Slow Dancing in a Burning Room
A/N Another song inspired fic - MollCroft of course! An established relationship is hitting rocking waters. Slow Dancing in a Burning Room by John Mayer.
Heads up - possibly triggers! Its heated, you've been warned.
It had started at the Baker Street Christmas Party, the first Mycroft had attended and probably the last at this rate, and it had caused them to say their goodbyes at the peak of the night and return home because Mycroft had stormed out and said he would wait in the car until she had had her fill and ready to leave. The awkward silence that had followed and the tight lipped smiles in her direction meant she left shortly after, holding back tears as she hugged John and kissed Sherlock's cheek. She glanced at the tumbler he'd been holding which had ceremoniously been dropped to the floor - empty? Was that his 3rd? Maybe his temper is why he didn't drink often.
"It'll be alright, Mol'." John mumbled into her hair as he squeezed her, "Text us when you're home, yeah? Let us know you're alright." He wiped a tear from her cheek and kissed her head. She sniffed, knocked back what was left of her drink and gave a quick nod dashing out of the door. Sherlock's face was still tight as he tried to process the irrational little display as he wandered into the kitchen and John went to try to find Lestrade an ice pack.
Molly stood by the fireplace now back at Mycroft's house, her face all red and tear tracks down her face. Her arms were wrapped tight around herself now as she refused to meet his eyes, she wasn't upset as such anymore. She was angry. But often, she had found, angry and upset looked and acted strangely similar.
The evening had started out beautifully, after a lot of persuading on her part she had managed to get Mycroft to agree to come to the Baker Street party with her even if it was just for a few hours. Despite his resentment of sentiment getting the better of him, he agreed to make her happy and didn't complain, too much, while they got ready. When she'd meet him in the hallway after grooming he had been a true gentleman and dare she say romantic.
"You look radiant and dazzling, my dear." He took her hand and pressed his lips to her knuckles. "If I had of known this party would bring out such a delectable side of you I would have agreed sooner." She blushed and couldn't stop herself from grinning like a silly school girl as he helped her with her jacket and placed a possessive hand on her hip. The bottle of wine they had shared while soaking in the bath had gave them both a pleasant warmth in the stomach and across their cheeks.
It's not a silly little moment
It's not the storm before the calm
This is the deep and dyin' breath of
This love we've been workin' on
"Mycroft, I want to go home." She whispered tightly.
He had stood by the large door that entered his living room since the argument had reached home. He couldn't fathom what had got her in such a state - as far as he was concerned he had merely stuck to the social etiquette expected of males in that situation. He shook his head lightly, he couldn't think properly. He'd listened to her vent her frustration but to hell was he going to let that scene occur while he was there, right in front of his eyes! She's lucky he didn't have that man- Molly had gone to pass by him through the door. Mycroft put his umbrella in the way and he saw her shoulders droop. She closed her eyes and muttered, "Mycroft.. I'm going home."
He drew himself closer to her to block her path and stood in the middle of the doorway. "Molly, you're being unreasonable." He reached to lift her chin to meet his gaze but she snapped her head away and hissed, "Don't touch me. Just, let me leave."
He stood again without moving, frowning at her. He just couldn't compute what was happening - how could she be so angry? He should be angry and he's tolerating her ridiculous emotional display without so much as a retort. He could feel his head pounding.. "Mycroft. Move please." She tried to move passed him again but his bulk against her small frame, well, it wasn't ever going to work. "Mycroft!" She raised her voice now. "Let. me. leave-!"
"And how will leaving help Molly?!" He snapped. "You're being irrational! If you had handle this properly we wouldn't be bickering like children now." His chest was puffed out and his frown deep. When had Molly ever come over so illogical? She met his eyes but her face wasn't defiant or furious, it was defeated and, dare he say it, she looked heart broken. That look broke his resolve a little and he reached out to hold her.
Can't seem to hold you like I want to
So I can feel you in my arms
Nobody's gonna come and save you
We pulled too many false alarms
He held her for a moment and felt she wasn't reciprocating or relaxing. Her shoulders were still set tight and her face still pinched. When hadn't holding her been enough to get her to relax and talk? Mycroft let his arms fall loose around her and waited.
"Have you finished?" She asked coldly.
He removed his arms completely, "Finished? Molly, you're the one that likes to cuddle," Cuddle came out like he was spitting poison. "I can't help if such an primitive display usually comforts you."
She scoffed and snapped, "Oh, you don't like me touching you? So I've never woken up with you wrapped around me like an huge octopus?" How could he be so cold?! "Just- Leave me alone Mycroft!" Molly made for the door again and he grabbed her wrist, pulling her to him. She smacked his hand away. "Mycroft, just get off!" It was no use though, he had her wrist in a second and pulled her into him tightly. "Let me go!" She brought her hand back and when her hand met his cheek and resounding smack. In an instant he had both her wrists trapped and backed her up against the wall. He wasn't speaking while she made angry grunts trying to free herself. In one last attempted she brought her knee up to meet up his jewels but he was too quick and somehow now had his knee firmly between her legs, lifted slightly, pinning her in place.
Nothing was once she stopped struggling, just tears rolling down her cheeks and both their chests heaving.
We're goin' down
And you can see it too
We're goin' down
And you know that we're doomed
My dear
We're slow dancing in a burnin' room
Once he'd caught his breath he raised his head to look at her. Her hair and dress esque and her makeup had smudged. He couldn't stop his pounding heart as he took her in and his drink-addled brain decided she had never looked more sexy pinned against the wall.
He brought his mouth crashing down on hers and seeked a way into her mouth, when she responded in such fevered passion he loosened his grip and her hands found their way into his hair. This wasn't the first argument that had ended like this, one might even call it a pattern.
