A/N: This is inspired by three prompts. Anonymous wanted "Halloween party prompt where Sherlolly are enemies usually but meet in costume at a Halloween party and (coupled with it being dark) don't know who the other is." mel-loves-all wanted "meeting at a masquerade ball au." SimplyShelbs16 wanted a Sherlock/POTO mash-up. I hope all three of them like it.
I know the Phantom mask only covers part of the face so between that and the voice, it would be obvious that it's Sherlock, so I'm asking my beloved readers to just go with it. :)
I wrote this late last night so I can only blame it on a tired brain. :)
Molly Hooper was the kind of person who liked everyone, and everyone liked her. Everyone, that is, except Sherlock Holmes. She did like him at first. He was tall, dark, brooding, and brilliant, just her type. When he first started coming to the morgue, she did everything she could to get his attention – small talk, putting on lipstick, even asking him out to coffee, something she never had the nerve to do with any man she fancied before him.
Sherlock seemed to have no idea she was interested in him. Then he started needing more things from her – time in the lab, assorted and numerous body parts, things like that. Molly didn't mind at first, she knew his work with NSY was important. Then he started with the false compliments. He only ever said nice things to her when he wanted something. The rest of the time, he ignored her. Mortifyingly, it took a couple of times before she caught on. Chatting her up just to look at some dead men's feet was the last straw. The next time he came to the morgue after that case, she told him to find another pathologist to work with.
Sherlock was decidedly put out since she was the last pathologist at Bart's who was willing to work with him. He tried to flatter his way back into her good graces but she was having none of it. When he stormed out of the morgue, she felt simultaneously elated and crushed and couldn't help wondering if she'd made a mistake.
The Saturday before Halloween, six months after the last time she had seen Sherlock, Molly was in a hotel ballroom, dressed in a lacy pink ballgown. Her hair was falling in loose curls down her back and she hoped the delicate cream lace mask hid her face enough that no one could tell she was Mousy Molly from the Morgue. The hospital's annual Halloween masquerade ball was in full swing, but all Molly could think about at the moment was how much she'd rather be home with a good book.
Why did I even bother coming? No one's asked me to dance, and I'm not about to ask anyone. The food isn't that great, except for the candy, but if I eat another fun-size Butterfinger, I'm going to have to loosen the lacings on this dress. She walked over to one of the empty tables at the back of the room and sat down. Ten more minutes then I'm going home.
"There you are," Meena said as she came over. She was dressed like the Queen of Hearts, a little red mask hiding her face but Molly knew her best friend anywhere. "Who are you supposed to be again?"
Molly rolled her eyes, smiling a bit. "Christine Daae from The Phantom of the Opera."
Meena's eyes lit up. "Oh! There's some bloke dressed like the Phantom skulking around. I'm surprised you haven't run into him yet. You should find him and get someone to take pictures of the two of you."
Huh. Might be fun. "Where did you see him last?"
"By the DJ. He was complaining about the 'ungodly racket' that is today's pop music." Meena giggled. "Ooo, he's got a really nice voice, maybe you can get him to sing."
Right. "I'll ask." After a moment's hesitation, she got up then went off to look for her Erik.
She checked every masked man there, but while there were plenty of men dressed as Zorro or Doctor Strange, she couldn't find any dressed as the Phantom. Frustrated and needing a breather, she left the ballroom then went down the hall to the ladies' room. For the first time since she left her flat that evening, she got a good look at herself in the mirror. "I look damn good, even if no one else thinks so." The mask was starting to be uncomfortable so she took it off and set it on the counter.
That's when the lights went out.
Molly gasped. When her eyes adjusted to the darkness, she could see a sliver of light coming from underneath the door. Oh thank God, the power's not out. She started to head for the door but then she stopped. Wait, if the power's not out, then who turned out the lights? I'm alone in here.
Or am I?
The lights suddenly came back on, leaving Molly face-to-masked-face with the Phantom himself. He was tall with black curls above the white mask. The white tie and tails underneath the black opera cape with red lining fit him perfectly, unlike some of the rented costumes most of the other men were wearing.
He must own the tux. Nice, Molly thought approvingly, then she came to her senses. She crossed her arms in front of her chest, scowling. "Whoever the hell you are, you don't belong in here."
The man smirked. "Is that any way for Christine to greet her Angel of Music?"
"You're no more Erik than I am Christine. For all I know, you're just a pervert." She brushed past him then left the restroom.
He was two steps behind her. "Wait…" He grabbed her hand and she whirled around to face him.
"Leave me alone," she said firmly.
"Please, let me explain," he said gently. "I've been watching you all night, trying to build up my courage to speak with you. When I saw you leave, I knew I had my chance. I didn't mean to frighten you."
Molly raised an eyebrow. "Who are you, really?"
"Nobody. Nobody who matters, anyway."
"Everybody matters."
"I'd beg to differ, but then we'd be arguing the rest of the night, and that's the last thing I want to do with you." He held out his arm. "May I escort you back to the party, Miss Daae?"
She assessed him for a moment. "Tell me the truth – do you really work at Bart's or did you crash the party?"
"I really do work at Bart's. Everyone knows me. Or they would, without the mask."
"Will you let me see your face?"
"At midnight, I promise."
"Alright." She took his arm and walked with him back to the party.
