Hello and thank you for clicking on my story! This is actually just the rough draft so it isn't very good. I apologize for that. I just wanted to upload this and get it out of the way so I could continue on to other business. If you like what I have then check again later for the full chapter. It may take awhile though as I am already in the middle of another story. Thank You!
"Molly Hooper, how do you do it?" Gregory Lestrade smiled as he leaned back in his chair.
"I pay attention." Molly smiled, trying to ignore the tall figure standing behind the detective inspector. He was picking up items and examining them, scowling every now and then.
"Put it down." She muttered severely, hoping he would hear her and leave the pictures alone.
"What?" Lestrade furrowed his brow in confusion. Glancing behind him to see where she was looking.
"Oh nothing. Is that all?"
"Um, yes, I think so. Thank you Molly." Lestrade sat up straight again, pushing a paper aside. "Actually, Molly?"
Molly turned back around, Nearly bumping into Sherlock. "He means to ask you out for coffee." He muttered. Sweeping out the still open door. Molly didn't worry about that, he would wait outside for her. It was how she was going to let Greg down was what she was worried about.
"I was wondering if you would like some coffee? I know a great place just down the street."
"No, I can't, sorry. I have a meeting with a friend. Possible flatmate actually." Molly didn't like the way she sounded so uncertain. If she was going to lie she should at least be good at it.
"Oh, okay, good luck with that." He sounded disappointed, but Molly was out the door before he could say another word.
"Took you long enough. I should think that saying no to coffee would be easy." Sherlock pushed away from the pillar he was leaning against. "But of course you had to let him down nicely. I don't see why. You know he's married?"
"Yes."
"The only reason he asked was because they're separated again." Sherlock sounded absolutely bored. "Her picture is back in the broken frame."
"Sorry? The broken frame?" Molly was only half paying attention as she attempted to hail a cab.
"Yes, the broken frame. Whenever he's mad at her he puts her picture inside the brown frame. It broke awhile ago and keeps falling down. Whenever they make up he puts it back into the gold. He doesn't simply get rid of the picture because it gives him satisfaction when the frame falls. When he puts it back into the good frame he feels better about putting it into the brown. Pathetic really."
"Sherlock, do you have anything else to do tonight?" Molly had given up on a cab and was busy trying to work her phone out of her pocket.
"No, why?" He questioned, turning back around to appraise her. "Ah, John and Mary are stopping by tonight. Mrs. Hudson is more excited than you. She gave you a shopping list."
"Sherlock, that wasn't the question." Molly said, ripping her gloves off so she could text better. "The question was whether or not you have anything better to do tonight."
"You don't want me there. Distracting you." He deduced, pulling his own phone out. He fiddled with it for a moment before sliding it back in his pocket. "Nope, not a single interesting case. Plus, I can't go after them without you."
"And why is that?"
"I need my pathologist." Molly smiled. That was the closest to a compliment that Sherlock could give. "Well, you'll have to wait Mr. Consulting Detective. We have shopping to do."
"John! Hello!" Molly squealed, hugging the blond tightly.
John tried not to stare at Molly. He hadn't seen her since she moved out of her fathers house two months ago. And two months had changed her. The small, meek woman who had worn ratty jumpers was gone. In her place was someone who stood out. Her normally dull auburn hair fell about her shoulders in waves. She was wearing a tight purple collared shirt and black jeans and heels with jewelry and artful make-up. And unless John was mistaken, she had lost weight.
"Oh you proposed!" Molly exclaimed excitedly, examining the ring on Mary's hand.
"Yes. I did. Just last week. Wanted you to be the first to know."
"Oh, that's marvelous! Our-My congratulations to you both!"
John and Mary exchanged glances over Molly's slip. They knew full well what she meant by 'our'. Molly was schizophrenic. And she was in love with an imaginary detective.