Hello, guys! Ok, this is a new thing I'm trying… a selection of stories based on different episodes of FRIENDS. I hope you enjoy it and feel free to recommend an episode you'd like to see, always welcome. Enjoy ;p
Series 5 Episode 1 – The One After John says Mary (The One After Ross says Rachel)
John Watson smiled as he stared at the beautiful face in front of him, his Italian fiancée, Amalia. They were about to be married in her native Venice, the most romantic city in the world in John's opinion, surrounded by friends and family. John was supported by his two best men, Sherlock Holmes and Greg Lestrade, as well as his step-sister, Molly Hooper – her mother married his father when they were both young and John had developed a strong feeling of protection for her - some bridesmaid Greg was trying to get off with and John's ex-girlfriend Mary Morstan. There was a time John wished he was sharing this moment with Mary rather than Amalia but that was a long time ago. Even as Mary had apparently rushed in from London just to 'congratulate' him; she had been adamant she wasn't going to come, insisting she'd stay and care for Mrs. Hudson. When Mary had rushed in, though, John had been overwhelmed to see her, happy she was here to share his moment.
John glanced quickly past his bride and noticed Molly was staring at something behind him intently…and somewhat hungrily, her red dress clinging to her in a most flattering way. John felt uncomfortable and wished he had persuaded Amalia to rethink the bridesmaid outfits; little did he know just how much it was appreciated by a certain detective, however. He was pulled from his thoughts by a voice speaking, calm and slowly.
"Now, repeat after me…'I, John...'
John took Amalia's hands, smiling widely. She returned the smile, beaming brightly, her long red hair falling over her shoulders. Molly breathed out dreamily, happy for her brother and secretly annoyed she was alone. She swivelled her eyes around the hall and sighed softly at its breath-taking beauty; the architecture was intricate, beautiful and ancient. The design wasn't the only gorgeous sight to be seen; if only Molly had been prepared for how good Sherlock looked in a suit and tie.
"I, John…"
"Take thee, Amalia…"
John was staring dreamily at Amalia, lost in his thoughts. Greg turned and gave Sherlock a wink, but he was far too busy staring at his best friend's sister and taking in every visual detail. Hmmm, I would be lying to myself if I said I do not want a repetition of the previous night's events. However, if John knew of the thoughts I was entertaining regarding his little sister. Amalia glanced towards the floor awkwardly, apparently shy. John's father smiled brightly whilst Molly's mother dabbed at her eyes, her free arm linked with her husband's. Amalia's parents were smiling brightly as they sat up straight and proud.
"Take thee, Mary…"
After a split second of dumbstruck glances, shocked gasps erupted from people's lips around the hall; Molly dropped her smile, Greg turned back to Sherlock and winced whilst shook his head, half with dread and half from returning from his 'mind palace'. Mary was certain she had misheard but, from the looks of several Italians on Amalia's side of the hall, she couldn't have. Mary swallowed and sunk into her seat, trying desperately trying to ignore people's looks. Amalia herself, however, looked heartbroken and furious whilst the minister stood, perplexed. It took John only a few seconds to realise his mistake.
"Amalia…"
He gave a few nervous laughs, before attempting to take her hands. She shoved him off, elbowed him in the ribs and ran off down the altar, crying as she left the room with her long dress billowing around her. Her father stood up and approached John threateningly but after a shout from his wife, took off after Amalia. John, doubled over in pain, began calling out for her as best as he could.
"Amy…Ames'…wait up…"
John, winded though he was, attempted to follow her, apologising to the crowd as he went. After a few moments of stunned silence, Greg clapped his hands together nervously before speaking in hushed tones to Sherlock, Molly and the remaining bridesmaid.
"Well, that…uh, that went well…"
Sherlock nodded whilst Molly swallowed, staring at the floor in embarrassment for her brother. The bridesmaid, however, had whipped her phone out and was speaking in rapid Italian to someone at the other end.
