A Birthday in Paradise
AN: I made it. Its summer and I passed all my courses! I wrote this one-shot for my dear friend Hannah. It's her birthday, and since we're separated by a seven hour time zone, and a body of water, I thought I'd write her this small story as a gift. Happy Birthday Hannah!
A content hum left Molly's lips as she laid peacefully on top of her pink sea-shelled covered towel, her heavy eyes had given up their battle to stay open and had closed tightly. A lazy smile curled onto her lips as she heard the tranquil sounds of crashing waves in the distance, and felt the heat of the Hawaiian sun touch her bare skin.
"Happy birthday to me." She whispered quietly to herself as she brought the chilled martini glass to her lips and took a languished sip.
Moments later, a cool shadow moved above her supine stretched body, and had successfully blocked the sun from its path. Thinking it was a cloud, Molly held her eyes stubbornly shut and waited for the sun to remerge.
"Clouds, clouds, go away, please come back another day." She sung quietly under her breath as a small shiver crossed her arms.
"Hello Molly."
Her eyes snapped opened in disbelief at the sound of Sherlock's unexpected voice, and she yelped an unabashed "NO!" as she jolted away from him in surprise. In haphazard movements, Molly swiftly wrapped her towel around her Hawaiian flower printed, swim suit clad body. Once her towel was secure, she placed her hands firmly onto her hips and squinted her eyes into, what she called, an intimidating glare at one of London's most infamous celebrities. One that was currently wearing swimming trunks.
"What are you doing here?" She hissed through clenched teeth, her question provoking a dramatic eye roll from the detective as he stood in front of her.
"I'm here to celebrate your birthday, obviously." Sherlock answered in an exasperated tone, his right brow quirked upward as he watched her cheeks flare red under the word 'birthday'. He lifted his wrist, and frowned at his watch.
"Or rather the remainder few hours of it." He then proceeded to remove a towel from his own beach appropriate basket. He threw a glare at her direction as he unfolded the towel and placed it carefully onto the sandy beach. "Your sudden departure from London almost made it impossible to be here. I hardly had time to pack."
The corner of her lips tugged into a small smile as she watched him grab a medical journal from his basket and settle comfortably on top of his towel, his eyes ready to devour its contents. After a few moments of silence, he patted the sandy ground beside him impatiently. She shook her head, but slowly unwrapped the towel from her body and placed it beside his. Comfortable silence settled between the two of them as they both relaxed under the setting sun.
"I thought you didn't like beaches, crowds, or America." Molly said as she turned her gaze away from the scenery and onto the consultive detective beside her.
"I do. But you're here, therefor here I am." He stated with steady conviction. Without removing his eyes from the medical journal, he reached into his pocket and handed her a small map. The map had various circles all around different locations on the island. The corners of his lips curled slightly upward, when his eyes briefly met her curious gaze. "But while we are here we could grab some soil samples for later experiments."
Molly folded the map, and muttered under her breath as she roughly stuffed it into her own beach basket. "Fine, but you're doing the dirty work. It's my birthday after all and I'm on vacation."
She turned away from Sherlock and laid on her stomach, her head nestled in between her arms. A soft sigh left her lips as she felt the muscles of her back begin to relax. Moments later she heard rustling, and felt him move closer towards her. She peaked open one eye and saw that he was lying on his side, facing her with an inquisitive expression on his face.
"I'm curious."
"About what?" Molly asked, ignoring the small shiver that crossed her spine at his intense gaze.
"Your impromptu decision to leave on your birthday. You left in quite a haste, if the state of your flat was anything to go by." Molly's eyes widen in surprise at his deduction, her voice worried as she moved to sit up.
"You were in my flat? Did something happen back home that you needed me for?"
"No, nothing happened. I simply sought out your company. I was quite surprised upon entering your flat to see your neighbour, instead of you, on your couch petting Toby." He moved his legs forward and sat cross legged beside her, his hands enclosed underneath his chin.
"Don't hire that woman again, she's a thief and has stolen your rabbit house slippers. Don't fret, when we arrive back in London I will re-steal them from her." He promised, the infliction of his voice dead serious.
