AN: Hello! This is kinda AU of season 3, where Molly is not engaged to Tom. First attempt at angst, hope you like it. :)
Molly watched the foamy water swirl around her. She could see those thousands of rainbows in each perfectly spherical bubbles. The hot water felt great on her sore muscles. The smell of the bath was comforting and she let her eyes close, as she rested her head on the edge of the tub.
She had had to work double time that day. Her colleague Edward was supposed to take the shift after hers, but his wife had gone into labor. She had told him to not worry and had offered to take his shift. He had hugged her and then rushed out to meet his child.
Child. Children. The concept of a baby seemed like a forbidden topic to her mind. It was like a slippery thought. Ever elusive.
Molly sighed as her mind went down that particular depressive lane. She had been there a hundred times. Thanks to her mother who never missed an opportunity to point out that her biological clock was ticking, and that it wouldn't tick forever.
It really wasn't Molly's fault. She tried. She really really tried. She went on dates every other week, but none of the men could hold her attention for more than a few minutes. Sometimes, when she was changing back into pajamas after coming back from a date, she couldn't even remember the guy's face, let alone his name.
Sigh.
She was brought back to reality, when she heard her front door open. A door which she had locked behind her.
A normal sane person would rush out of the bath (after putting on the robe, obviously), find the nearest weapon and challenge the intruder.
But all Molly did was continue to close her eyes and enjoy her bath and her less enjoyable thoughts. Because she knew that only one person could get through the new high tech lock on her door and that must be the person who had installed it.
After about half an hour when the water began to get cold, she pulled out the plug and got out of the tub. It was a good thing that she had brought her clothes with her.
She dressed in her awfully cheery yellow T-shirt and matching pajama pants. She towel dried her hair as she glanced at the tired looking, thirty something in the mirror. When she was done, she opened the door to meet the reason for her failed dates.
Sherlock Holmes.
He looked like he always did. Beautiful. He had let his curls grow a bit longer. He was wearing a white dress shirt and black pants. His coat and scarf was neatly hanging on the coat hanger. He was sitting on her sofa, watching some soap and yelling at the TV. He had helped himself to some of the cookies that she had left on the coffee table.
Toby, her cat, was purring at his feet begging for his attention.
Molly tried her best to not see how much she resembled her cat. She went into the kitchen to make some tea. He had already put the kettle on. She took two tea cups out and poured tea for both of them.
When she came back to her living her, the TV was switched off and Sherlock was watching her. It was his 'I am deducing you right now' look. Initially it had made her nervous. During those first months when she had met him, she would be hardly able to formulate a thought but now she had gotten used to that.
She handed him his tea, noting that now Toby was sitting on Sherlock's lap who was now scratching his ears. Well, at least her cat succeeded in his attempts.
She settled on the settee opposite to him and curled up her legs. The room was engulfed in comfortable silence as they drank their tea.
Sherlock had taken to visiting her flat quiet often after his return from the dead. She had misinterpreted it as him wanting to be close her presence but when nothing changed between them, except that he wasn't cruel to her anymore, she had understood. She was the one who counted, as a friend and always as a friend. Nothing more nothing less. He would come to her flat when he was bored, needed a change of setting to think or needed her help in some experiment.
Right now it looked like there was a purpose for this visit. She didn't question him. He would talk in his own time.
"I need your help" he said all of a sudden, breaking the silence.
"With?" she asked hesitantly.
In the last couple of months since John's wedding he had started many a conversation like this and each request was more bizarre than the previous one and mostly bordered on illegal.
"Shopping" he said.
Molly allowed a smile to creep on her face.
"Sure. What are we shopping for?" she asked. She expected him to say grocery. When John used to live with him, he complained all the time about doing all the shopping. It was a running joke that Sherlock was terrified of the local Tesco.
"Just some clothes" he said nonchalantly.
That was odd. Sherlock's dressing sense was impeccable. Why would he want her help?
"Why?" she asked, her voice colored with confusion.
"It's for a date" he said, finally looking at her.
It was all Molly could do to freeze the smile on her face, as he kept on talking.
"You have been infatuated with me for so long. So it's only logical that you would know what looks good on me. I really need this date to work out."
"Is it for a case?" she asked, hating the hopeful sound in her tone.
Silence.
"Who?"
"Janine."
Ah. The beautiful bridesmaid. She was everything that Molly could never hope to be. They had looked pretty close during the wedding. But she had chalked it off as the best man and bridesmaid thing.
She expected her heart to break into a million pieces like the beaker that had slipped from her grasp in the lab. Her eyes to fill with the oh so familiar tears. But she was surprised to feel just resignation. Finally, here was her proof that Sherlock was interested in women but wasn't interested in her.
It was the final nail in the coffin.
All those dates failed because she could compare each of them to Sherlock. Naturally, it wasn't even a competition. Sherlock was the best. And her heart refused to let go of the hope that someday he would be hers. He had never rejected her. He seemed to just misinterpret her advances. But now the hope was extinguished. For good.
"Okay" was all she said.
"I'll text you the details" he said and proceeded to get up from the sofa.
Molly didn't though. He would close the door behind him.
She heard him put on his coat and scarf and the door open. He paused. He walked back to her and stood in front of her. He bent down and kissed her forehead before leaving.
It was then that the tears came.
She cried for what seemed to be like years. Until there was no water left in her body to shed. Toby sensed something was wrong and settled on her lap. He began to purr.
Finally, when she was blankly looking at the wall she dried her eyes.
She got up and washed her face. Hunting for her phone in her over sized handbag she finally found it.
Meena had once again tried to set up a date for her. She had sworn that Molly would like him instantly.
What was she going to lose?
She dialed the number.
"Hello, Tom?"
AN: The End? Let me know. :)