Authors notes: It's been a really long time since my last attempt at writing, so please be patient with me.
...
"I just, don't get it. Why on Earth do women like 'that', seem so keen on you? When you are so obviously the least sexually available man on the planet. I mean, did you see that? Did you even see her? She was... just wow.." John stared incredulously at Sherlock who was sighing loudly in obvious protest to the current conversation.
"Do you even like women?" John plopped down on his familiar chair, legs outstretched, arms folded across his chest as he tried desperately to understand his friends apparent lack of interest in members of the opposite sex.
"Of course I like women John, don't be absurd." Sherlock grabbed a paper, and sat down in his own chair. One leg crossed at the knee as he skimmed for anything interesting, while quickly adding.."Not that there's anything wrong with..." he paused, searching for the right words, "with not liking women..." Sherlock let out a slight cough and gave an awkward smile.
Then you must explain this to me, because I don't quite get it. You've passed up so many opportunities with women. That waitress down the street, was it Melanie? Janine, and no, your using her for access into that man's office doesn't count. Irene Adler …. and now this.. I simply don't understand it. Especially this last one. I mean she was … " John gave a loooong whistle. "Keep in mind, I'm a happily married man, but even I would have paused a minute to give that a thought."
Sherlock was getting annoyed, "She was barely 25, and an absolute bore. An obvious attention seeker, looking for a quick shag to brag about to the papers. Besides, you're being rather hypocritical. I've seen you turn down advances from many fairly attractive women yourself, and I assure you, your reasons for turning down a quick pick me up are every bit as good as mine." He turned to the next page of his newspaper rather aggressively not bothering to lift his eyes.
"I'm Married you tit" John leaned forward "with child, in-case you've forgotten." John nodded his head in the direction of the fireplace where a rather recent family portrait rested on the mantelpiece. Mrs. Hudson's doing no doubt. Sherlock would never keep such sentimental items in his possession, let alone display them openly for others to see. "Of course I turned them down, Mary would have my head, quite literally on a platter. I did marry a top of the notch assassin after all". He gave an uncomfortable laugh before further validating his point. "Not to mention the fact that I am in love with her, and am committed to her emotionally as well as physically. You on the other hand. You're technically a bachelor. There's no stopping you from getting a little fun every now and again. I don't know what's stopping you. You can't even begin to compare yourself to me in this situation. It's entirely different." He took a long sip from his tea.
"Actually John, I can." at this Sherlock put down his newspaper and reached for the tea at his side. "Hmm, when did Mrs. Hudson drop these off?" he nodded at the teacups currently in each of their hands.
John shrugged, sipping his tea again smiling. "I have no idea... but that woman is a Godsend. " The two men nodded in agreement silently.
"Well then, where was I?" Sherlock set down his tea and stared pointedly at his best friend. "Ah, yes." "Though, I may be considered a bachelor, I happen to harbor feelings of an elaborate nature for one particular woman and one particular woman alone."
John let out a snort. "Your mum doesn't count Sherlock, and how does that explain your relationship with Janine? Surely if you harbor elaborate feelings, as you put it, for one woman and one woman alone, you wouldn't have gone that far with Janine. Unless... it is Janine?" John couldn't quite believe that notion as a possibility but he said it anyway.
Sherlock shook his head repeatedly. "No John. Don't be daft. I may have shared my bed with Janine, but that was strictly business, my heart was most certainly not in it, and seeing as I AM technically single, I feel no guilt in sleeping with a woman to obtain information relevant to solving a case. Especially one as thrilling as the Magnussen case. I regret absolutely nothing."
John stared incredulously at his friend. The sincerity in Sherlock's tone was not lost on him, but he simply couldn't wrap his head around what he was hearing.
"So you're telling me, that you've been blowing off these incredibly beautiful and irresistable women... because you're... " He paused as if struggling with the concept. "because you're in love?"
"Do keep up John, you're embarassing yourself. Really, I would have thought it obvious by now.".
"No... no, obvious is not a word I'd use in this situation"
"I've been acting an absolute love sick fool for years now, I'm rather surprised you never noticed. You must be completely thick."
John rolled his eyes momentarily as he swallowed his pride and continued. "Uhm.. no.. no you haven't... you really haven't Sherlock. It's unnerving really how cold and uncaring you appear to just about everyone... and I say that as your friend who loves you.." a small smile crept on John's face as he started to see the humor in all of this.
"but never, you have never … not even once shown signs of being in love."
"..."
"Are you having a go at me? Are you pulling my leg? Is that what this is? Sick of me making fun of your asexuality all the time, so you thought you'd string me along for a joke? Ohhh! This is good. You're good. . haha.. yep.. you got me.. very funny.."
