Thanks M Sherlock for beta'ing.
'You're hardly gonna need me around now that you've got a real baby on the way'.
Sherlock thought about his words from a few minutes earlier to John and Mary as he searched the dance floor for someone to dance with and get his mind off of things. That bridesmaid from earlier seemed to have found a partner, and Molly was dancing with her fiancé, of course.
A sense of loneliness washed over him. Mycroft was right. Things were going to change now, how could they not?
John and Mary were married and expecting a child of their own. He could hardly expect them to pander to his every whim in the future. John would no longer be at his beck and call when it came to solving crimes. On the one occasion he had gone out with Molly to solve crimes, she had been more than an adequate substitute, making intelligent deductions of her own. They had been really in sync, actually. Unfortunately, once he realized she was engaged, he knew that was not going to work.
He walked to the music stand and placed the music in an envelope that read Dr and Mrs Watson. He placed the envelope on the stand and headed towards the door. He retrieved his coat from just inside the door and walked outside, swinging it over his shoulders and fastening it. Then he went to the fountain and stood silently, looking down at it.
It was too dark to see beneath the surface of the water now, but he remembered earlier seeing there were a few coins in it. On an impulse he fished out his wallet and picked up a 1p coin, then changed his mind and took out a £1 coin. Perhaps a bigger denomination would make it more likely that his wish would come true.
He closed his eyes and thought, I don't want to be alone anymore, then tossed the coin into the fountain. The coin made a very soft splash as it hit the surface and sank.
Sentiment is a chemical defect found in the losing side. The words came back to him as if to mock him. For so long he had said the words and thought them true. This evening though, he had had to confront the fact that John and Mary were very happy and that perhaps his views on sentiment had been flawed. People around him were engaged or married, and here he was, destined to be alone for the rest of his life. It had never really hit him until tonight.
The sound of voices roused him from his silent reverie. He remained by the fountain, standing still so he would not be observed. A man's voice was saying, "I should've listened to my gut when you kept putting off our wedding. I knew there was someone else, I just knew it." The voice sounded familiar.
Then a voice he definitely recognized responded, "I'm sorry Tom. I never meant to hurt you. You deserve better than me." It was Molly.
"Yeah I do, don't I? Well, you can bloody well find your own way home."
Sherlock heard the sound of retreating footsteps and turned around to see Molly sitting on the steps before the entrance. Her head was down over her folded forearms which were around her knees, and he knew, by the hunch of her shoulders and slight movement, that she was crying.
Should I go to her? he wondered, chewing on his lower lip.
Then he decided it would be the right thing to do. They were friends after all, or at least they had been. He wasn't really sure if they were anything at the moment because he had avoided her for the most part over the last several months.
Hesitantly he walked towards her. "Molly?"
She looked up and his heart ached for her, as tears continued to stream down her cheeks. "Sherlock, I thought you'd gone."
He was a little surprised that she'd noticed him leave. "Not yet, but soon. I'm not planning on going back in." He sat down beside her.
She gave him a wobbly smile. "You've never been much of a people person, so that doesn't surprise me."
He nodded his agreement. "That's true. I tend to be rather selective when it comes to choosing my friends, and people with whom I wish to associate." His lips quirked in a self-deprecating manner. "You are definitely more equipped to deal with social interactions however, so why are you outside?"
"Tom and I just broke off our engagement."
"Why are you crying over it?" he asked tentatively, furrowing his brow slightly. "I didn't mean to eavesdrop, but it seems to me like you were the one who ended it."
She sighed heavily. "I was, but it's still hard. I've had to resign myself to the fact that I'm always going to be alone."
Alone, he thought. That word again.
Her arms were still hugging her knees and she looked cold. It was getting chilly outside, after all, and she hadn't even put on her cardigan. Without really thinking about it, Sherlock unbuttoned his Belstaff and placed it around her shoulders, earning a grateful look from her. Surprisingly she slid her arms into the sleeves. "Why do you think you'll always be alone?" he questioned, looking at her face searchingly. "You're not like me. You're friendly, sweet, trustworthy. Any man would be lucky to have you."
