A wee little one shot I thought I would try out with one of my favourite ships!
My first Sherlock/ "Sherlolly" fic- let me know what you think! J
"I thought I might find you here," Mycroft's voice broke into Sherlock's thoughts, and Sherlock scowled up at his older brother.
"Of course you would happen to find me while I'm organizing my mind palace." He stood and brushed off his pants, looking disdainfully around the university campus at the hundreds of students milling about like cattle. "What are you doing here?"
"Mummy insisted I check up on you as you failed to call her last week. She also requested that I remind you to eat three meals a day, sleep at least seven hours per night and find yourself a girlfriend."
"A girlfriend?" Sherlock turned up his nose in disgust. "What on earth would I do with one of those? Carry her books about campus? Follow her around like a lost puppy, drooling and doting on her every word? That's an even more ridiculous notion than eating three meals a day. I've explained to her that digesting slows down my thinking abilities."
"Oh Sherlock, you really do miss out on the smaller enjoyments of life you know."
"A woman is hardly worth a moment of my time Mycroft."
"And how would you know? The 20-year-old virgin? But don't worry Sherlock, it's not likely that you could convince even the most desperate woman around here to put up with you." With a snide smirk Mycroft sharply turned and disappeared into the crowd, knowing his younger brother would be incapable of leaving the unspoken challenge alone.
Sherlock sat in the darkness of his dorm room, thinking over Mycroft's words as he prepared to leave for his evening class of Advanced Chemistry. He found the lecture particularly monotonous, as his own grasp of the subject surpassed that of the professor. He had taken to correcting the professor, deducing his classmates, or playing a match of mental chess against himself, but after the professor threatened to kick him out of the course, Sherlock had been forced to refrain from his usual correcting.
As he crossed the large campus, pulling his coat collar up against the damp cold, he decided his next project would be to prove Mycroft wrong. How hard could it be to woo one of the women in his lectures? True, at the beginning of the term he had been flocked by the women, all seemingly impressed with his intellect, though truth be told, and unknowingly to Sherlock they had been more fascinated by his height, beautiful eyes, sharp cheekbones and baritone voice. However when he deduced them aloud, ignored their flirtatious smiles, or snorted at their poor attempts to complete projects in the chemistry lab, their attentions had soon ceased. Most students were required to work with a lab partner, but after Sherlock had left most of them in tears or boiling in anger, the professor had allowed Sherlock to work alone.
Placing himself in the very back row of the lecture hall, Sherlock began his observing. Most of the women in his class were obviously attached to another. Two were sleeping with the blonde idiot who had almost punched Sherlock when they were lab partners, another was obnoxiously displaying her new engagement ring that Sherlock deduced to be a fake diamond, another was shifting in her seat in such a manner that Sherlock guessed her to have an STI. That left one woman in the class that had for the most part only been a minor blip on his radar up until this point.
She always sat in the front row, eagerly answered questions in a halting, shy manner, though she was clearly the most intelligent one in the class beside himself. Her clothes were rather atrocious, though her hair, which she currently wore down, was a thick and shiny auburn. He always had felt rather partial to auburn coloured hair. He thought her name might start with an M, though he was not certain.
The lecture began and of course when the professor asked a question, she eagerly answered correctly, though Sherlock noticed her shoulders tighten when STI girl snickered and muttered something that she obviously heard, though Sherlock was too far away to make it out. Did the class commonly bully her? Why had he not thought this relevant to notice until now?
Halfway through their lecture they had their usual break, and rather than remain in his seat, Sherlock made his way down the steps, using his long stride to catch up to the cluster of people filing through the door and heard STI woman mock his woman of interest.
"Honestly Molly, are you that desperate for male attention that you have to answer every question just to get Wright to look at you?"
"Molly, Molly…think, think, think- Molly Hooper, got it."
"I'm not going to fight with you Sarah."
"Why not little mouse? Afraid you might get hurt?" A few bystanders of the class snickered, and Sherlock made his move and came to stand next to Molly, clearly shocking them, their expressions becoming almost nervous.