"Oh, yes, I do believe it could not have gone more smoothly. Although, I do think it would have been less painful to physically harm her…"
His voice was harsh and sarcastic as he glanced towards the end of the hall. Soon, they cleared from the hall when it became apparent John and Amalia were not returning. They were moved into a room where a buffet table had been set out; balloons and banners decorated the walls and chairs were placed around the edge of the large floor, leaving a space to serve as the dance floor. John and Amalia had not arrived yet but some guests had sat themselves around while others simply stood around chatting, a mixture of English and Italian filling the room. Greg dragged the bridesmaid into the middle of the room and began to twirl and spin her, even though the DJ was yet to play the music. Sherlock rolled his eyes. Apparently, someone ignored rule number one: no alcohol before the ceremony. The DJ had finished his preparation and was currently playing some pop rubbish that John was fond of. Molly had moved to the other side of the room, sipping a glass of champagne whilst she waited for her brother to return. Watching her every movement closely, Sherlock frowned deeply when a tall, handsome man approached her with a look in his eyes that Sherlock recognised only too well. He too had a glass of champagne and, judging by the way he swayed when he walked, it was not his first. Sherlock moved within earshot – effectively hiding behind one of the pillars in the large room - as the man dipped his head low to speak in Molly's ear. She cringed from the feel of his breath on her neck, attempting to push him away.
"Ehi, splendida, voglia di un buon tempo?"
Sherlock scowled, his hands clenching into fists. Translation: Hey, gorgeous, want a good time? Bastard, he should have more respect. Before Molly could say anything, Sherlock had appeared from behind the pillar. He shoved the man away from Molly with such force, he staggered backwards and struggled to regain his balance. Sherlock took Molly's arm and was pulling her away from the pervert, and shaking his head in his direction.
"I would watch out for him, I believe he is the one who made the comment about you being John's mother last night…"
Molly grimaced as she knocked back her champagne.
"Please don't remind me."
Sherlock smiled and stopped her at the edge of the room, partially covered by darkness and very discreet. Molly had taken another glass from the tray of a passing waiter; she had a feeling she was going to need it. Sherlock watched her with interest, licking his lips subconsciously and smirking. He was about to comment that it was thanks to that Italian that Molly had shared his bed - and body heat - last night, before he was interrupted by John returning with Mary and Amalia's father at his side. Amalia's father spoke something to John before hurrying over to his wife. Molly, Sherlock and Greg approached John cautiously, each wondering the same thing: where is the bride? Of course, Sherlock knew but felt it inappropriate for a deduction right now.
"Well?"
John had grabbed a drink of champagne and was shaking his head furiously. Once he had drained his glass, he spoke rather hurriedly.
"She's gone. Scarpered from the bathroom window, I'm going to go look for her…straighten things out. If not…I've lost my fiancée…my world."
Molly bit her lip whilst John bustled over to inform his father and stepmother of the development before hurrying out of the room with Amalia's father in tow. Sighing, the wedding party continued with their awkward chatter and drunken dancing, Italian and English slurs echoing the walls. A few moments later, Sherlock had approached the buffet table, wrinkling his nose in apparent disgust over their choice of food, his eyes roaming over the selections. He heard a faint shuffling from behind him but didn't look around, almost 100% sure as to whom was making the shuffling noises.
"Sherlock…I need to…can we…we talk about last night?"
Sherlock stilled but didn't remove his eyes from the food. Molly was fiddling with the glass in her hands, another refilled one. She is a nervous drinker. Understandable, given the circumstances. Sherlock breathed out before his deep voice answered her, still focused down at the food.
"I do not see there is any need. It was inevitable with the amount of alcohol consumed and undeniable beauty of both this city and yourself…although, it should not have happened."
Sherlock faintly saw her nodding out of the corner of his eye and disappointment filled him, as much as he tried to deny it. Molly moved so she was standing next to him now and Sherlock avoided looking at her. Molly was also doing the same, picking up a plate, as well as letting out a deep sigh.
"God, it was good, though…"
Sherlock stared intently at the plates in front of him as he bit back the smile threatening to spread across his face. Good is certainly an understatement Molly, my dear. His answer was breathy and more seductive than he had anticipated.
