A/N: After The Sign of Three I felt the strong need to write something. A Sherlolly something. And here it is. I don't know how many Chapters this will have, I haven't planned it completely yet. Please excuse my grammar errors - I'm not a native speaker and I haven't had a beta, so please be kind. I hope you enjoy the first chapter!
Boring. Silent. Too silent.
Sherlock Holmes was restless. He paced around the living room in 221B, wearing jimjams and a shiny, dark blue dressing gown. He jumped on the couch and lied down, limbs hanging over the edges. Two weeks. Two weeks had passed since he'd come back and the realization that almost everything had changed during his absence had dawned quickly on him. He was alone again. John had moved out and didn't intend to come back someday. On the contrary, he was about to get married to his new girlfriend. Mary. Sherlock really didn't want to like her, but he had to admit that he did.
It bothered him. Before he met John, he'd never felt lonely. That was because he never knew how it felt like not to be lonely. Now that he knew he did feel lonely. The silence in the flat made him mad and disabled his brain cells. He couldn't think properly. He hated it when that happened. His brain was the only thing he could always rely on. If it didn't work properly, he felt uncomfortable with himself.
Moaning in frustration, he stood up with a fluent move of his legs and picked up his phone from his desk.
Need your help. SH
John replied only seconds later.
Sherlock I know you're just bored. Find yourself a hobby. I'm busy. JW
Sherlock frowned at his text. He felt the strong urge to poke his tongue out at him like a stubborn five-year-old.
Busy with Mary? SH
As much as he liked Mary, he still found the fact that she was around quite annoying. On the other hand, he'd always counted on something like that to happen. Most people seemed to want to find themselves a partner one day. Their want to mate and reproductive instinct was stronger than anything else. Sometimes he wondered if he was a nonconforming product of nature. Although he had to admit that he now felt the need for company more and more often and that he even started to like some people. Maybe he wasn't so extraordinary after all.
Jealous? JW
Sherlock snorted and closed the conversation. There was no way he would give him an answer to this ridiculous and childish question. He thought about it for a few seconds before he opened a new conversation.
Would you like to come over? SH
Molly needed more time to answer, but she still did very quickly.
What do you need? MH
Company. SH
He paced again, while he waited for her to answer.
I'll be there in 20. MH
A small smile crept on his lips as he laid his phone back down. He turned around on one foot and went over to the kitchen to put on a kettle. Maybe he could order some food as well, he thought. He was actually quite hungry, since his brain wasn't working properly anyway. So he ordered some Chinese take-out and placed himself back on the couch, waiting for something to happen.
Molly needed 30 minutes to arrive at Baker Street, but that was no wonder given the evening rush hour traffic. Even if she took the tube, she'd need more time because most carriages would be so crowded that not one human being more would fit in.
"Sherlock. You have a visitor!" Mrs Hudson announced from the staircase, just before Molly stepped in. She looked around in confusion, apparently a bit unsure why exactly she was there. Sherlock jumped up from his lying position on the couch and greeted her with a light kiss on the cheek. It was another new habit of him. He owed Molly so much and she certainly deserved his respect, so he tried to be more kind with her.
Molly blushed slightly, fiddling nervously with the fringe of her colorful scarf.
"So, why am I here again?"
"To talk to me."
Molly raised an eyebrow in confusion and took a deep breath as realization washed over her.
"Ah, I see. John has moved out so you need someone to replace him."
"No. Again, you're not here to replace John but to be yourself. I'm just…" he stopped and thought carefully about his words "I can't think when it is so quiet."
"You feel lonely." Molly said quietly, more to herself than to him. Sherlock pretended to be oblivious to her comment and walked over to the kitchen instead.
"Fancy some tea and Chinese take-out?"
Molly shrugged. "Sure."
She sat down on the chair next to the desk and looked around in the messy living room. Her gaze stopped on his back as he poured in two mugs on the counter. He had changed. His absence had changed him as well as the time he'd spent with John before. Molly remembered very well how odd he used to behave before he met John. He'd been completely unsociable, but now… he even seemed to need people around him. He offered more physical contact and was less rude with his deductions.
Sherlock gave her a small smile when he came back and put the steaming mug down in front of her on the desk.
"So what do you want to do?" she asked.
"I… don't know. I'm not very good with this." he spread his arms to illustrate this.
Molly sighed. The thing was that she had changed too. She had moved on. Sort of. And she'd matured. She'd grown more confident and less shy.
"You just didn't want to be alone, did you?"
Sherlock shrugged and Molly smiled. She nailed it, she knew it. But she was prepared.
"How about a film?"
He stared at her for a few seconds before he nodded. He still felt unable to think properly about anything. His brain felt like frozen mud. So why not watching some stupid film that entertained ordinary people? He could declare it an experiment.
