John and Molly Talk

Disclaimer: I don't own the characters. I love them. Moffatt and Gatiss are effectively writing the best fanfiction in the universe.

This story is set after TRF. It's a one shot, hopefully short and sweet.

SH SH SH SH SH SH SH SH

The staff restaurant at the hospital was quieter than normal. It was however 9pm, so Molly figured that was to be expected. John was already seated at a small table in the corner. He looked up when Molly walked in, smiled sadly and gave a small wave. She was working the night shift tonight, and was already wearing her white lab coat. He looked tired, and almost crumpled.

Molly grabbed two teas and joined him at the table. "Hello John."

John tried smiling again, and Molly winced. It was like John had forgotten how to smile, or the muscles in his face hadn't received much use for a while. "Hello Molly. Thanks for agreeing to meet me."

Molly took the seat opposite him. "Don't be silly. I've missed you." She passed him a cup of tea, and watched as he added 2 sugar sachets to it, then sat stirring it absently mindedly. "I'm glad you called. I wanted to call you, but I really didn't know what to say."

Nodding John finally took a sip of tea and grimaced. "God this is awful, and I though the stuff they called tea in Afghanistan was bad."

Molly noted that John's eyes were sunken slightly. "How have you been?"

He shrugged. "Good days, and bad days. You?"

"Pretty much the same." Molly jumped as the door to the canteen swung open, loudly banging against the door stop. A cleaner appeared pushing a cleaning trolley, and started to mop the floor at the far end of the room.

"I wanted to thank you for the reference, for the job," said John. "I think that really made a difference. That and Greg. But I do appreciate you putting in a good word."

"Don't be silly John. You're a damn fine Doctor. I was glad to let them know about you." Molly sipped her tea. "When do you start?"

"Next week," said John. "It'll be good to have a routine again. Regular hours, being busy. Mrs Hudson has been amazing. She keeps making me food and leaving it in the kitchen. I'm also sure that despite what she says, Mycroft has been paying the rent to her."

Molly nodded.

Silence fell.

"He… Mycroft had the headstone put up a few days ago," John said quickly trying to break the quiet. "Mrs Hudson and I visited, but it still didn't seem real."

"I didn't know," said Molly sadly. "I would have liked to have come with you. I guess Mycroft never really thought I was part of Sherlock's circle of friends." She looked down at her hands. "Well I wasn't really."

"You were always more than that Molly. Don't sell yourself short." John said firmly. "Sher… Sherlock did respect you. More than you know."

Molly smiled. "Thanks John. But we both know, I was just a convenient way to body parts."

"I never could figure out why he came here, on ….… that day." John said sadly. "I always thought that he perhaps came to see you, to say goodbye."

Molly swallowed slowly. "I'm sorry John. I don't know why he came here. I wasn't around. I wish I had been."

"I know."

The room fell silent again, apart from the sounds of the cleaner wiping down tables.

Molly looked at John closely. She needed to change the subject. "John, will you answer me a question?" Molly asked. "Honestly, no lying and no avoiding the subject?"

"That sounds serious," said John slowly.

"Promise?" she persisted.

"If I can," conceded John.

Molly took a deep breath. "I have a friend that would like to meet you. " She held up her hand to stop him talking. "Female, my age, a nurse," she said preempting his questions. "But she asked me a question about you that I couldn't answer. So I want to know….. I have seen you walk into a room and eye up every woman there in one glance. You can't even get groceries without flirting with the shop assistant," said Molly. "I have seen you go out with many different women, including one memorable night at the Barts Christmas Party, when you managed to snog three different nurses. But you have never ever, not even once tried it on with me. I'm not saying I want you to. I just want to know why not? Why not me? "

John froze like a rabbit in headlights. "Is there any way I can out of this?"

"Not unless a meteorite hits in the next 5 seconds, nope. You promised." Molly said. "You tell me the truth, and I'll give you her phone number."

Sighing he looked at her. "There's a long answer and a short answer. Which do you want?"

Molly smiled. "We have all the time in the world. Give me the long answer."

John paused for a moment, collecting his thoughts. Finally he reached across and rested his hand on hers. "Molly, you need to believe me when I say this. You are without doubt an intelligent, sweet, kind and considerate, and also a very attractive woman. In all other circumstances I would, without hesitation, have asked you out, and I would have loved to have captured you under the mistletoe at that Christmas party." John saw her confusion. "But you belonged to Sherlock."

Molly frowned. "What? Don't be silly."

"Let me finish," said John. "When I saw you for the first time, you were bringing Sherlock coffee. To me that showed friendship, possible concern for his wellbeing, at least something there. You cared. He then commented that you'd removed your lipstick. That showed he'd noticed. Most men don't notice these things. Therefore he had looked at you. He'd really looked at you. To me, that meant he was interested in you. Interest on your side and his side - that meant a relationship. At the time I had no idea that Sherlock could be such a tit about such things, and notice everything. But it looked like you already had something going on. That meant you were off limits."

"You are kidding, right?" said Molly incredulously. "You thought all that, from meeting me for what, 10 seconds?"