"So good…"
Molly was doing her best to look casual, despite her legs feeling like jelly and her heart hammering in her chest. She waved her hand dismissively as she continued.
"Although, you're right, a mistake. A simple, easily forgotten mistake that happened once…"
Sherlock raised an eyebrow although Molly could not see and breathed out, "Twice, I think you'll find."
Molly raised the glass to her lips, a small smile tugging at them, before whispering, "Three times, actually."
Sherlock bit back a smirk as he turned a little towards her, "I recall six?"
Molly now smiled to herself and looked at her shoes before slyly adding, "Seven, I think we finished on."
Sherlock couldn't help but smile as he recalled their night of extreme passion. He looked at her properly for a moment - she was beaming into her glass, her plate still empty - before looking back at the food. Molly cleared her throat and placed her glass on the table in front of her.
"We probably shouldn't bring…whatever this is back to London, though. Too complicated…"
Sherlock nodded slowly, a small sigh escaping him as he did so.
"Indeed. Rather not have the publicity...or the endless interrogations."
He grimaced and Molly shifted closer in order to whisper in his ear. Sherlock supressed a shiver as Molly's breath tickled his neck.
"We had better make the most of it whilst we are here, then."
Sherlock turned slightly, catching sight of her mischievous, and lust-filled, look and the way she was chewing her lip. Sherlock swallowed, slightly dazed, before nodding again. He looked around before speaking equally quietly to her.
"I happened to notice a larder downstairs. It looks rather satisfactory…and discreet."
Molly licked her lips slowly before moving closer, if possible, to his ear. Sherlock narrowed his eyes and gave a small smirk. If she continues with her alluring movements, there will be some rather traumatised guests at this 'wedding'.
"Give me five minutes…"
With one last look, Sherlock threw his still empty plate onto the table and practically ran in the direction of the exit. Molly reached into her purse to reapply her make-up, her shaking hands fumbling with the zips. Her whole body was aching with anticipation but her excitement was short-lived, however, as Mary approached her quickly.
"Mols, can I talk to you?"
Molly bit her lip, glancing to the door behind her friend. She groaned impatiently.
"Um…now's not really a good time, actually…"
Mary wasn't listening and was shifting uncomfortably on her feet.
"About earlier, do…you think it means something?"
Molly continued searching through her bag, distracted from Mary's words.
"Er, no…I shouldn't think so…it could have been anyone…look, I've got to go."
Molly was about to walk away to but Mary stopped her once more.
"Maybe I should just talk to John…"
Molly gave a frustrated sigh before turning back to her friend.
"Mary, trust me, that's not a good idea…he's trying to repair his relationship…if you can't see how in love with Amalia he is, then I cannot help you, I'm afraid. Now, if you'll excuse me…there's someone I've got to do…"
Molly bustled off out of the room, smoothing her dress and fixing her hair as she did so. Mary blinked rapidly for a moment. Surely she meant something. Poor horny girl, getting her words confused. Mary thought to herself for a moment before sliding off in the other direction with an irritated sigh. Greg and his bridesmaid had finished dancing now and were talking low in a corner. She soon lowered her head to his and his face lit up immediately. She wandered off and Greg approached Amalia's mother, gesturing wildly with his hands.
"STRAWBERRIES. DO…YOU…HAVE…ANY?"
Amalia's mother blinked at him before frowning, her hands on her hips.
"Yes, we do. They are on the table over there. There is no need to shout, Inspector, my hearing is fully functioning."
Greg, red-faced and apologetic, sidled towards the table. He was not aware Amalia's mother spoke perfect English, although her strong Italian was still evident. Amalia's mother watched him with interest as he poured all the strawberries into a bucket and gave her a nervous grin before making a hasty exit.
