
She can’t help but laugh again as she shrugs. “No idea. Maybe it all stems from that ‘headless chicken’ idea?”
Her laughter, and her smile, fades when the same figure passes by the window. It pauses, tilts its head and hurries on. This time, she cannot hide her scowl.
“Poppy?” she hears David ask, “everything -- okay?”
“Fine,” she says quickly, though she doesn’t look at him. Instead, she grabs her jacket and her purse and storms from the restaurant, throwing a “back in a sec” over her shoulder.
---
She grabs at her father’s arm with all the strength she has and whirls him around and he stares at her, blinking.
“Poppy.”
He has the gall to look surprised. She nods, tucking her hands against her hips, and glares at him.
“I’m 18. Not 13 -- not 14. Eighteen. Honestly! How many times do I have to tell you this -- I don’t need you to check up on me! I’m capable of looking after myself!” Then she sees the shopping bag in his hands, and that makes her pause. She steps forward. “You’ve got -- curry in there.”
“It’s for me.”
He hates curry. He’s terrible with spices. That’s something her mother takes great glee in.
Her father sighs and ruffles at his greying hair. Words, mumbled and unclear, trip out from his mouth. She blinks.
“What?”
“Your mother---” He puffs out a breath. “She’s -- pregnant. Again.”
“What?! I’m going -- wow! I mean, I did think something was going on, because you know, she’s always wearing baggy clothes and everything and to be honest I should’ve guessed---”
Her father can’t hide his grin. “Yes, yes. We were going to tell you sooner, but things got in the way. Now go and enjoy your date.”
“I will, don’t worry.” She ducks forward and kisses her father on the cheek. “And you look after Mum. See you later.”
“Mm -- By the way, Poppy -- you did know David’s already got a girlfriend? Easy to spot by his exaggerated nerves.”