"What happened that caused you to leave so abruptly Molly?"
At his question Molly felt her eyes double in size, and her cheeks flare red in embarrassment and mortification as she recalled the reason for her abrupt departure. At that exact moment she wanted nothing more than to run into the ocean in hopes that the waves would devour her whole. The reason she left was absolutely ridiculous, silly, even on some degrees selfish.
For a brief second she contemplated doing the almost unachievable thing, and lie to The Great Sherlock Holmes. But seeing as he would undoubtedly know she was lying, and that would make the situation even more unbearable, she decided to tell him the truth. She forced her spine into an unholy straight position, one that the nun's at her old catholic school would have been proud of, and swallowed a large gasp of air and forcefully pushed the words through her vocal cords.
"I found a grey hair."
"Excuse me?" Sherlock asked hotly and with slight disbelief in his voice, he surely must have heard her wrong. But as she reached into her basket and placed an enormous white hat on top of her cranium, and stuffed all her auburn hair into the flimsy hat before tying the strings securely below her chin, he couldn't deny the fact that he did, apparently, hear her correctly.
"I left because I found a grey hair." She stated again, her words immediately followed by a heavy silence. Her embarrassment increased as his mouth hung slightly agape and his eyes blinked slowly at her.
"I fail to understand how that would lead you to make a haste escape from London." He said, the volume of his voice louder than either of them expected. She slowly nodded her head in agreement and tried to find the words needed to successfully explain the situation to him.
"Finding a grey hair is an objective sign of getting older, that I'm getting older." she whispered in earnest.
He leaned forward, his hand moving towards the offending white hat, and with gentle ease, he untied the hat and pulled it away from her head, causing the soft hair to tumble down her shoulders. He pinched the single grey strand, the one that caused her to leave, and moved it towards her line of site.
"This single grey strand of hair, does not dissuade your beauty in anyway or devalue your worth. To me, you will always be just Molly Hooper, Pathologist. No age attached. " Sherlock promised, the sincerity in his voice leaving her body boneless.
She sat beside him in silence, her mind rewinding and replaying the words he had said to her. To her, he was more than Sherlock Holmes, Consultive Detective. She loved him. But to him, she would never be more than 'just Molly Hooper. Pathologist.' With that realization she turned her eyes towards the painted colourful sky, and refused to meet his questionable gaze.
"I think I need to leave London". Molly confessed eventually.
Slowly, like he's afraid to scare her, he moved to stand up. Once upright, he held his hand out toward her, his face devoid of all emotion. "Let's take a walk."
Together they walk along the shore, both with identical expressions on their faces, and heavy hearts as they both roll over the meaning of her words. Their walk ends when Molly hears laughter coming from behind her. Her feet refuse to keep up with Sherlock, and instead she turns around to watch two children swim away from each other, throwing their heads back in laughter as they narrowly avoid each other.
"Why do you think you need to leave London?" He asked as he moved to stand beside her. They both watch in silence as the children's parents remerge from under the water, only to swim towards their children in attempt to tickle them, each member of the family laughing loudly and freely as they near each other. With a sad smile, Molly looked away from the beautiful family and turned to face him.
"Sherlock, that grey hair was my reality check. I want a family. I want a passionate, meaningful, fully requited love, and I-." she paused as her voiced cracked under the heavy weight of emotion. "And I just don't think I can find that staying in London."
He gently cupped her cheek in his hand, his thumb wiping away the treacherous tear that had escaped. He bent forward slightly and placed a soft kiss on her forehead. He then moved his lips to her ear and whispered, "You're wrong."
He placed a soft kiss on the outer shell of her ear, and then leaned back to look into her eyes, "You don't need to leave London. I can assure you Molly Hooper, I lov-." She threw her body at him, her hands tugging at his soft curls as she moved her lips hotly against his. A throaty moan escaped her lips when he began to return her kiss with uttermost vigor.
"I love you." She whispered to him once the kiss ended. At the site of his sincere smile, any doubts of his feelings disappeared. He wrapped his arm snug around her waist and pulled her closer towards him, and touched her lips with a gentle kiss.
"And I you."