Sherlock's face remained stoic.
"Do be serious John, I'm not at all joking!" He stood up and chugged the last bit of his tea before placing it back on the small table to his left. The consulting detective seemed a bit put off by his friends doubt in the matter.
John shrank back a little into his chair. "I'm sorry Sherlock, I really had no idea." He forced a slight chuckle back down his throat. "It's just, surprising that's all. I mean, You're always going on about how sentiment is for the losing side and all. And you've never really talked about this before, how was I supposed to know?" The good doctor felt a slight pang of guilt at the realization that his friend might actually be serious.
"Sentiment is a weakness indeed John; that's why I choose not to pursue my feelings further." Sherlock laid down unceremoniously onto the sofa, and suddenly softened his tone. "Besides... I'd make a lousy companion. I'm married to my work; I could never give her the attention she deserves. I'd just end up.. hurting her feelings, or worse, put her life in danger over some rubbish case.
John took a deep breath. "Sherlock?" He paused to quirk a brow. "Sherlock? May I ask who this woman is?"
"You really don't know?"
"I really don't"
Sherlock sighed. He kicked his legs a few times like a small child throwing a tantrum.
"This love feeling...it defies all logic and reasoning. It's absolutely mad! UGH! And really quite complicated, I'm not sure how you simple people manage it."
John rolled his eyes a little, but remained silent to allow his friend to continue.
Sherlock shot right up off the couch and began pacing about the living room.
She's clumsy, socially awkward, and is an absolutely horrible judge of character. She's brilliant, when you compare her to normal people, still not quite as smart as I'd like her to be, but let's be reasonable here. No one is as smart as I'd like them to be. Her hair is always a mess, her state of dress is almost always appalling, her lips are too small and her breasts are mediocre at best."
He groaned audibly. "Yet I find her irresistibly charming"
"She's 100% predictable and boring...well, maybe I'm wrong about that last bit." He unconsiously put a hand to his cheek rubbing at it gently.
"I am crazy about her John. I'm... " and here he paused to allow the confession to sink in. "I'm in love with Her"
John sat frozen at his friend's confession. Surely he misheard the whole thing.
"I'm in love with Molly Hooper"
A full minute passed in silence as his words sunk in.
John licked his now dry lips. His eyes were wide and unblinking...
"Molly? …...Molly Hooper? Molly Molly?! Really Sherlock... Molly Hooper?!" He could hardly contain himself; he didn't know if he should laugh or shout.
"Yes John, unless you know of another woman by that name there really needn't be any cause for confusion, and I'd appreciate this remaining between the two of us if you don't mind. I know you're married, but don't go blabbering on about it to Mary for christ's sake. She's a meddler, I can tell."
"You do know she is mad about you right? Why don't you ask her out? You KNOW she'd say yes"
"Don't be daft John, I don't want to date her"
"Well?! Why the bloody hell not Sherlock?"
"Emotional entanglements would only hinder me in my work John, Its rather embarassing having these feelings to begin with, and I'd rather not act on them if at all possible." He sat back down on his chair.
"And, as I mentioned earlier, I'd make one lousy boyfriend. She'd just end up breaking it off with me a month from now, after the thrill wears off. And that would be the end of it... or worse... I could end up like my parents" he shivered at the thought.
"Your parents are lovely Sherlock"
"They're dull"
"They're happy"
"A by-product of mental insipidness"
John sighed. There was no getting through to him on this.
"Oh Molly.. poor Molly." The corners of his mouth turned up slightly.
"You Sherlock, are an arsehole. A right arsehole. And! You're an idiot, if you ask me. You could be happy with her, and she of all people would not get in the way of your precious work. She's happy just to be around you, don't ask me why, so you wouldn't need to get all fluffy and emotional to keep her satisfied.
With that, John shot a glance at his wristwatch and headed towards the door. "We're not done with this conversation Sherlock, but I should be heading home soon, give the Mrs. a rest and all that.
Sherlock rolled his eyes dramatically, and grabbed for his violin. "Yes, yes, be gone already john, before we start discussing domestics. You know how much that bores me."
"Oh you're not getting out of this that easily Sherlock, the game is most definitely on." John turned to leave.
"Just what are you up to then?" Sherlock looked slightly disturbed at the prospect of continuing this conversation further.
"You're the detective Sherlock, figure it out" And with that, the door was heard closing downstairs.
Sherlock grabbed the bow off the windowsill and started playing a violent and rather dramatic piece loud enough for John to hear on the street below where he was hailing a taxi.
'I'll be damned', thought John. 'Sherlock's in love.'