This was written for the Sherlolly Fic Exchange 2017 over on AO3 for katfevre.

Prompt: Sherlock and Molly at university. They keep running into each other in the library: looking for books in the same section, hiding/studying in the same secret corners. Small polite exchanges develop into longer conversations, which develop into a friendship and eventually into a snogging session in the book stacks.


Molly Hooper was a scholarship student. The only reason she was able to attend the "Doyle School for the Gifted" was her brilliant test scores. That and the abnormal love she had for anatomy at the age of 11 which had intrigued the school board and admissions staff. She had been accepted into the school at age 12 and had been going there for 5 years now. As a senior, Molly Hooper would be expected to complete a final (and impressive) research project before heading off to university. Most Doyle students could choose to go to whatever university they wanted. Molly, however, knew that her family would struggle to fund her future academic ventures and knew that she had to make this last year at Doyle count. In order to do this, Molly found herself studying in the library every day for many long hours.

William "Sherlock" Holmes was from a so called "legacy family" at Doyle. His older brother, Mycroft, had attended the school. As had his mother. His mother's father had gone to Doyle and his father before him. The Holmes had always been students at Doyle ever since its conception. It was expected that Sherlock would not be the last Holmes to attend Doyle School. Of course, that was the opinion of the school and of the Holmes parents and ancestry. The opinion of Mycroft and Sherlock Holmes was, in fact, that they would be the last two Holmes to attend Doyle. Mycroft was not inclined to procreate anytime soon due to his extreme lack of interest in women and his abundant appreciation for the male form. Sherlock had proclaimed on more than one occasion that he found everyone, no matter their sex, far too dull to even be bothered with and that he had no intention of ever tying himself to one of them permanently. Sherlock preferred to throw himself into the quest for knowledge, useful knowledge. During his senior year at Doyle, unlike most of the teenage boys running rampant on the property, he'd spend most of his time cooped up in the dusty old library.


Doyle School for the Gifted was attended by students of all sorts. The one thing they all had in common was that they all were "gifted" in some way. Not all were the blatantly intelligent like the Holmes brothers or even Molly Hooper. Many were intelligent in certain areas, but some simply had impressive talent. Doyle employed staff of all sorts to meet every need of their students. Even their stranger needs would be met. Molly's own small circle of friends displayed this. Molly herself did as well.

She had a therapy cat. His name was Toby. He had been a gift from her father and was the only thing that helped calm her down after a bout of her social anxiety. She was allowed to keep him in her dorm room. There were vets available to her in case he ever needed anything. If needed, she was even granted permission to carry him with her to her classes.

Then there was James Moriarty. Molly was friends with him, or at least she was friends with parts of him. She was friends with what they (their little group of friends) kind heartedly referred to as "techie Jim", "gay Jim", and "shy Jim". There were probably a few other "Jims" she got along with, but those three were what she deemed Jim's best. Jim Moriarty had a personality disorder. A multiple personality disorder aka dissociative identity disorder. Despite this apparent "setback" to Jim's learning, he'd instantly been accepted to Doyle. Jim was beyond clever. Somehow, Doyle had gotten ahold of expert therapist and counselors to work with the Moriarty boy and attempt to help him when his darker personalities came out to play. Occasionally, they were unsuccessful and James would attempt arson or suicide, but they always found him before anything went too far.

Then there was Sebastian Moran. He was Jim's right hand man. Sebastian would stay by Jim's side through all the personalities. (Molly had noted more than once that "gay Jim" was the most likely to willing and excitedly stick to Sebastian side.) He himself had a few anger issues and had been called a sadist more than once. He'd been accepted to Doyle at 16, far later than most. He'd already been sued twice when caught hunting on private property. Doyle didn't mind the criminal record.

Of course, there were also Meena and Mike who didn't seem to have special needs of any kind.

Molly was content with her small and odd group of friends. She had no interest in pursuing new ones. The mere thought made her skin crawl.


Sherlock Holmes had no need for people. He had no friends. Well, he had one friend at Doyle. John Watson had somehow wormed his way into Sherlock's nonexistent social circle. He had easily grabbed the title of "best friend".


A blur of black and purple rushed into the Doyle library. It was Sherlock Holmes. His sharp, pale features were an extreme contrast from his dark hair. Already there, in a quiet and dusty corner, was Molly Hooper.

Sherlock took a seat at the opposite side of the large library from Molly. The two did not even notice each other's presence.

The librarian at the Doyle School, a lovely older woman with a spunky attitude by the name of Martha Hudson, knew both Molly and Sherlock very well. She had not been fond of the previous Holmes students, but she thought Sherlock was an absolute dear. She had declared Molly Hooper to be "as sweet as pie" the first time they had met and her opinion of the girl had lasted. When the old grandfather clock in the library rang out that it was already midnight, collected her things and left the library, locking the doors behind her. All the students had been gone for hours. Well, all the students but two, Molly Hooper and Sherlock Holmes. Neither student reacted as left for the night. They had both gone through this before.


