This is my first attempt at a Sherlock fanfic, so please be nice. And please tell me what you think. Did I get the characters right? Did you enjoy it? Did it make sense?
If I owned Sherlock, I would be drinking tea with Benedict Cumberbatch. So no, I don't own it. Read and review please!
Molly brushed a lock of hair from in front of her place to behind her ear for what seemed like the eighteen thousandth time that day. She glanced out the window into the sparkling sunlight and sighed. The world had some nerve to be sunny today, given the circumstances. Angry, she rubbed her hand over where the charm bracelet used to be. Before she threw it at her ex and stormed away. She couldn't help but wonder if he had kept it, or tossed it aside. Just like he had her.
That wasn't the whole truth, and she knew it. Still, she was sure that the fight hadn't been all her fault. It takes two sides to form a collision, so what if hers had moved first? There was a soft knock on the door to the morgue. It was a strange sound, but she was glad to be taken out of her vow of momentary silence.
"Come in," she offered the silence around her.
The door opened. She sat up, and tried to slide the box of gummy bears under her shirt. They were her go-to shame spiral snack, but she had a feeling her boss would not approve of her sulking. Or brooding more like, but still not exactly what she was designated to do.
"Molly, this is Sherlock Holmes. He is going to be working with you,"
Sherlock Holmes. That was the name of the man in front of her. He was tall, but not exactly physically imposing. His eyes were dark, but not cold. He stood officially, and yet relaxed at the same time. He seemed to be analyzing her, like a body he didn't realize was still alive.
"Um, hi. I'm Molly," she began.
"Yes, Molly Hooper. It says so on your tag, no need to go on like the rest of the room cannot read," came the reply. She hung her head in shame, the blinked. Why should she be ashamed, he was the one being rude? Though she sort of did see his point. Molly cocked her head, thinking of no reply and she watched her boss leave her alone with this man.
"And you are Sherlock?" she said tentatively.
"Yes, I believe I was priory introduced,"
Okay, maybe she was asking for that one. She sat down, and shot him a quick glance before grasping one of her candies in her sweating palm and sliding it into her mouth in a what she hoped was subtle fashion. No such luck.
"Do you always eat in the lab? That is highly unsanitary."
"No, sorry. I was just, er," she tried to think of a good excuse. He bore into her with those dark eyes of his. Something cool, and yet underneath enlightening. Like looking into a mirror for the very first time and realizing every flaw and attribute you have.
"I'm sorry," he said, and she blinked. Sorry for what? Being rude to her? Staring at her? Sorry they had to work together?
"For," she prompted, though she secretly wanted to believe it was one of the first two.
"About your boyfriend,"
Her jaw dropped. The green snack was plastered to her tongue, so she shut it again rather quickly. But she couldn't understand. She hadn't even told her best friend Carson about the break up. Had Brett, that jerk, blabbed it out? But she had never seen this man before in her life.
"How did you-" she started.
"Your wrist. There is a slightly fading marking left only by some form of jewelry. It is tight and has some sort of chain type clasp. So obviously rather pricy, clearly a gift given the rest of your attire," at this Molly glanced at her outfit in hurt embarrassment, "And since it was a gift, it must be from someone close to you. But you are no longer wearing it. So you must have had troubles with the person in question. Given the way you clasp it, you are touchy over the subject meaning it was some sort of personal relationship. And so, you recently broke up with your boyfriend and it is social convention to say that I am sorry for your loss, though in truth I couldn't care less,"
She blinked. Was she impressed? Creeped out? Shy? Embarrassed? Ashamed? Now she felt rather dumb for not seeing it. But who actually pays attention to that? Plus all the inferences were backed by things so subtle even her closest friends hadn't noticed it. Shaking her head in amazement she forced a polite smile.
"That was impressive. I guess I couldn't have figured it out,"
"Of course you couldn't, most of the human population's minds are so blank it is a miracle they know how to stand properly," he said crisply, "Do you hum whilst working?"
"No-"
"Then this will be nearly tolerable, I suppose,"
Nearly tolerable. My, she was truly flattered. Molly shook her head in disbelief, not entirely sure this guy was real. Maybe be he was a lack of sleep induced hallucination. A hallucination with gorgeous cheekbones.
"Okay, I will, er, start working," she said lamely and went to the desk.
She had momentarily forgotten what it was she was working on, but she supposed she couldn't exactly return to moping and eating gummy bears. She shot the tall, curly haired man another look before feigning interest in some papers on her desk.
"What else do you know about me?" she said carefully.
"Everything worth knowing, so not much."
Okay, ouch. And with that comment, he strode out of the room. She allowed her eyes to follow him a few meters before getting control over herself. What was she thinking? He had just marched in here like he owned the place, and implied several offensive things. But it didn't matter. She couldn't shake the feeling. She was in love with Sherlock Holmes.