Molly arrived at the top of the stairs, stopping to refresh her lipstick and straighten her hair. After ensuring everything was in place, she hurried down the stairs, almost crashing into Sherlock who had been waiting, somewhat impatiently, at the bottom. Sherlock smirked as his eyes swept over Molly's body and she felt the familiar sensation of butterflies. What's the big deal? You've already shagged him…but God, look at him…
"That really wasn't necessary…" Molly blinked in confusion but her silent question was soon answered. Sherlock released a short, sharp breath, trying to regain his thoughts, "the lipstick…it is…nice, of course, but I think people will notice when I start wearing it…"
Molly rolled her eyes and smiled. She moved closer to Sherlock until they were inches apart. She leaned against the wall with one arm resting next to Sherlock's shoulder.
"Well, I love a challenge…"
Without another word, Molly had wrenched the door open and stepped inside. Sherlock had been about to follow her inside when she whipped around and grasped his tie, pulling him roughly inside. Sherlock began to question why he had argued with John about the wretched item in the first place. Sherlock was about to shove Molly onto the table when a voice made them both turn around.
"Oh, hey. You guys don't know where they keep the cream, do you?"
Greg had been searching and, at first, failed to notice the doors swing open and Sherlock and Molly fall inside. When they failed to answer, he turned, frowning and glancing at them suspiciously.
"What are you two doing down here, anyway?"
"Uh…looking for John."
Sherlock was too busy scowling at Greg to confirm but Molly smiled confidently. Greg nodded and continued searching, the sounds of cluttering objects filling the room.
"I think he went upstairs."
Sherlock grinned suddenly, turning to Molly who had been fiddling with her hands. Their eyes met as he spoke, quickly and deeper than usual.
"I believe that is where we shall find him…if we search thoroughly enough."
Molly shivered and pulled him by his tie out of the larder before Greg had even looked up. Hurrying upstairs, Sherlock and Molly fell into the room she shared with Mary only to discover she was sat on the bed, deep in thought.
"Oh, hey guys. Have you seen John?"
Sherlock shook his head quickly, a deep frown on his face. His patience was wearing thin now, and there wasn't much time left. He glanced at Molly who was shifting uncomfortably on her feet, equally eager for just one moment alone with Sherlock. Sherlock looked at Mary, speaking rather aggressively.
"No, I suggest you keep looking and he'll turn up. Goodbye now…"
Mary shook her head, a confused look on her face. As Mary reached for her bag, Sherlock placed the hand closest to Molly on her back, causing her to gasp and shiver. Mary looked up at the sound and was greeted with two awkward, and incredibly fake, smiles. Pulling out a card, Mary gave a triumphant 'yes' before shaking her head firmly.
"I don't think so. I'm staying right here in case he calls or comes back. He might need me. Fancy a drink…or room service?"
Mary gestured towards her minibar, only to turn back to frantically shaking heads once more. Sherlock moved his hand downwards slowly, smoothing circles on Molly's back. She swallowed before answering rather quickly.
"Uh, no thanks, Mary. I think we'll head back downstairs…after…we…I just remembered I've left something…somewhere"
Mary barely had time to register what Molly had said before they hurried out of the room. Shrugging, she smiled fondly at the Pimms she was pouring, sighing contentedly.
Sherlock pushed the door open and glanced around. At last, peace and quiet…at least for now. Smirking, he stepped aside to allow her to enter the room. Molly bustled inside, blushing and trembling in anticipation. Sherlock shut the door quickly behind her and locked it, turning to face her, lust clear in his expression. Molly gazed dreamily as he moved towards her. His hand brushed her cheek softly, causing her to shiver.
"Molly, you are-"
She pushed his hand away fiercely, gripping his shirt tightly. Her voice was breathy and was delivered through gritted teeth.
"Not now."
With a smirk, Sherlock's hands were pushing down the straps of her dress hurriedly whilst Molly's attacked the buttons of his shirt. They were breathing heavily with anticipation and excitement. Unfortunately, and unsurprisingly, their moment was cut short.
"Sherlock? Oi, let me in…"
A huff of frustration left Sherlock as he hurried towards the door, refusing to set his shirt straight just yet. He pulled the door open to the chain and Lestrade frowned.
"What are you playing at? Let me in!"
Sherlock ran a hand through his messy hair and breathed a sigh of frustration. When he spoke, his teeth were gritted.
"I thought you had left to 'bang' that bridesmaid, as you put it?"
