A/N: Hello, I am completely new here. This is my first time writing a Sherlock fic. I hope you all like it.
He wanted her.
The thought came unbidden to John Watson, as he covertly watched Sherlock and Molly engrossed in a heated discussion over Molly Hooper's latest patient.
Sherlock Holmes wanted Molly Hooper. Desperately so.
It wasn't exactly obvious to anyone who looked at them except to those who paid close attention, observed. And for the longest of time John Watson had not done that- observe.
If he had, this revelation would not have come to him so late. Because when one did look, it was obvious as hell.
The way Sherlock looked at Molly, the way he would always find a way to touch her -someone who found human contact distasteful- and yet there he was, brushing his arms against Molly's at the pretence of taking a plate from her, tucking her hair behind her ear with his hand s so as not to interfere with her work.
And then, there were the kiss on her cheeks. The first time he had kissed her, it had been an act of apology but what about all the kisses after that? There had been many, for Sherlock had taken to kissing her as a way of greeting and bidding good bye every time they met- much to the amazement of John, Molly and everyone involved. To think John had still been unable to make the connection.
Sherlock's cruel deductions of her boyfriend, his volatile mood whenever Molly was involved with anyone, not to mention the close attention Sherlock paid to Molly's body parts.
The detective and the pathologist's relationship had changed considerably since his return and it was quite funny the way Sherlock would always find himself in a foot in mouth situation around Molly. But how many people had the power to make Sherlock act like a stammering idiot, to make him apologize, humbles him?
Only one.
Molly Hooper.
John's head swarmed with the new found revelations and what to do with it.
Because if he doesn't, the bloody git sure as hell wouldn't.
He walked out of the lab, desperately trying to come up with a plan- leaving the two love struck idiot in the lab.
"Sherlock, look at this-,"Molly raise her head from her file to beckon Sherlock to her, only to find him standing behind her, very close.
"Yes, Molly?" He asked, casually resting both of his arms on either side of her on the table and pretending not to have noticed the way she trailed of mid sentence.
Molly turned her attention back to her paper, determined not to let him see the pink shade of her cheek, lest he assumed it to be the effect of his closeness.
It was, of course, exactly that. But Sherlock didn't need to know, did he? He had already enough ammunition on the prospect of her feelings to use against her; he didn't need any more to add to his list. Molly had been very careful to not let Sherlock affect her- more like not allow him to notice the affect he has on her- he came back and she was going to make it stay that way.
Even if Sherlock continues to behave oddly, like now.
And he was, behaving oddly today- correction-, for the past months.
She had no idea what had changed, but all Molly knew was he was always there after her engagement broke. The more she tried to forget his presence, the more he seemed to demand her attention. Following her everywhere she went, inflicting his presence on her house and on her bed whenever he pleased.
There were many nights when she would come home and find him sleeping on her bed instead of the spare bedroom- on those occasions, Molly would sight resignedly and chose to spend the night herself in the spare bedroom instead.
But there were also nights when she would wake up to find Sherlock Holmes sleeping soundly beside her, creeping in her bed on the night without her knowledge.
Sherlock's voice broke Molly out of her reverie, and she was startled to realize that he had moved even closer, his chest now pressed to her back and was literally breathing in her year.
"Molly," Her name was like a caress from his tongue and Molly involuntarily closed her eyes, "You still have not shown me."
"What?"She had lost trail of what they were talking about. That deep, low voice- how can it be possible for any mere mortal to possess that?
"The thing- you wanted to show me," He sounded amused, enjoying her reaction.
Molly's eyes snapped open and she felt rage boil within her.
He was amused now, was he? She was such a fool. Such a stupid, idiotic- bloody hell!
She thought she had hid it well, but of course, it was still plain as the day. She was still attracted to him, he still affected her, she loved him and Sherlock knew that. He knew that very well and as was the tradition between them, he was still- even after everything she had done, even now- trying to use her feelings.
How could she have not noticed it before? All those touches, all those odd behaviour, they were all just an elaborate scheme to get back in her good graces, to turn her into that blubbering idiot all over again.