"The only thing I would be concerned about right now is your increasingly serious condition of genital herpes. Perhaps if you spent more time spreading your mind rather than your legs you wouldn't have such a messy little problem to deal with." As shocked silence fell over the group, Sherlock turned his attention to Molly and gently grasped her sweater and tugged her along beside him in the direction of the small coffee pub down the hall.
"Tea Molly Hooper?" She was staring up at him in shock, brown eyes wide and she mutely nodded, accepted the tea he bought her, and then followed him back to the classroom after he tugged on her sleeve again. She did not speak when he decidedly sat next to her for the remainder of the lecture, nor when he ushered her from the classroom and then promptly disappeared down another corridor after giving her what she guessed was his attempt at a smile.
The following morning the class had their Advanced Chemistry lab and Molly had taken particular care while arranging her hair and makeup this morning, and had worn her most fashionable red blouse. Walking into the lab, she was pleasantly surprised when her usual tormentors remained silent, and her usual lab partner greeted her with a tentative nod rather than his usual sexual innuendo. Had receiving attention from the notorious Sherlock created such a dramatic change? She was not too proud to admit to herself that she had taken such particular care with her appearance this morning should Sherlock approach her again. For months she had watched him in the lab, or listened with rapt attention when he spoke in the Chemistry lecture, but never once had his attention been on her. She had worked herself into a hopeful, nervous state by the time the Professor had told them to begin their latest project, and she was disappointed that Sherlock appeared to be skipping. She turned her attention to her work, as Archie began his usual staring off into space when a deep baritone voice sounded behind them, making her jump.
"Archie, I will be working with Molly today. I would suggest you go and check on the two women you're sleeping with, as they're partners today and currently having a lovely little girl chat about the man they're seeing. Despite their limited brain power, it shouldn't take them too long to figure out both of them are referring to you."
Molly watched, mouth open as Archie paled, leapt off his stool and made his way over to where two blondes were beginning to argue. She turned her attention back to the young man who was standing so close to her it bordered on socially awkward, his blue-green eyes scanning her face seriously, hands clasped behind his back. "Hi?"
"Sherlock Holmes, I never did introduce myself last night."
"I know who you are. You always gave Professor Wright a run for his money." Molly felt her cheeks begin to burn as he continued to stare down at her. "I thought you didn't work with a partner?"
"Most are too stupid to handle," His gaze cut over to her beakers. "I can see however that you are competent enough. Please continue." He sat down on the stool next to her with a flourish, removing his heavy coat and revealing a purple dress shirt so tight his buttons were straining at the seams. "Blast. Of course he's wearing a purple shirt."
"Purple is your favourite colour." He voiced it as a statement, not a question.
"Y-yes." Molly felt her face flame again. "How did you guess?"
"I did not guess. Your scarf is purple, as are your mittens, pencil case and binder and you have been staring at my shirt for an unusual period of time."
"Right."
Sherlock silently sat on the stool next to her and began to mix the liquids together to prepare for the next step of the lab, clearly not bothered by the silence or Molly's nervous energy.
"You don't usually wear shirts like this." He spoke again looking pointedly at her blouse. "It first belonged to an older sister did it not?" He raised a brow when her mouth dropped open again.
"How would you know that?"
"You are a youngest child, your shirt is comfortably worn as displayed by the beginning of the collars fraying condition, suggesting a previous owner with expensive taste as I saw by the tag it is a designer brand. I guess an over bearing older sister who is not as intelligent as you, and rather than using her mind in educational endeavors turns her interests into areas of fashion. Most of your clothing choices normally appear to be designed for warmth comfort or kept from a sense of nostalgia rather than a concern for maintaining the latest styles."
"My sister gives me her old clothes sometimes." At this point Molly wasn't sure if the butterflies still dancing in her stomach were from attraction or a sense of horror that this strange man seemed to be able to figure out so much about her from a single glance.