"I have brought one. You do have a DVD player, don't you?"
Ten minutes later, the take-out food had arrived and Molly had put in some new American romantic-comedy that she'd just bought for herself and hadn't watched yet. Friends with benefits - quite an interesting title. Molly was especially interested about how he would react to such a topic.
Sherlock had placed the TV on the small coffee table and they were sitting next to each other on the couch. Molly smiled at the unusual situation but was quite pleased. She honestly enjoyed spending time with him. She wondered how long it would take until he was bored again.
Molly observed him during the whole movie but couldn't find any change in his expression, even during the rather sexual scenes. Sometimes he would comment on some things, saying things like "Obviously." or "What does it feel like to have an ordinary brain like you people?" or "Who would really do something like that?". And she would just smile and shrug. It made no sense to start a discussion with him.
When the film ended, he sat up straight and looked at her. "Well, that was rather predictable. But still more entertaining than I thought it would be. Interesting topic. I never thought about that aspect before. Now I may be able to consider it when an applicable case comes up. Thank you, Molly."
She smiled at him. "Well, yeah, see. Sherlock Holmes can even learn something from Friends with benefits."
"Can't you?"
"Me? What should I learn from it? If you're talking about the part with the sex, I'm well aware that some people like arrangements like that, but it's not really my thing. As we learned from the film, it also doesn't usually end quite well, so that's fine I guess."
Sherlock blinked a few times and looked at her quite stunned. Normally he was able to predict what people would do or say, people were so predictable. But Molly… Molly never ceased to surprise him.
"What about you?" she asked "Friends with benefits?"
He blinked again and considered her question. He usually used to say that sex didn't alarm him, but truth was that he wasn't all that comfortable about the topic either.
"Well, some people have a very strong sexual drive, they just can't help it. It's all chemical…"
"No." Molly interrupted him mid-sentence. "I asked about YOU. Not people in general."
Sherlock shook his head in confusion. His brain was a blur. No wonder that Molly could surprise him like that. She confused him. She had changed. Like everything had changed. But he knew he had to answer her question. It was a pretty ordinary question for a conversation between two adults, he knew that. Maybe he shouldn't be surprised that Molly had no problem to talk about this topic. She probably talked about it every day with her girlfriends.
"I…" he started, but really didn't know what to say, given his rather non-existent experience with sex.
"Sex doesn't alarm me." he said automatically. Molly raised an eyebrow. She'd never seen him so insecure before. But he didn't need long to pick up courage again.
"So?"
"I just never understood what people could possibly like about that intercourse. I never really felt the urge to do it. Most people are victims of their drives and instincts, they let them lead them – a waste of time, if you ask me. There are so much more useful things to do."
"Well, you wouldn't be here if your parents hadn't done it. Neither would I… if my parents hadn't done it. The human race would die out."
"You forget that most people seem to do it for fun most of the time, not to spread their plain and ordinary genes. Which is quite fortunate – in some cases even more than in others."
Molly smiled as a thought came to her mind. Maybe she could tease him a bit for a change.
"What about your genes?"
"Well, they are obviously not ordinary. It'd actually be shame not to spread them. But without an equal partner it makes no sense – no need to waste them and mix them up with the dumbness of another human being."
Molly raised an eyebrow. There he was, the Sherlock Holmes she used to know. Vain and superior. He looked up and met her unbelieving gaze. He tried to read what she was thinking, but he failed. Maybe his brain was still on standby. Or maybe she'd just learned to block him out.
"Not all women are plain and dumb, Sherlock. Your Mum managed to produce you, didn't she?"
"Never said that. But who would ever be good enough? Nah. It's easier to keep them to myself."
Ouch. Molly shook her head, a slightly hurt look on her face. She had moved on. But it still hurt to hear that she wasn't good enough. Nobody ever wanted to hear that they weren't good enough. Especially not from someone they loved. Liked. Liked.
Her hands began to shake slightly, as she tried hard to fight her emotions. She was used to his rudeness. And she wouldn't give in. Not anymore. Sherlock recognized quickly that he'd hurt her. He swallowed and looked down on his lap, one hand rubbing the back of his neck.
"I wasn't talking about you." he said unconvincingly.
"You obviously were. You included everyone. So, me as well. But you know what? I don't care. Not anymore. I've moved on. And I know that I am more than good enough for Tom. I'm not dumb, you know?"
"No, you're not. I'm sorry."
He slapped himself in his mind. He'd screwed up again. Screwed up with the person he'd sworn to himself he wouldn't ever again. What was he thinking? Was he even thinking? Or had the silence of his flat already drove him insane? He felt the sudden urge to touch her. To make sure that she didn't hate him.
"I wasn't thinking, Molly. Will you forgive me? I didn't mean to hurt you."