Molly gave a choked laugh, folding her arms inside the oversized coat around her once again. He could only see the tips of her fingers peeking through the end of the sleeves. "Tell that to the one man who will never want me, has never wanted me," she said in a low voice, staring off into the darkness.
Sherlock was confused. Who on earth would turn down this lovely woman?
She was intelligent, attractive, and a devoted friend, as well as someone who possessed the attributes he had already assigned to her verbally.
"Well, tell me who he is then," he said in a decisive manner. "I'll knock some sense into him." Molly didn't deserve to be alone. He deserved it, because of the kind of person he was. He pushed people who cared for him away. Molly herself had once been one of those people. But he was determined to make things right for her if he could do so.
"Oh my God, Sherlock. You really can't see the forest for the trees, can you?" She raised her head to stare directly at him.
"I fail to see what some silly saying has to do with me," he said a little peevishly, drawing his brows together. He was only trying to help her after all. Isn't that what friends were supposed to do?
She narrowed her eyes at him. "You really have no clue, do you?" she asked.
He ran a hand through his hair. "I'm sorry, Molly. I'm trying to be your friend. I want you to be happy. As I told you a few months ago, you deserve it."
Abruptly she stood. "I need to take a walk."
"Would you like me to accompany you? It is rather dark out here, and who knows what kind of assailant might be in hiding, just waiting to accost an unsuspecting person, especially in light of the events earlier this evening."
Molly laughed derisively at that. "You see crime around every corner, don't you?"
Sherlock helped Molly to her feet then held out his hand to her, which she took, after pulling up the sleeve of the long coat. "Perhaps," he agreed with a shrug. "But better safe than sorry."
They walked around the gardens in silence for a few minutes and finally ended up standing in front of the fountain where Sherlock had stood earlier, making his wish. They were still holding hands and it felt - comforting somehow.
Finally Molly spoke. "Do you ever get the feeling that sometimes you have set your life on a path and you're stuck following it, even when you realize it's the wrong one?" She glanced up at him, before returning her gaze to the dark water in front of them. "I wasted so many months trying to convince myself I could be happy with Tom, instead of breaking it off as soon as I realized that my feelings for him weren't as strong as they should have been. I shouldn't have led him on like that, giving him false hope when in my heart I knew I had made a mistake."
Sherlock considered her words. "It's not a pleasant thought, Molly, but I have this terrible feeling from time to time that we might all just be - human."
"She looked at him, "Even you?"
"No. Even you."
Molly sighed. "I know that all too well, Sherlock. Sometimes I wish I was more like you, able to separate myself from my emotions. You're so single-minded, dedicated to what you do. You don't let sentiment get in the way of doing your work. You're always so calm, never afraid. I, on the other hand, am always afraid of what the future holds. I'm scared of being alone for the rest of my life."
"Then, as I said before, let me go to this git and knock some sense into him. You shouldn't be alone."
"Well, knock yourself out then, Sherlock."
Knock yourself out. He knew it meant to do his best and waited to hear more information about this total git who didn't appreciate his Molly. Thirty seconds went by and she said nothing. Sherlock began to grow impatient. "Well?" he demanded, shifting his stance from one foot to the other. "Aren't you going to at least give me a name?"
Molly rolled her eyes at him and pulled her hand away from his."I said knock yourself out. I thought that was perfectly clear." She gave him an inpatient shove and Sherlock lost his balance, flailing his arms momentarily before falling into the water at the base of the fountain. Fortunately the water was not very deep so it didn't reach further than his waist, as his bum rested on the bottom, but it was uncomfortably cold.
"Oh my God, I'm so sorry, Sherlock. I didn't realize you were standing so close to the edge," Molly said remorsefully. She extended a hand to him and he allowed himself to be pulled up. He thought briefly of returning the favour, but decided that would be cruel. It had not been intentional, after all, and she was already having a bad night.
Then as he stood there, dripping from the waist down, he was hit with a flash of insight. He should knock himself out, because he was the man who didn't want her, would never want her. He looked at Molly searchingly. "Is it me?" he asked hesitantly, hardly able to believe it could be true. "Am I the git?"