The rest of their lab continued in this strange manner; they worked in silence, and worked in harmony with one another, the silence only broken by Sherlock making other correct deductions about her.
This continued on for about a month, Molly eventually becoming comfortable enough around Sherlock to chatter away at him, though she knew sometimes he was too busy making his own deductions to be paying attention to what she was saying. It was some of the happiest times of her life- her classmates no longer bullied her, clearly afraid of what Sherlock might do to humiliate them, or what he might reveal, she had an intelligent study partner, and she was being paid attention to by a rather fit, though strange bloke. She was hopelessly infatuated with Sherlock, and though she occasionally caught him staring at her mouth, he made no moves on her.
Sherlock nodded his head as Molly chatted animatedly about some film she had watched the night before, pretending to listen, though he was in reality assessing how to best kiss her. Molly Hooper had been a surprise to him. A strange bundle of overwhelming kindness and loyalty with a rather morbid sense of humour that even made him let out a laugh once in a while. He had carefully measured out the pros and cons of turning their friendship into something more. She was after all, his first friend, and he was slightly concerned, and admittedly surprised at his own concern about losing his first friend, however her habit of touching him, the raising in pitch of her voice when she saw him and the dilation of her pupils suggested she was open to a romantic relationship.
It was a rather manipulative text from Mycroft that set Sherlock in action. At this time Mycroft was working for the British government, and was using his new found power to of course spy on his younger brother. He had observed Sherlock for weeks now, and had conducted a full background check on Molly Hooper and rather liked her. However after two months of waiting for Sherlock to get his act together, Mycroft moved on to stage two of "Project find Sherlock a bird."
Having been informed that Sherlock and Miss Hooper were studying in the library, he made his way into the building and after introducing himself had proceeded to flatter and charm smiles out of Molly, and murderous scowls out of Sherlock.
"Oh look at the time, you'd better head off now Mycroft, wouldn't want you to miss your afternoon habit of cake." Sherlock stood and walked towards the entrance of the library, clearly expecting Mycroft to follow.
"Miss Hooper, it has been a pleasure. I do expect we shall be seeing each other again soon." He left a happy Molly and met a scowling Sherlock at the door. "Whatever is the matter Sherlock? Don't you want me to meet your friends? Good of you to actually make one, especially a rather pretty one."
"Molly Hooper is off limits Mycroft."
"Oh? Why would she be off limits?"
"Because she's my lab partner!" Ignoring Mycrofts smirk, Sherlock turned and made his way back into the library where he found Molly packing up her bag and pulling her jacket on.
"I think I'm going to head back to my room, feeling a bit famished after all of that studying and you mentioning cake." She laughed at herself and turned to ask Sherlock if he wanted to grab food with her when he was suddenly invading her space, intently staring at her mouth and then his hands were gently grasping each side of her head and his lips were pressing against her own. His lips were very warm and soft, and Molly thought she may have died and gone to heaven. Their kiss was inexperienced, somewhat clumsy and absolutely perfect. When they broke apart Molly was pleased to notice through her daze that his cheeks were red.
"For future reference, please refrain from wearing that kind of lip-gloss. Your lips look better without it and I don't like the sticky texture." He gave her a half smile and after using his thumb to wipe off her gloss, pulled her hood up over her head to shield her from the rain, knowing she would have to walk across the courtyard to return to her room. "Following an examination of your unconscious signals to me that you are interested in pursuing a romantic relationship, I have deemed that this is an agreeable decision. As per custom I shall now go and find you an appropriate box of chocolates to celebrate the milestone of our first kiss."
He nodded once as if pleased with his own speech, kissed Molly briefly on the lips again and quickly walked away, leaving Molly smiling like a fool, and Mycroft grinning in a nearby parked car, as he spied on them through a pair of binoculars.
Should I also add that I am equally as into the idea of Louise Brealey and Benedict Cumberbatch being together as I am Sherlock and Molly? Go and stalk Loo Brealey's twitter- she is an absolute joy. I like to pretend she and I are BFFs…