Molly rolled her eyes and took a deep breath.
"You really think that sentence surprised me? I know you well enough. I've learned to handle your cruel words. I'm not the same, shy woman anymore, you know?"
Sherlock smiled now and nodded. "Yes. You're not the same. Neither am I. Or John. Or anyone."
"But that's a good thing."
"I guess it is. I'm just not very good with… you know, change."
"You're doing quite well so far. You'll get used to the new situation. It's been two years… did you think nothing would have changed?
Sherlock shrugged. I couldn't quite believe that they had this conversation. He wasn't usually one for personal topics, didn't like to talk about himself. Then again, neither did Molly. At least not to him.
Molly was thinking just the same. Normally she wasn't that confident or open-hearted in his presence, but something had changed. Maybe the fact that he, Sherlock Holmes, had texted her because he'd felt lonely. Or maybe it was because she wasn't utterly obsessed with him anymore. Though she didn't like it, he still gave her a tingly feeling in her stomach. When she looked at him, her heart beat faster and a warm feeling spread inside of her. But it was different now, because she'd accepted that she'd never have that kind of relationship with him. Sherlock Holmes didn't do girlfriends and that was okay. She was okay with it. She'd moved on. She had to keep that in mind.
Sherlock didn't answer and Molly didn't expect him to. Sighing, she put out her mobile and looked up the time. 10 pm. Time had gone by fast. Tom had texted her that he was stuck at work and wouldn't come over to her tonight. That had started to happen more and more often during the past month, but Molly wasn't really bothered by it. Sometimes she even enjoyed being on her own in the evening. She would open herself a bottle of wine and cuddle up on her couch, reading a good book or watching telly.
Molly cleared her throat after a few minutes of silence while she stood up from the couch and flattened her clothes.
"It's late. Time for me to go."
She saw in Sherlock's eyes that he didn't want her to go yet, but he nodded.
"Text me if you need company again. Have a good night, Sherlock." She said and leaned down to kiss him on the cheek. Her lips lingered a bit longer on his skin than necessary until she pulled back and smiled at him.
She was almost out of the door when he said: "Goodnight, Molly. Thank you for coming. You are a quite pleasant company." Once again, Molly gave him a smile before she turned around and left the flat.
With a sweeping move Sherlock lied down again and placed his chin on his hands, each of his fingertips touching each other. He closed his eyes and thought about his evening with Molly. He hadn't lied. He'd really enjoyed her company. As his thoughts drifted off, the silence in his flat wasn't so oppressive anymore. A tingly sensation crept into his stomach, a complete new feeling that he'd never felt before. What was it? Sentiment? Probably. He didn't like sentiment. Sentiment was a waste of time, a distraction, a dangerous thing that could destroy a weak human being. But he had to admit that it felt quite good. Maybe some sorts of sentiment weren't so bad at all? No. No, he had to stop it. He couldn't let the feeling take him over. It was tingly and warm and… felt a bit like he was drunk. What was it? Molly Hooper. She wasn't anything special, was she? He liked her and she mattered a great deal to him, she was clever but not genius, pretty but not an Aphrodite. She was a quite ordinary woman and still managed to turn his head. He… he couldn't be in love with her, could he? Sherlock Holmes didn't do love. Was that what love felt like? It was indeed quite pleasant. No wonder people got addicted to it on a daily basis. But not he. He had no time for such a thing. It was a distraction, nothing more. He didn't need this. He had to get rid of it immediately. But then again, it was hard to let something go that felt so good. Even for him. There was an invisible force that seemed to drag him to Molly. Molly Hooper. No. He couldn't be in love with her, could he?
"They were a couple from Cardiff on vacation in London." Lestrade stated looking over the two dead bodies in the king sized hotel bed in front of them.
"Not necessarily a couple. Maybe they were friends with benefits." Sherlock said as he looked around in the room. "Or they had an affair."
John and Lestrade gaped at him as if he was out of his mind.
"What? Some people prefer arrangements like that. Casual sex between friends. Never heard of it?"
"Uhm, we know what 'Friends with benefits' are, Sherlock. Just didn't know you know. You can be quite thick when it comes to that topic." John said, one eyebrow furrowed in surprise.
"Oh, I didn't until yesterday. Molly taught me."
Lestrade's jaw dropped open at this and John's eyes widened in confusion. Had they really understood him right? They changed a few surprised looks before continuing to gape at Sherlock.
"No. Not friends with benefits." Sherlock said eventually, pointing to a wedding ring laying on top of one of the bedside tables. "They had an affair. Both from Cardiff. He was on a business trip in London and brought his affair with him. Perfect opportunity. I'd check out his wife. She was single, so it was probably his jealous wife."