The other partygoers gave them a few curious glances and Meena gave them a big thumb's up. The DJ must have seen them since the musical's soundtrack started playing.
"I think that's our cue," he murmured, smiling a bit. "May I have this dance?"
"Yes, but just the one."
"One is all I need." He took her in his arms and they started to waltz.
Molly couldn't help but notice how well he danced, or how good it felt to be in his arms. Pervert or not, he's a really good dancer. It's been way too long since I danced like this with a man.
When the tune ended, everyone applauded and Molly couldn't help blushing. She raised a hand to her cheek and realized she didn't have the mask on. Bloody hell, I must have left it in the bathroom. No wonder everyone was giving me odd looks when we came in. She turned to her partner. "Why didn't you tell me I forgot my mask?"
He smirked. "And miss seeing your pretty face? Besides, Christine doesn't wear a mask."
The Phantom led her back to the table she'd been at and she put her shoes back on after she sat down. He sat down next to her and they started to talk about their interests. He learned that she was an amateur taxidermist, she learned that he played the violin. Molly found herself quickly warming up to him.
Ten minutes to midnight, a man dressed as the Lone Ranger came over to them. "Sorry to interrupt," he said sincerely, then he turned to the Phantom, "but we need to go."
"Can't you stay till midnight?" Molly asked.
The Phantom smiled at her sadly. "I'm afraid the reveal will have to wait." He reached into a hidden pocket of his cape and pulled out a long-stemmed red rose. Tied to the rose with a black satin ribbon was a diamond ring. It had a large round diamond surrounded by smaller round diamonds on a gold band.
Molly blinked in surprise. Just like Christine's. It must be fake, there were a bunch of those after the movie came out. Still, it's lovely. She took the rose when he held it out to her and smelled it. "Mmm, it smells heavenly, and the ring is beautiful. Thank you, Erik."
He leaned to whisper in her ear, "You're welcome, Molly."
She was about to ask how he knew her when he and the Lone Ranger left.
Molly went home shortly after that. She fell asleep thinking about her very own Erik.
Monday, the day before Halloween, she was in the path lab when her mobile chirped.
11:30a I need two eyes, brown ones. A man's life depends on it. SH
She stared at the text in disbelief.
11:33a I thought I told you that body parts are off-limits. Molly
11:34a You did but a man will die if I don't solve this. Bring them to 221B Baker Street. SH
Molly desperately wanted to tell him to sod off but she couldn't risk a man's life just because Sherlock was an arse. She'd never been to Sherlock's flat before, but as soon as she walked into his sitting room, cooler in hand, she was struck by how … comfortable she felt there.
That's probably because he's not in sight, she thought. "Sherlock?"
"In the kitchen. Make yourself at home."
Not bloody likely … but I will poke around. She looked at the books on his groaning shelves, the pinned insects and bat on the mantle, and the skull. Molly turned to the two armchairs and gasped. Her mask was on the arm of the leather chair. How did that get there? Why didn't I notice it when I came in? She picked it up. Wait, if Sherlock has my mask, that must mean-
"Ah, I see you found my memento. I was meaning to return it." He was behind her, close enough that she could feel the heat coming off his body.
She wasn't ready to face him yet. "That … that was you?"
"I knew wearing a mask was the only way I'd get close to you," he murmured. "I've been thinking about you ever since you threw me out. I was wrong to treat you that way. You deserve so much, certainly more than I can give you." He lightly touched her arm and she turned to face him. "Could you ever consider giving me another chance?"
"At working with me?" she asked, smiling weakly. "I brought those eyes."
He smiled sheepishly. "Ah, yes, the eyes…"
"Sherlock…"
He chuckled. "It was a ruse to get you to come down here. The only brown eyes I needed to see were yours."
"And the man about to die?"
"Er … yes, that would be me. I exaggerated slightly, I'll admit, but I do feel like I'll die if I don't get back in your good graces."
"Sherlock…"
"Please, Molly? I want to see you, and not just at Bart's."
"Where, then?"
"My home, your home, Angelo's, any other place people go on dates."
She stared at him. "You want to date me?"
"Yes, I thought that was obvious when I gave you that rose." He noticed the ring on her right ring finger. "And the ring."
"The rose is in a vase on my nightstand. I, um, I was thinking of preserving it."
Sherlock grinned. "So … will you let me take you out to dinner?"
Molly grinned back. "Let's start with lunch."
He proposed a year later. Molly, of course, said yes. When she asked him about a ring, he grinned delightedly and took her right hand.
"Sweetheart, you've been wearing your ring all this time," he said.
"Wait, what?" she asked, dumbfounded. "I thought it was cubic-zirconia."
Sherlock chuckled as he slipped the ring off her finger then showed her the markings inside the band. "See? Real gold, real diamonds. I've known for a long time that you're the only woman I could want, I just had to wait for you to believe me." He then took her left hand and slipped it onto her ring finger.
She stared at him. "Sherlock, I lost this ring down the drain. I had to call the plumber to get it back. I would've just let it go but it meant so much to me because it was one of the first gifts you gave me."
He grinned. "Thank God for sentiment, then."
Molly shook her head in disbelief, smiling a bit, then she pulled his head down and kissed him deeply.
One thing is certain – our lives will never be dull.