The Couple
The first thing Sherlock does when he arrives at her apartment is take off her brother's old hoodie and cap. The second and last thing Sherlock does is plonk himself in her recliner.
For the first couple hours Molly doesn't realize that Sherlock isn't actually sitting in her living room. Well, not exactly. He is physically sitting on her furniture but mentally he is somewhere far away from her apartment and the rest of the world. His eyes are closed and his finger tips are pressed together in front of his mouth, almost like he is praying which Molly finds a bit funny because she can't ever picture him sitting in a church quietly. Unless maybe the church was a crime scene.
She feels painfully small and insignificant despite knowing that only a few hours ago she helped pull off one of the greatest deceptions in history. She tries to sit down but she can't stop fidgeting or summon the courage to speak out loud. The air feels heavy and her throat is inexplicably dry, she recognizes this atmosphere as the same one that invaded her lab whenever Sherlock was around. Instead, she busies herself by finishing up some lab reports and making toasties for the both of them. Sherlock just sits while she types.
She isn't offended when later that night as she prepares for bed, she notices he hasn't touched his dinner. She thinks that if she had just died the last thing she would want to do was eat too.
It is Sunday morning and although Molly feels a little guilty (she has been feeling this way a lot lately) she jumps at the opportunity to get out of her apartment and away from the thick atmosphere. She fills her lungs with the cold London breeze as she walks down the street.
Barts is strangely quiet this morning.
She waves at Simon, one of the cleaners, as she walks through the back entrance and straight to the elevators. Simon is a sweet and gentle old man. Sometimes Molly imagines he is like the janitors in movies who turn out to be hiding a secret life of where they were Soviet scientists.
She decides she will take the fire exit door on the way out instead of going through the lobby. She also makes a mental note to ask Sherlock what he thinks of Simon when she gets back.
She bites her lip when she finds herself stuck in an elevator with Sandra, one of the lab techies. Hesitatingly, she presses the button for the rooftop, aware of her friend's worried gaze. Molly likes Sandra but she feels incredibly guilty because of all the pity she is receiving from everyone regarding Sherlock's death.
Sandra squeezes Molly's hand before she gets off.
The wind a top of Barts causes Molly's hair to whip and lash around her face. Her eyes start to water from the sting of the cold air. Out of curiosity, she peers over the edge and onto the street where they found Sherlock's body. She shivers, it is a long way down to the ground.
She wraps her coat tightly around herself and begins searching for Sherlock's phone.
She decides that the police must have swept the entire area clean because despite what Sherlock said all she finds is a blood stain.
"Are you sure the police didn't pick up?"
"Yes, I hacked their computer system. They've reported everything from the crime scene except my phone."
Sherlock says nothing for the rest of the day.
She comes home from work early on Monday and finds a ripped envelope discarded just inside her front door. How strange, Molly thinks. The mailman always puts letters in her box on the first floor, she has never received anything to her door before. The address matches her flat but the name is unfamiliar. She has received letters intended for previous tenants before but she has never for an Mr. G. Norton.
When she enters the living room Sherlock is packing his duffle bag with the few items he brought with him. Molly's eyes find his iPhone sitting on the corner of the coffee table. She points and asks, "Did that come in the mail today?"
"Yes."
Sherlock doesn't even look at her when he responds but grabs a stack of crinkled paper that he had written the night before and puts it his bag. Suddenly, Molly hears a woman moan.
She blushes instantly, " I-i-it wasn-" "I know."
Sherlock zips up the duffle bag and grabs his iPhone off the table. Molly swears the tiny smirk that graces his features as he unlocks his phone is the happiest she has seen Sherlock since the trial against Moriarity.
He puts his phone into his pocket and looks up at her, his smirk fades. He walks up to her and places his hands on her shoulders, "Molly, thank you." His hands slip down her arms to hold hers as he leans in and kisses her on the cheek. Her fingers are still freezing from outside and she worries that he will pull away, he doesn't.
" You will be the first person John and I invite to Baker Street after I return."
He leaves her with a rare smile.
The left side of her face feels all tingly as she tries to fight her increasing blush.
She hasn't heard from Sherlock except for texts asking if there were any inquiries into his death. There were none. The police had briefly investigated Moriarity's body but then quickly concluded that it was also a suicide. Twice Detective Lestrade had 'unofficially' visited her and asked about Sherlock's body. Both times Molly was able to deflect his questions and the last time, when he sighed, she saw all his hope leave him.
It has been a couple months and the great fraud known as Sherlock Holmes has faded from the public's memory.
On a few occasions, Molly has visited his grave. She knows it is a bit silly but she leaves flowers anyways. While she figures there is no point in praying for his soul she might as well pray for his resurrection.
In the distance she sees John coming and she walks as quickly as she can in the opposite direction. If there is one person's pity she cannot handle it is his.
Molly's love for Coventry has only grown since moving to London. She tries to come down at least once a month to visit her mother but this time she is helping her brother move back. She booked Monday off so she can stay longer and help her brother organize his new flat. A part of her is a bit jealous because as much as she loves working at Barts she can't help but miss home, especially during the holidays.
She hums happily to herself as she admires all the decorations along the road. There is a fresh layer of powder snow from last night and Molly can only think that it is going to be an especially beautiful Christmas this year. She decides she will take a more scenic route through the mall to her brother's flat, he won't mind waiting a little longer.