"Stop it. Just stop it, "She said in a cold voice. She remembered the last time she had used those exact words on him, when he was high as a kite and was making unwanted remarks about her engagement. The situations were so different, but in essence they were the same- Sherlock had crossed a line.
She spun around and pushed past him, gathering her things and lunging for the door.
"Molly! Wait!" Sherlock stepped in front of her, effectively blocking her way, "What did I do? What do you mean by stop it?" He appeared genuinely bewildered but Molly refuses to be made a fool of for one more second.
"You played with my feelings. Again," She replied steadily, calmly. "So stop it, stop whatever it is you are doing. It's not working and I have had enough of you!"
With that, she was out of the lab before he could say another word.
"Will you stop sulking for one minute and tell me what the matter is?" John demanded.
Sherlock did not deem it necessary to answer him, happy to shoot the wall for the crime of being a wall.
"Sherlock!" John tried again, over the sound of the bullet.
"You have been sulking for five days now and everyone is worried." Sherlock looked up at that, and John emphasized, "Everyone."
"Even Molly?"
"Even M- Wait! Is that all this is about?" John raised an eyebrow. "You are sulking because Molly had finally taken a week off of work? Honestly! The girl can't always be present at your whims, though it's understandable why you seek her company so much."
"She had taken a week off?" Sherlock sat up straight, placing his gun on the table and looking at John with interest.
John nodded. "You didn't know that? Then why- Did something happen between you and Molly?"
Sherlock shook his head.
"Then?"
"That's just it! I don't know what happened between us!" Sherlock ran a finger through his hair, frustration evident in his body language. "Everything was so good. I thought our relationship was progressing nicely, that we were ready to take the next step-"
"What relation?" John interrupted.
"Our relationship. Pay attention. Boyfriend and Girlfriend or whatever you prefer to call it. We are a couple. Did you not know?"
"No, I bloody well did not." Had John missed something? He thought his friend was mooning over Molly Hooper, when he was already in a relationship with her.
Sherlock waved his hand dismissively. "Anyway, everything was going great. And then, that day in the lab- where I was trying to take it to a new level, take the next step. But Molly," Sherlock looked miserable, entirely too similar to a kicked puppy, "Molly told me to stop it. That she had had enough of me. Guess, I was mistaken, huh?"
"I must have done something wrong, something," Sherlock mulled over all he knew, but couldn't detect the source of the problem.
An idea formed inside John's had and he had a feeling he knew what the problem was. Molly Hooper loved Sherlock, why would she leave him like that, unless...
John interrogated Sherlock on everything that had happened since his relationship began to that day in the lab, and then when John reached a conclusion and opened his mouth, Sherlock Holmes was rendered speechless and was questioning his own intellect himself.
"Molly is aware that you are dating, right?"
Bang!
Bang!
Bang!
"Molly, this is ridiculous. I know you are in there. You know I can break in any time I want."
Clang! Click!
"What. Do. You. Want. Sherlock?"
A knife held in her hand, too much stress on each syllable. Not good!
"I would tell you, if you would be kind enough to put down the knife first?"
Stare.
Sigh.
"Fine."
"Ah! Thank you."
"So?"
"So.."
Raised eyebrow.
"Go out with me?" Shifty eyes.
"I am not in the mood for your games-"
"That's what I asked you. Months ago. You said yes."
"You did? I did? I don't-"
"Remember. Figured. I asked if you wanted to have coffee, you agreed. We went out and then had lunch at Baker Street. That was the beginning of our relationship."
"It was?"
"It has, however, been recently brought to my attention- based on that day in the lab and my evaluation of the past couple of months- you had not realized what you had agreed to."
"I haven't."
Silence.
Shuffle feet. "So, will you? Go out with me?"
"Yes." Smile.
"Good." Grin.
A/N: So, I know this concept is done to death, but I love it. So, I just wanted to write one of my own! I hope it was satisfactory.
Please, do review.