Molly looked away, avoiding his gaze, then began to swipe downwards on his legs, as if she could dry the fabric with her bare hands. "Of course it's you, Sherlock, it's always been you," she said in a voice that was barely above a whisper.
Sherlock could feel his heart thudding in his chest. He tried to remain calm as he said, "I think we are going to need more than your bare hands to dry me off."
She pressed her lips together, before responding, "You're right, of course you are. I'll go to the kitchen and get some towels." He could hear the note of tension in her voice as she turned and went back into the reception hall.
While she was gone, he tried to put his thoughts in order. He had been standing there by the fountain, feeling lonely. He had made a wish to not be that way. Almost as soon as he had thrown the coin, Molly had turned up. She had also confessed to being afraid of being alone. Perhaps neither of them needed to be alone?
Molly obviously cared for him a great deal. How did he feel about her? Was he ready to be more than a friend to her?
His thoughts were still in confusion as she reappeared, walking quickly towards him, holding a stack of towels.
Molly said nothing at first, but just started to wipe his legs, more successfully this time with the towels. He stood patiently, watching her at her task, making no move to do anything himself. Of course, he would definitely need a change of clothes to really feel comfortable, but this clearly was not an option right now. Then she said, "Take off your shoes and socks and I'll try to dry those as well."
Sherlock did as he was told, and he suddenly realized how good it felt to have someone taking care of him. This was not someone treating him like a petulant child, but someone who really cared about him, as a man, and it felt good. But it wasn't just that. It was because Molly was the one doing it – Molly, the one woman who mattered the most to him, who had always counted, and who he counted on as well.
She finally finished, and stood. "That's the best I can do for now. I suppose you should go home and get changed. I'm going to take these towels back to the kitchen. Again, I am so sorry."
Sherlock flashed her a smile and prevented her departure by placing a hand on both of her shoulders. "Perhaps it was just what I needed, to know what I wanted."
Her eyes searched his face hesitantly. "What do you want?"
Even as the words came out, he knew they were absolutely true, that they had always been true, even though he had tried to deny them for so long. "You."
He bent his head then and kissed her, feeling the sweetness of her lips for the first time, and it was like coming home. Her hands crept up to gently touch his hair and it was wonderful. He forgot the discomfort of his wet clothes as a warmth like nothing he had ever felt before spread through him.
His hands dropped to Molly's waist to pull her closer. She was probably getting wet too, but made no sound of discomfort. His mind vaguely registered the fact that she had discarded the coat at some point - perhaps when she had gone inside to get the towels?
They were still kissing, when he was alerted to a sudden disturbance and the sound of voices. "I'm telling you, John, I saw Molly come in wearing Sherlock's coat, and then a couple minutes later, she was holding a bunch a towels and his coat was nowhere in sight. Something has happened."
With a slight sigh if discontent, Sherlock reluctantly released Molly and stepped back from her as he heard John's voice. "There he is, by the fountain, and isn't that Molly with him?"
Sherlock noticed that the front of Molly's dress was now damp, thanks to their close embrace. She looked nervous and he took her hand then turned to face the oncoming newlyweds.
Mary was the first one to reach them, and Sherlock saw her glance at the discarded towels, his bare feet and the damp nature of his lower half. "I'm guessing you fell into the water?" She questioned, then narrowed her eyes, obviously spotting that Molly's dress was also damp and that they were holding hands. "And were the two of you out here alone?"
John reached them as well at that point and put in, "Yeah, and why was Molly wearing your coat?"
Molly spoke first. "It was my fault. Sherlock and I were having a conversation and I accidentally pushed him into the fountain."
"And presumably, one thing led to another and you ended up kissing?" Mary inquired, with a shrewd look and arching an eyebrow.
John looked horrified. "Sherlock, how could you? Molly is an engaged woman!"
Of course it had to be my fault, Sherlock thought dryly, rolling his eyes.
He was about to respond, but Molly beat him to it.
"He didn't do anything wrong, John. I called off my engagement tonight. I realized once and for all that I couldn't marry Tom, not when I was still in love-" she stopped and blushed.