The mall is bright and warm and full of people eager to buy their last minute gifts. She smiles at all the families walking with strollers and the children buzzing around. She laughs as she watches kids dragging their parents to shop windows and drooling at all the toys on display. She sees couples, young and old, holding hands and all bundled up in woolly scarves and jackets; she thinks that this moment in time couldn't be more beautiful.
She gives into her festive cravings and decides to grab a small hot chocolate for the rest of her walk. She continues to watch people as she waits in line at the café. She spots two teenagers awkwardly walking together and she suspects that their rosy cheeks are not from the winter air. Out of the corner of her eye she spots an older couple. A woman and man walking briskly side by side.
On first glance they look like a pair of older students with their jeans and ski jackets and the man's navy backpack. However, something is incredibly familiar about the man's gait and manner. Every stride he takes is purposeful and almost calculated. If it wasn't for the copper hair she would say he reminded her of Sherlock.
"Mam, would you like to order somethin'? " The young girl at the register wakes Molly from her thoughts. She takes another glance back at the couple and leaves the café before she can second guess herself. She is careful to keep her distance as she follows them.
The woman, she notices, has dark wavy hair that reaches past her shoulder blades. Her walk is just as precise as her male counterpart's. Molly notices that while they don't hold hands, they still walk closely together with their elbows almost brushing. She tags behind a group of university students all while keeping her eye trained on the couple.
A smile tugs at her lips, there is no way this man can be Sherlock. Even in her imagination the detective would never wear a backpack or a pair of jeans. Yet something nags at Molly and she can't just turn around and leave them be. The man keeps glancing back and while Molly is sure he hasn't noticed her following them she still tugs her beanie down to cover her forehead.
She sort of feels like a spy. Molly wonders if this is what it's like hunting down criminals and solving mysteries with Sherlock and John. She subtly pretends to stop at a kiosk and look at cell phone covers meanwhile keeping one eye on the couple.
She notices the entire time they haven't said one word to each other.
All of sudden they stop and Molly watches curiously as the woman takes the man's backpack and begins rummaging through it. Evidently the man is just as confused as Molly as he focuses completely on the woman. Molly nearly wants to take a picture because the man's profile is almost exactly like Sherlock's.
All of sudden she hears a commotion behind her. Everyone near her turns around and sees a man in business suit followed by two security guards dashing straight at her. She freezes not knowing what do. What if they saw her on the CCTV following the man and the woman? Could they arrest her for that?
She starts to walk backwards as the men continue to rush towards her. She holds her breathe and anxiously clenches her fists. One of the bodyguards grabs her by the shoulder and roughly pushes her away. She hears him mutter an apology as the group run straight past her. Her breath catches as she realizes who they are really looking for. Her eyes start scanning the now crowded space for a glimpse of the couple. She sees the backpack crumpled behind a bin like it had been tossed there.
She starts sliding past people who are still staring at the curious envoy of the security guards and an very angry looking businessman. The crowd slowly starts to dispense having had their share of watching three grown men run around a shopping mall frantically. Molly has completely lost track of the search party while scanning the crowd for the couple.
She makes her way towards the centre of the mall where a grand Christmas tree has been erected. Molly nearly runs into the back of one of the guards before she hears the businessmen groan in frustration. The group turn around and the young looking guard, the one who pushed her earlier, nearly bumps into her again. He smiles shyly and tips his hat at her, "Sorry about that earlier Miss.". She is barely aware of her head nodding because immediately she sees the couple only a few steps away.
She imagines that she wouldn't be the only person to be utterly frozen at the sight of Sherlock Holmes alive and breathing right now. Well, 'breathing' is a bit of stretch as his mouth is currently engaged in a searing kiss with his mysterious companion. They're both so focused on each other it's as if the world around them doesn't exist.
They look like they are from a holiday movie with colours reflecting off the Christmas tree behind them and surrounding them in a warm glow. Molly guesses that to anyone else, without knowing that the man is in fact the extraordinary Sherlock Holmes (and a woman she suspects as equally amazing), that they would look just like an normal couple.
Molly tears her eyes from the faces long enough to spot stuffed envelopes peeking out the top of the woman's pockets. She glances behind and sees the security guards are long gone.
Sherlock moans softly and Molly nearly gets whiplash as her head turns to face them again. His eyes are still tightly shut but he tugs the woman closer and continues kissing her. Once more Molly is frozen. She knows she should probably leave before Sherlock sees her standing right next to them while he is on his mission impossible (or at least suppose to be) but she can't move. She has never seen Sherlock like this before and she has an aching feeling that she won't again.
The woman's eyes briefly open as if she can sense that someone is gaping at them only a few feet away. They lock eyes for only second before the mysterious woman winks at her. Her eyes flutter to a close as she runs both her hands through his hair and deepens the kiss.
Molly pulls her beanie down, turns around and briskly walks away.
As she unpacks boxes at her brother's flat she thinks about a few things; the envelopes tucked inside the woman's coat, the woman's identity (Molly swears she has seen those red manicured nails before), the kiss, and Sherlock's hair.
She thinks he looks quite good with red hair.
Molly were you in Coventry last week?
-SH
Never been. Is it nice?