She started shoving his blazer off his shoulders and he unceremoniously dropped it to the floor, his hips pushed against her's still holding her in place as she tugged at his shirt tails and removed his waist coat. Their mouths still attached, his hands now came to her thighs and made their way up, lifting the dress up to her hips.
"Stop." She sobbed, "We can't keep doing this."
He broke the kiss and and closed his eyes. Neither moved from the heat of the other, but tears began to fall down Molly's face again. How did their relationship became so toxic?
He rested his head against the cool wall and stayed there, "Molly, just go." Her sobs became more evident as she slid to the floor and he felt his chest tighten, "Now, Molly." He gathered his blazer and pulled out his phone. "The car will be round in a moment. Leave." His expression cold as he watched her sob into her hands. This was it, he wouldn't play their game any longer. Cut it off. Cold Turkey.
"Is this it then?" She heaved, "Your jealousy is calling it a day for good?" She rose to her feet, trying to compose herself. The mouse pathologist he once met many years ago wasn't there anymore.
He cleared his throat, "Given the evidence, this is for the best." He'd smoothed his hair.
"How can you just throw this away?! How could you be so heartless?" Each word punctuated with a poke to the chest. "You mean everything to me and you don't want to work through this- you want to throw it away like it was nothing?!" A choked sob escaped her.
I was the one you always dreamed of
You were the one I tried to draw
How dare you say it's nothing to me
Baby, you're the only light I ever saw
I'll make the most of all the sadness
You'll be a bitch because you can
You try to hit me, just hurt me
"Don't you dare," Came a dangerous whisper as he grabbed her wrist once more, "make out like i'm the one who is not invested in this relationship Molly Hooper. Don't you dare! I have given you everything, everything, you could have ever wanted, ever asked for. You are the one leading men stray!"
"Leading men astray?! You make it sound as if I've a temptress leading men on left, right and centre! And this started out as a mutually beneficial arrangement Mycroft Holmes! Any changes have been instigated by you! People grow in relationships, they compromise and adapt! I wouldn't ask you to change for the world!"
"OH really?! Wouldn't like me to be more like a certain Detective Inspector? I could drop my IQ and start speaking like a local. Hell if he really does it for you I could dye my hair grey and start smelling like an ash tray!"
"Mycroft, Greg is just a friend! You know that! It's your stupid drunk pigheadedness that's confusing you!"
"He made a pass at you and you laughed it off! Like we hadn't arrived together, like I wasn't even in the room!" They were both shouting now, passion and confusion and a heaped dose of toxic love spewing out at all angles.
"Why would you being in the room make any difference?! Do you not trust me?! Do you think the second you're busy Im off scouting for company?!"
"You should have thrown him off!"
"WHAT?! I WAS STANDING UNDER THE MISTLETOE!"
"Mistletoe is a kiss on the cheek - it doesn't invite hands or tongues and don't think i hadn't noticed! YOU'D KISSED EVERY MAN IN THE ROOM!"
So you leave me feeling dirty
'Cause you can't understand
We're goin' down
And you can see it too
We're goin' down
And you know that we're doomed
My dear
We're slow dancing in a burnin' room
"What are you implying?! That I'd stood there all night just so I could instigate a christmas orgy with the Holmes boys and their men? Mrs Hudson would have had a great time i'm sure!"
"Don't make this into a joke! You should have moved Molly!"
"Maybe I was waiting for my partner to come over and take advantage of the situation!"
"Take advantage is what I'd like to think that Lestrade was doing but you didn't seem all that put out! In fact you did all but unzip his-"
Molly swung to slap him once more and this time he let her. His head stayed to the side where it had landed and he closed his eyes.
He didn't see her leave, he just head the clip of her shoes and the slam of the door.
Go cry about it, why don't you
Go cry about it, why don't you
Go cry about it, why don't you
My dear, we're slow dancin' in a burnin' room
Burnin' room, burnin' room
He stood there, slowly raising his hand to his jaw. Usually they'd come to sex by now and the issue had disappeared; he had no idea how this part went. He eyes searched the small scene and he took himself over to the drinks cabinet. One more couldn't possibly make the situation much worse now could it? He tipped a double into his glass and took it in one.
How could she not see that her behaviour tonight was uncouth and inappropriate?
Mycroft's head hurt. He poured another. He contemplated just going up to bed and sorting the matter in the morning but His Molly wouldn't be up there.
Maybe he should go after her?No, he wasn't in any state to try understand her or rationalise the evening, he'd make it worse… if that was at all possible.
He growled in frustration and flung the glass into the open fire, watching the flames jump up, he sank in his seat and held his head.
A moment late he heard a noise behind him at the window and turned, his heart leapt a little at the thought that maybe Molly had tried to come back but no, it was just Sherlock. He opened the window and climbed in effortlessly. Neither Holmes boy said anything, they didn't need to, everything that had passed between him and Molly in this room Mycroft was sure Sherlock knew. He walked a little closer and watched his brother's face cloud over. He had no idea what to say if he had thought he had to say anything at all.
It's hopeless. They were doomed, no matter how much he wanted it to work, they were doomed.
Don't you think we outta know by now?
Don't you think we shoulda learned somehow?
Don't you think we outta know by now?
Don't you think we shoulda learned somehow?
Molly clambered into the back of the long black car and held back a sob as she asked the driver to head to her flat. The car pulled away and she didn't bother to check if Mycroft had followed her out. The Great Mycroft Holmes wouldn't lower himself to chase anyone she thought bitterly. She was just fooling herself to think that they had something worth saving. Tears sprang from her eyes once more and she dialed John's number.
"Molly!-" She interrupted with a loud sob, "Molly, are you hurt? Where are you, I'll come to you."
"It's over."
Don't you think we outta know by now?
Don't you think we shoulda learned somehow?