Lestrade was quiet for a moment before Sherlock heard him swallow.
"Uh…she's here, actually. We decided to watch a movie…"
Sherlock turned back to Molly who was rearranging her dress and slipping her shoes back on. Sherlock sighed and tended to himself before angrily pulling the door open for Lestrade and his bridesmaid, who shot him an irritated look as she stepped inside.
"Do you two want to join us?"
Lestrade was glancing between Sherlock and Molly as he removed his tie and threw himself on the bed, gesturing for the bridesmaid to do the same. Pure desperation, lust and want caused Sherlock to answer somewhat aggressively.
"No, there is currently something far more interesting I'd like to…do."
He spoke rapidly as he was being pulled out of the room roughly by Molly, for the third time that night. Lestrade shrugged as the door slammed behind them, flicking through several movies and choosing one and shoving it into the player.
Of all the rooms here... Not caring anymore, Sherlock practically kicked the door open leading to the honeymoon suite. It was the only place he could think of that would be completely empty. The bed before them was huge and decorated in different flowers and assorted pillows.
"You know, I'm not sure about this. It just doesn't feel right…I mean, it was meant for John and Amalia…"
Sherlock raised his eyebrows as he turned to face Molly. He examined her for a moment, licking his lips and taking a deep breath.
"I think it is safe to say, they will not be using it…" he stepped forwards, eyes locked with Molly's "…it is only right that someone should…" a smirk was visible on Sherlock's face now and Molly's lips had parted, "a wedding after all…surely must end with this…does it matter who?"
Molly swallowed as she gently but firmly placed her hands on Sherlock's chest, feeling his rapid breathing and tracing his muscles. She looked up at him, biting her bottom lip, fully aware now exactly what it did to him. Chewing on her lip, Molly gave a quick nod and they moved hastily over to the bed and began ripping off the many layers. The doors swung open and John stood, looking confused between the flustered pair.
"What are you-"
"Waiting for Amalia, in case she comes back."
John frowned at Sherlock, not satisfied with his answer but also not wanting to get into another dispute, nodding his head and sitting at the edge of the bed with his lips pursed. Seeing no way out, Sherlock and Molly took to sitting either side of John, comforting him and offering small words of advice even though their minds were occasionally drifting to various different parts of the previous night, particularly what drove the other into frenzied desire.
Soon enough, John was fast asleep, sprawled between them. Sherlock glanced at the clock and released a deep sigh, turning slightly towards Molly. She appeared to be deep in thought, often sighing dreamily.
"We have to leave for London shortly. We do not have long."
Molly shook as she came out of her fantasy. She faced forwards as she answered, a small smile on her lips.
"I have been looking at those doors and an idea had occurred to me. What do you reckon?"
Sherlock smirked as he turned to face her, his eyes completely blackened once more. Hmmm, the doors are rather thick, indeed, but not thick enough. However, I am not stupid…so I will not mention this. He traced his lips with his tongue as his eyes carefully glided over her, supressing a shiver as he did so.
"Oh, Molly, you're a bad girl…"
Molly was already shifting John's legs gently as she turned and gave him a wink. She mouthed 'only for you' at him, shooting him another more seductive wink. Sherlock hastily focused his attention on moving John's still frame from him so he could therefore drag Molly into the next room and exploring her delicately. Just as John was almost completely onto the bed, freeing Sherlock and Molly to ferociously shag in the opposite room, a knock on the door jolted John awake, who immediately ran to answer it whilst shouting Amalia's name frantically. Her parents were the ones standing at the door, though, much to John's disappointment.
"We are sorry, John. She will not answer to us. I suggest we let her calm down and try again later."
John, who was not keen on arguing with Amalia's rather muscly father, settled for seating himself on the sofa in the room. He was muttering to himself and rocking in the chair. Amalia's parents nodded towards Sherlock before making a hasty exit. Sherlock frowned as he took it to mean, 'look after John while we bugger off'. He and Molly sat either side of John and comforted him as best as they could.
"Mary's just a friend…Amy understands that…right?"
