HI dears, here is another shortie, though it will be two or three chapters. Please let me know what you think, I love to get any kind of feedback.
I'm ready
To love you.
I'm ready
To hold you.
Bryan Adams
This song had been inspired me to write this story, I love it. It's so simple but so true and beautiful. Check it if you didn't know it yet.
So, I hope you will enjoy.
The loud clattering forced Sherlock Holmes retrieving from his mind palace came from the coffee table where Molly Hooper smashed down the keys of 221B Baker Street. Sherlock had been storing all the data came up during the Moriarty case. Since the said madman appeared on every screen in England Molly for her own safety had been living in Baker Street, occupying John's old room.
'Are you leaving?' He blinked a few with a frown in confusion. Two days prior the Moriarty case had been closed by the death of him caused by an accurate shot from one of Mycroft's MI5 agents.
'Great deduction.' Molly snapped loudly then closed her eyes for a moment, and sighed. 'Sorry, I didn't mean to...to be so...harsh.'
'Why?' Sherlock stood up as he turned all his attention towards his pathologist.
'God, Sherlock! Are you serious?' Molly frowned in disbelief.
'Because you kissed me the day before yesterday?'
'What? I kissed you? Hahh.' Molly huffed. 'If I had such courage in me I would have done it years ago!'
.'
Two days ago
Sherlock was pacing up and down in his living room. The Moriarty case had reached a dead point a week prior, and nothing has seemed to move since then. He had been like a lion in a cage. The threatening presence of his archenemy in the life of him and who he cared for was driving him crazy. Last time he confronted Moriarty his friend were targets of gunmen and he had to disappear for two years. Although he secretly considered hunting down the criminal network as a large and heroic gesture, he had no intention to repeat anything similar to that. Sherlock wanted this whole thing to be over, he wanted to end this maddening game quickly. But for now he had nothing to do but wait. He huffed in frustration and wished John still lived there so he could steal his gun to add further decoration on the flowery wallpaper. His phone's buzzing was what pulled him out of his desperate state.
2 am in your home from home. Be on time, honey. JM
And that was it. Not a sign or a trace, but something he didn't really expected. An straightforward calling out. Sherlock took in a quick breath with wide eyes as he looked at the time on his phone. It was almost midnight. He had to be on time, not too early, not too late. So he still had an hour and forty one minutes till he had to leave Baker Street. Enough to organize everything.
When Sherlock silently pushed down the handle of the door to John's old bedroom it was already half past 1am. At the light came through the half closed doorway he saw Molly's tiny frame spreading across the large bed. To the creek of the floor under his feet the pathologist stirred and in a dreamy voice she asked.
'Sherlock? What's the matter?' she half set up supporting on her elbowss as the detective occupied the edge of the bed beside her. He cleared his throat before began to speak with straight back not looking at her.
'Molly, Moriarty came out. He wants to meet me. Now. Lestrade and three of Mycroft's men come here in case if it's only a trick to get to you. Although I doubt that.' He stopped and dropped his head ruffling his hair. Molly frowned. She had never seen him so lost, not even the night before his faked suicide, but didn't' say a word letting him to speak if he needed to and she set up fully.
'There is a minor possibility…no.' He closed his eyes and sighed. 'There is a major possibility that I won't survive this time. He had been preparing for this for years, he is capable of everything, so…' He shrugged with a weak, fake smile turning to face her. Molly was listening and watching him with wide teary eyes, her mouth was moving without a sound. 'I have to end this.'
'I know.' She whispered wiping the tears from her cheek with the back of her hand. 'I know.'
And this was the moment when he saw Molly as really who she was for him. The woman who had understood and loved him unconditionally for years, though there was no one who knew better that he had never done anything to gain or deserve it. But she still had loved him. Something that he would never be able to do.
Sherlock turned towards her with his whole upper body and looked into her eyes before placed one hand on the back of her head and bent down to push his lips to hers with a lingering, close-eyed kiss. A few moments later he pulled away and opened his eyes to look at Molly's shaking hands resting in her lap. He took one and lifted to his lips kissing her palm, dwelling on the soft sensation with strongly closed eyes. The moment disappeared as he stood up without further words and walked out of the room, never looking back.
Sherlock stood there clearly uncomfortable lifting from one foot to the other.
'So since you've returned you have been clearly avoiding me, which is quite a complicated task to tell the truth as we live under the same roof. I've decided to ease your inconvenience and move out.' Molly sighed. 'You know how I feel, I probably will never feel any other way, all you have to figure out is how you feel, but I can't assist to that anymore. Do you have anything to say? Anything?' She waited for a few seconds but only got quick blinking with slightly opened mouth from Sherlock. 'I tought so.' Sherlock only dropped his eyes onto her shoes. She gulped and said in a husky voice. 'Thank you for everything. Goodbye, Sherlock Holmes.' She nodded with a nervous smile and left the flat leaving a stunned detective behind, still staring at the place Molly had been moments before.
...
'Okay, Mike. Now you can tell me where Molly is.' Sherlock hadn't been at Bart's in the last two weeks. He used his time to think, to dig deep in himself and to decide. He got to the conclusion that he missed Molly, and with every day that feeling bounded a bigger and bigger knot in his inward. When the sensation became unbearable, and the only thing he was constantly seeing, not depending on if he was awake or asleep was Molly in front of him, kissing him, run her palm on his cheeks with her warm smile and he made a decision.
'Molly is not here, Sherlock, sorry. She had resigned from Bart's two weeks ago. She said she was going to travel. But I can help you.' Mike smiled apologetically. Sherlock frowned in frustration and shortly said.
'Hardly.' And with that he whirled around and stormed out from the lab.
There was only one place Sherlock could think about Molly would go. He went back to Baker Street. Sherlock Holmes had to pack.