Sherlock turned his head to look at her in astonishment. She really loved him?
She had admitted to wanting him, but that didn't necessarily mean love. "You really love me?" It was rather hard to believe. He wasn't a particularly lovable person. He rubbed people up the wrong way, acting superior to most of them. How could she possibly love him?
Her fingers tightened on his. "Of course I love you, you ridiculous man," she said, repeating his own self-deprecating words from his best man speech. Then she looked at Mary and said, "I said to him earlier that he can't see the forest for the trees."
Mary laughed. "I always thought there was something a bit off between you and Tom. Now I understand why."
John folded his arms and gave Sherlock a stern glance. "I'll just say one thing, Sherlock. Molly is my friend as well as yours, and if you hurt her in any way, I'll be banging down the door to your flat and beating you up."
Sherlock cringed slightly. "I have no intention of hurting her. After I talked with you earlier, I realized I didn't want to be alone, and now I know that I don't need to be." He looked at Molly. "You know how unacquainted I am with sentiment, but I seem to be feeling an excessive amount of it right now for you."
She gave him a lovely smile and he felt that he really wanted to kiss her again, if only John and Mary would give them some time to be alone.
Mary grinned at him. "That sure sounds like love, Sherlock. I wanted you to come back inside, but I can see that you are probably not in the right state to do that." She turned to John. "Come on, husband, let's go and leave Sherlock and Molly to explore this new aspect of their relationship." She gestured at the towels, and John obediently picked them up, like the dutiful husband he was.
"Enjoy your sex holiday," Sherlock said with a sly smile and was rewarded with an elbow to his ribs from Molly for his comment, which he supposed he deserved.
"Thank you, John and Mary, and I hope you have a wonderful honeymoon." Molly stressed the word honeymoon, then added, to Sherlock's embarrassment, "I think I'm going to have to teach Sherlock some manners if we are going to explore our relationship further."
John chuckled and addressed his best friend. "I take back what I said about beating you up. I think Molly is quite capable of looking after herself." With those words, he turned and walked back to the reception hall with Mary.
Sherlock watched them until they disappeared inside, then looked at Molly. "So, are we going to explore our relationship further now?"
"Don't you want to go home and get changed?"
"Will you come back to Baker Street with me, so we can examine things there?" he asked hopefully.
Molly gave him a nervous look. "Exactly how far are you planning on examining things with me? Because if you think I'm that type of girl…"
"Of course I don't," he assured her hastily. "But you wouldn't object to us kissing some more, would you? I think I would like to dwell on that aspect for quite some time."
Molly laughed. "I am quite prepared to kiss you as much as you would like."
"Good. One for the road, then?" Without waiting for an answer he pulled her close to enjoy for the second time, the sweetness of her lips against his. Warmth settled over him again and a feeling of rightness. His heartbeat accelerated as he continued to kiss her, silently analyzing this new facet of their relationship, one that he was almost certain would last a lifetime.
When their lips parted once more, he looked into her eyes and said, "I think I love you, Molly Hooper."
Her answering gentle smile showed that she understood, that these feelings were still new, but that there was a promise in them. And it was enough, for now. "And I know I love you."
"You'll come back to Baker Street with me for a cup of tea and more kissing?"
She linked arms with him and they started walking together. "Tea and kissing? How can I turn down an offer like that?"
I'm not going to be alone anymore, he thought with a sudden sense of wonder, smiling down at the woman who had always mattered the most to him, and her answering smile dazzled him.
It was a new beginning - for both of them.
Author's note: I hope you enjoyed the next installment of my Realizations of Love Dreams series.
I have been trying to italicize these stories to show that they are dreams, but I keep forgetting to do it when I am proofreading, and it is such a pain to have to go through it yet again, that I am not going to bother. I feel it is easier to read plain text anyway. In any case, the whole dream is set as if it is an AU.
So please read and enjoy, and of course, I would love to hear from you as the reader, to know what you think of this particular dream.
Did you catch the little bit of canon I inserted? Show how clever you are by naming it in your review!