Sherlock opened his mouth to say something but Molly cut him off sharply.
"Yes…of course she does. She's just had a long day…she'll come around. Look, we've got to go and pack. Will you be ok?"
John nodded as Sherlock and Molly left the room, shoulder slumped and disappointment evident in their faces. John sighed as he reached for his phone. He dialled Amalia's number and left her a message explaining he'd be waiting for the plane to take them on their honeymoon. They could still go and work things out, even if they weren't technically married. I hope she gets it…more importantly, I hope she turns up.
Sherlock was annoyed. They were currently flying home and he had been seated right next to Molly…and they were both frustrated and unsatisfied. Occasionally, one would send a longing glance in the other's direction. This was until Molly had had enough. She turned around and spoke in a low voice.
"Look, I don't care anymore…we are still over foreign waters so I am going to go into the bathroom. Sound good?"
Sherlock opened and closed his mouth for a moment, pictures filling his mind and momentarily distracting him. He nodded and swallowed; his mouth was surprisingly dry.
"Yes…that sounds most pleasing."
Molly beamed and stood up, hurrying in the direction of the bathroom. Sherlock watched her leave with a longing sensation settling in his stomach. He turned back and came face to face with Greg.
"Can I ask you something?" Without waiting for an answer, Greg continued, sitting in Molly's chair, "I was watching that movie…can't remember its name…but I was thinking, what if that's it…I mean-"
Sherlock rubbed his temple as Greg continued mindlessly chattering. He blocked out his words and settled for nodding in random places. What seemed like ages, Molly emerged from the bathroom and seemed more irritated than before. Greg shot her a confused look before slapping Sherlock on the shoulder and nodding at Molly, leaving them to it. The rest of the flight felt like torture, being this close…and unable to touch. They tried avoiding each other for the rest of their journey; Sherlock felt like hitting Greg when he volunteered Sherlock to take Molly home while he went back to 221B to drop Sherlock's things off. They arrived at Molly's flat and he hauled her bags up the flights of stairs, despite her protests.
"Thank you, that was…sweet of you."
Sherlock waved his hand dismissively as Molly opened the door to her flat. They moved inside and Sherlock left the bags by the door. After a long – very long – gaze into each other's eyes, Molly cleared her throat and moved over to her fridge. Sherlock frowned and glanced at the floor. What is the matter with me? Say something…do not leave without saying something…
"We are alone…finally...even if it is too late."
Molly giggled and nodded, rubbing the can she had removed from the fridge across the top of her chest. Sherlock watched as tiny droplets of water slipped down into her dress. Ok, you need to do something, right now…anything…
"Yeah, a…good job we had the 'keep it in Italy' rule…"
Sherlock nodded as he began swinging his arms by his side. He looked up and Molly was looking just as lost. An overwhelming urge was developing in Sherlock's stomach.
"Sherlock…I just wanted to thank you…that was the best night of my life…even if it didn't mean anything…"
Molly was focusing intently on her hands and Sherlock was so shocked he looked up and raised his eyebrows. He rolled his eyes and smirked at her, catching her eyes.
"You were there, Molly, I think you could tell how much it meant to me…means to me…"
Molly beamed and ran over to hug him. She held him tightly and he wrapped his arms around her in response…these were the only words she had wanted to hear. She had been so scared that he was going to dismiss her. Molly released him and gave him an awkward smile. She turned around but didn't get very far, for Sherlock's hand rested on her wrist and spun her around. Molly's lips collided with Sherlock's hungrily and passionately. When she finally allowed him to breathe, Sherlock whispered to her, his forehead resting against hers.
"So, about 'keep it in Italy'…a stupid rule…"
"Hmmm, I agree…now, why don't we put that smart mouth of yours to better use."
Sherlock laughed but the sound was swallowed by Molly's lips attaching to his once more. He began to push her gently backwards in the direction of her bedroom, knocking several things over on their way. It's going to be much interesting from now on, that's for sure.
That was sort of my weird tribute to the show (one of my favourite episodes) :D I hope it wasn't too terrible lol Thank you for reading xx