At around 2am, Molly Hooper stretched out her arms, rolling her sore shoulders. She had sat here looking over these endless documents for hours. None of it even seemed to be helpful to her research. She got up and wandered the stacks, knowing that it always helped her think. As she passed the shelves she would occasionally stop and pull out a book she thought might possibly help her project until she reached her destination. She already had five books in her hands, but knew that she must fit one more. Trying not to drop her selected tomes, she reached up, stretching her short body, and barely grasped her fingers around the desired item. A play. A Shakespearean play. Today it would be Much Ado About Nothing . Last night it had been Romeo and Juliet . Tomorrow night it might be -

Molly stopped. It was missing. Richard III was missing. Molly knew she had put it back after she'd pulled it a couple weeks ago. No one else came into the Shakespeare section. No one. At least, she didn't think so. She had never seen anyone other than her there before.

Molly turned around, her brain preoccupied with what had happened to Richard III , and instantly knocked into something very solid. Something that should not have been there. Something that was actually a someone.

"Holy fucking hell," Molly shouted. Her breath coming in gasps as she stared shocked at the other body. The body she was sure had no business being here at 2:30 in the morning. "You scared me half to death," she accused him. The library was only dimly lit at this hour but she could still recognize her companion. Sherlock Holmes. Sherlock freaking Holmes.

He eyed her. "I didn't realize you were here. The library is closed after all."

Molly started turning red from anger (but perhaps also a bit from embarrassment. She had shouted so crudely and all her books had fell from her arms onto the ground. It made her look careless and as much as he was a prat, Sherlock Holmes was a gorgeous and frightfully intelligent prat.) She stumbled over her words as she begin, "I have, I mean, she gave me special permission to be here after hours. Not just today. I'm here every night. She gave me a key. It was only because I explained that I needed the extra time and resources for my research. I don't sleep anyway. She verified my insomnia with the nurse and-" Molly closed her mouth realizing she had already said too much. She was rambling. She didn't want to ramble in front of Sherlock Holmes! Well, at least Jim had said her rambling was cute. Maybe Sherlock would think so too. Who was she kidding? Of course he wouldn't. Wait, that's right. Sherlock was here. What was he doing here? "What are you doing here so late - er, early?"

Sherlock stepped past her. She had not noticed the book he carried in his hand, but he slipped it back on the shelf. " has let me stay here as long as I please since I was thirteen. I can assure you that I as well am here almost every night."

Sherlock the turned away from her and walked out into the depths of the library, disappearing within the shelves.

"Huh," Molly sighed. She collected her books from the floor and the turned back to the Shakespeare shelf. Richard III had returned to its rightful place. "Huh," she repeated to herself.


The next day, Molly scoped out where Sherlock sat in the library. He spent much of his free time during the day there, just as she did. She only wasted a few hours finding his preferred spot.

That night, when left, Molly collected her belongings and moved across the library to where Sherlock sat. She quietly placed her things down on the table next to Sherlock and sat.

He didn't startle, but raised one perfect eyebrow at her. "What are you doing? You can't sit with me."

Molly smiled. "I just thought it might be nice if we spent the night together. Um, the nights here. Studying." She was already flustered.

Sherlock rolled his eyes. "Well, you were wrong. It will not be 'nice'."

Molly was not about to give up.

Their first few nights together (studying! Only studying!) were filled with poor jokes on Molly's side and contempt from Sherlock. Eventually, however, he would start to smile just a bit when she laughed at something delightfully morbid. He also began showing her his research on bees. She was instantly enthralled. He found that she made

a good research partner. Molly was more than willing to help out anyway she could. Sherlock even found himself interested in her own work on human tissue. Dead human tissue.

The days turned into weeks turned into months. Then, one night they were both there. Molly had left earlier but come back around 3am, never wanting to miss a night with Sherlock. She had gone to attend the Christmas party that Jim was secretly hosted in the dorms. She knew Sherlock wouldn't come but had silently hoped that perhaps he would show up. She knew she looked nice. Her hair done up and her makeup a brilliant shade of red. So, when she went to see Sherlock she left herself done up. Hoping to evoke a reaction.

She did.

Sherlock found himself looking at her again and again that night. He wanted to kiss her. He'd never wanted to kiss anyone before. But Molly, Molly Hooper.

It'd just be an experiment. Sherlock said that to himself over and over. It'd just be for science's sake.

So he kissed her.

Her lips were soft. She tasted like mint and ginger. It was positively brilliant. She was positively brilliant. Molly sighed into the kiss. This. This is what she had wanted. He was what she had wanted. Needed really.

Sherlock would never admit it, but he needed her too.

And since experiments always should have more than one trial, he kissed her again.


I'm not exactly sure how Jim and Seb ended up in here as Molly's friends. I'm not completely sure where John is either.
However! I find myself very intrigued by the universe of this school for the gifted I've created so I think I may return to dabble in it again soon.

Side note: Richard III was chosen because Benedict Cumberbatch is excellent in it! If you ever get a chance to watch The Hollow Crown: The Wars of the Roses WATCH IT!

Thanks for reading! Please leave a review or favorite or follow!