With that, Sherlock left the room and John only shrugged before he followed him out. He caught up with him in the lobby. He just had to ask him about that 'Friends with benefits' thing.
"So what's going on with you and Molly?"
Sherlock stopped in his tracks and stared at his friend. His heartbeat accelerated and the tingly feeling spread once again over his body. It was quite annoying. Even more so if it didn't feel that good.
"Nothing? I don't know what you're talking about."
"Friends with benefits?"
Relieve flushed over his body and he grinned at John's confusion. Sometimes he forgot that he needed to explain almost everything to these ordinary people. He really thought he and Molly… didn't he? It was actually quite amusing.
"Oh! Yes, we watched that film together. Some stupid romantic comedy, very predictable, but admittedly more entertaining than I thought."
John shook his head and laughed in amusement. Had he really thought it would be something else? That Molly hat actually taught him? Sherlock frowned.
"A film. Of course. I really could have come to that conclusion myself."
"What? Do you think I couldn't have a friend with benefits?"
John laughed even harder now. "You? Sorry but that is…" He wasn't even able to finish his sentence because he laughed so hard. Sherlock glared at him. He didn't like it when people made jokes about his sexuality or rather lack of sexuality. Not that he really cared. But he didn't like people laughing at him in general. Then again, who did?
He turned up the collar of his coat, put his hands in his pocket and turned around to leave the hotel in a fast and steady pace. John almost ran to keep up with him.
"Okay, okay. I'm sorry. It's just that… you never talk about things like that. Nobody knows if you… with whom you… you know? I don't even know if you prefer men or women."
Sherlock took a deep breath and kept his pace.
"Why do you people always want to talk about sex and relationships? Why is it even important? Love here, love there. Bloody sentiment. Bloody annoying feelings. They are distracting and unnecessary." Sherlock growled and John gaped at him once more. He was an even bigger mystery to him today than usual.
"Whoa, okay. Calm down. It's not like I'm constantly talking to you about that stuff. Nobody does. And I've once again discovered why."
Sherlock drew another deep breath and glanced at John next to him. He slowed down a bit and ruffled his hair in a frustrated gesture.
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to offend you."
"What's wrong, Sherlock? You're on the edge. You don't relapse, do you?"
"No. No, I'm alright. I'm always alright."
"You don't seem to be alright."
Sherlock stopped walking and leaned his back against a house wall. He sighed and looked up to the grey sky. It was a rainy day, dusty and uncomfortable.
"I might be in love."
John brought out a noise that sounded like a mixture of laughter and 'what'. The situation was way too absurd to be real. He calmed down quickly and stared at his friend in disbelief and confusion, while he tried to be serious.
"You… what? In love? With whom?"
"I feel sick. I can't sleep and I have a warm and tingly and quite annoying sensation in my stomach. What is it then?"
"Sounds like love, yeah." John said "You really don't know, do you?"
"I've never felt like this before. It's annoying. I can't concentrate on anything since I discovered it. Bloody sentiment. How can I get rid of it?"
"Well, I guess you can't. So, who is it, then? Who gives you butterflies?"
Sherlock sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. He considered for a few moments if he really should tell him. Molly's face appeared in his mind, her brown eyes and her cute, small nose. Cute. Where did that word suddenly come from? But she really was nice to look at. Especially when her hair was parted differently than usual - in her own special way - and when she wore that lipstick of hers.
"Sherlock?"
"Hm?"
"Bloody hell, you're really quite besotted, huh?"
Before Sherlock could say anything else, his phone signalized an incoming message.
Are you at home? MH
Sherlock couldn't help but smiling like a moron and frowning at the same time.
Soon. Why? SH
Molly needed only seconds to answer.
Can I come over? MH
Without wanting to he smiled again.
Of course. SH
John watched him suspiciously. Smiling like a moron. Very unusual for him, but fitting quite well into what he'd just told him.
"Who is it?"
"Uh, just Molly."
"Just Molly, huh?" John gave him a knowing look and smiled in disbelief. Sherlock Holmes and Molly Hooper? Unbelievable.
"You know that she's engaged, right? We've met him."
"Of course I know. Why are you telling me this?"
"Oh, just to remind you."
Sherlock frowned at that and shook his head. He didn't feel very comfortable with the way this conversation was going.
"Whatever. I'm heading to Baker Street, Molly needs something."
"Sure. Should I come with you?"
"No, it's fine. You better go spending time with your soon-to-be-wife."
John smirked with a mixture of suspicion and knowledge as he nodded.
"Alright, see you then."
And with that, Sherlock got into the next cab and drove off to Baker Street, leaving a stunned looking John Watson behind.
A/N: So that was the first part of my little something. I hope you liked it! If you found any mistakes, please tell me so I can correct them and learn from them. Until next time! :)