"Sherlock may have known almost everything else on the planet. But I know women." He shrugged. "You may as well have been wearing a sign saying 'Sherlock's girl'."

Molly let out a long breath. "But that was ages ago. What about when you found out we weren't an item?"

"Oh Molly," said John sadly. "For someone so clever, you really missed the obvious with Sherlock."

Molly looked bewildered, "what did I miss?"

"You never realized. He could work at any hospital in London, but he worked here, at Barts."

"That's because I let him," protested Molly. "The other hospitals banned him."

John shook his head. "Mycroft could have fix that for him in a heart beat if he wanted. No, Sherlock liked working at Barts, because of you. He might have protested and fussed a bit, but he always made a beeline for your lab, your morgue. For you."

Molly stared at her drink. "But he ignored me most of the time. Or he'd say such horrible things. He'd make me feel useless."

"But he turned to you for help to save those kids. He apologized to you that time at our Christmas Party – and I've never seen him apologise to anyone – including Mrs Hudson. He did actually care for you – in his own way and on his own terms." He paused, "I used to think that Sherlock was like a little boy going through puberty. He wanted to speak to the girl and ask her out, but didn't know how, so pulled her pig tails instead. Being mean, just to get a reaction from her – from you." He let go of her hand. "I like you Molly, I always have. But I never tried it on with you, because I know you would never look at me the way you look at him." Molly looked up at him. "And you and I both know you loved him and only him. You always did and I think you still do. Even now. He should have treated you better, Molly," said John unhappily. "But I just think he didn't know how to."

Molly sat quietly for a moment, and John looked over. "Not the answer you were expecting?" he queried.

She shook her head. "No not really. I was expecting something more along the lines, 'you aren't my type.'"

"Ah." Staring at Molly, John felt a very powerful urge to hug her. "I guess with everything recently, I forgot that you are mourning him too. I'm sorry. Are you OK?"

"I will be," said Molly wryly.

"You and I are still friends, aren't we? I like having you for a friend," said John.

"Of course we are still friends, silly." She said smiling sadly. "I never had a brother, but if I did, I wish he was just like you."

John smiled, and for the first time it seemed genuine. "And considering the sister I do have, I wish you were mine too." He leant back in his chair and laughed. "Gosh, what a pair we make. I'm sure my psychiatrist would have a field day with this."

"Really?" said Molly. "In what way."

"You mourning the love of your life, and me mourning the life he made me love again," said John. "I wasn't in a great place when we first met, when I first met Sherlock. I was a soldier without a war, I felt I didn't fit in anymore. But Sherlock's world was exciting – if you could keep up. He made me see the world differently. I never told him, but he did bring me back from the edge."

"I used to think of you as part minder, part babysitter," said Molly. "You did help him though. To be a better person. I noticed that he became more human once you two started living together."

"Yeah, well most people think there was more to that than there was." John shook his head. "I can't even count the number of times people thought we were a couple."

Molly's phone suddenly bleeped, and she read the message quickly. "I'm so sorry John, apparently I'm needed. "

John stood up, "of course. I've kept you long enough. I know you're a busy lady."

She stood up, and then hugged him. "Look I'm free Tuesday night. Do you fancy meeting up? We could get a pizza and watch that new show on TV? I'll come to Baker Street, and you can tell me how the new job is going, and I'll tell you all about my friend Mary."

"I'd like that."

Molly smiled and started to walk for the door. "7pm?"

"Sounds great."

Molly turned to look at John as she left the Restaurant. She could see that John was happier and calmer now. "Take care," she called in parting.

"You too."

SH SH SH SH SH SH

Molly entered the morgue, and was surprised to find it empty. She extracted her phone from her pocket again, to check the message again. Perhaps she was wrong, and was needed in A&E.

"He's wrong you know," said a deep voice from behind the door.

Molly whirled round to see the cleaner standing there. "Good grief! You almost gave me a heart attack." Exclaimed Molly, panting and holding her hand to her chest. "You have to stop doing that Sherlock - It's becoming a habit." She studied his clothes. "I knew that cleaner didn't look familiar."

Sherlock stepped forward removing the wig and beard concealing his features. "I wanted to see him. Is he OK?"

Molly nodded, she wasn't going to lie. "I know it's been difficult for him, but he's getting better."

"Good."

Molly indicated her phone. "Was that you?"

"Yes."

She paused, putting her phone back into her pocket. "So how much of our conversation did you hear?"

"Most of it," said Sherlock. "And he's wrong."

"About what?" she said puzzled.

"About not knowing what to say to you." Sherlock approached her and pulled her into a hug. "I always knew what to say, I was just scared of saying it."

Molly reached up slowly and stroked his cheek. "I am so glad you got over that."

Sherlock kissed her on her forehead tenderly. "John did give me one idea though."

Molly leaned into his chest , resting her head. "Oh yes, what was that?"

"I'd like to see you in pig tails."

SH SH SH SH SH SH SH SH

Thank you very much to everyone who reads this. Please do leave feedback. Good, bad or indifferent. It does make me want to write more!