A/N: First Sherlock fanfic, English is not my native tongue, and this story hasn't been screened by my bèta. My apologies for any mistakes, of which there probably will be plenty. Sherlolly story, my take on how her engagement could have ended. Some sexual suggestions, but no explicit anything, just hints. If that will change, so will the rating.
Written from John's perspective. I have another chapter which is from Molly's perspective and I'm curious to see whether you guys like this and if I should post the next part.
This is story I'll never post online, but if I could this is how I would have written it. I didn't tell write this down before, because I was unsure of how everything would turn out. Maybe this would be a very nice anecdote for their wedding, if he manages not to cock this up.
A week before Molly was going to be married to Tom, her fiancé. Because her apartment had already been cleared out and she simply refused to completely move in before the wedding (she's a bit old fashioned in these sort of things), Mrs. Hudson had been so kind as to offer her my old quarters. This was of course after asking Sherlock permission. Which, as I recall, went in the following fashion;
"Sherlock dear, you wouldn't mind if Molly stayed in John's old room for just a bit, would you now? It's just a few days until the wedding."
Because Sherlock had been so preoccupied by his current case he had not been paying attention, resulting in an absent wave of his hand and a muffled "Sure."
Dear old Mrs. Hudson had recorded their little agreement on her smartphone making Sherlock growl when being confronted with it. After realizing sulking wouldn't help him get anywhere, he was left with no choice but to let Molly stay.
I must mention that I had been slightly baffled by the change I'd observed in Molly towards Sherlock. She used to be the mousy little pathologist that would become butter the moment she was in my friend's presence. Since his return however she'd stopped stuttering and rambling, neither did she appear to be so uncomfortable around him anymore.
The second day of Molly's stay at Baker Street was also the last day she would see Tom before the wedding. Sherlock and I were working on the case of the Redhead association which proved to be very interesting. As usual my friend had taken up playing his violin, while clearing his head and solving the case in the process. I arrived at 221B around noon, the moment I stepped in Tom came storming down the stairs and while I stepped aside to let him pass he rushed out without a word, slamming the door so hard I feared it would break.
I made my way upstairs to hear the familiar sound of Sherlock's bedroom door being slammed shut and was rather surprised to find my friend standing in the living room, in his usual spot for playing his instrument. The thing that surprised me was the way he was standing there, violin and bow in his hands, hanging beside his body. Looking completely flustered and utterly lost, something I hadn't observed in all these years I've spent time with him.
"Sherlock, what did you do this time?" Was my first careful enquiry.
HeHe visibly swallowed and got even more flustered. A red blush, clearly visible on his normally pale skin, was spreading as far as his earlobes. This peculiarity made me even more curious.
"I…" Was all he stammered.
I settled myself down in my old chair and waited, but after a few minutes my annoyance rose and my patience had worn out. Sherlock hadn't moved and inch and still stood there with the same expression.
"Sherlock, tell me what happened or I'll ask Molly, after which I will most likely will be punching you, for being an ass!" I finally exclaimed, not being able to contain myself, feeling he'd done something very stupid.
He closed his eyes for a second and let go of a breath he seemed to have been holding for quite some time. Still holding his violin he let himself collapse on his own chair, immediately starting to study the ceiling he finally answered me, well sort of anyway.
"I was thinking, about how they needed this particular man to be at their office and not at his own place."
"Not about the case, you git! What happened with Molly and Tom?"
My friend bit his lower lip and continued, sounding even less sure of himself than before when he'd only stammered.
"As I said, I was thinking. Molly must have let Tom into the apartment. I stopped playing my violin at a certain moment due to…noises disrupting my thought pattern and then…"
He stopped and continued to stare at the ceiling.
"Yes…?"
"She called my name."
"Molly?"
He nodded slightly.
"Soooo….? Why is that important?"
He sighed.
"Because, she called it during the climax of their coïtus."
"Oh." Was all I managed to bring out.
His mouth had been open, but nothing seemed to follow.
"And?" I asked him, still half in shock.
"And, I heard them arguing for a second, Tom came here, Molly on his heels. She was almost in tears, clutching my sheets to cover herself. He was only half dressed , carrying the rest of his clothes and yelled at me that he should have known and that he hoped I would be good for her. After which he left and she didn't dare to face me, went back into my room and slammed the door. "
By this time I was surprised my jaw hadn't completely landed on the floor, but was unable to reply and just stared at him in unbelief. Eventually he turned angry and almost desperately pleaded with me.
"Dammit John, aren't you going to offer some ridiculous emotional insight that could possibly make this right?!"
After staying silent for a moment after his outburst, contemplating what I could possibly say that could make this any better, I realized what was going to come next. I wasn't disappointed.
"Nothing then?!" He exclaimed while jumping up from his chair and started to pace around like a mad men. "This is all YOUR fault, you know!"
I sighed. "Of course it is."
He stopped only to point a finger in my general direction. "If you hadn't gotten married and moved out she wouldn't have stayed here and used my bed for their fornication!"
"Excuse me, but did you just say 'your bed'?"
"Yes!"
"And why would she feel the need to use your bed? She of all people should know you would…oh. She wanted you to notice. Which brings me back to…What the hell did you do this time?!"
I couldn't imagine Molly would ever go so far unless Sherlock had succeeded in driving her completely out of her mind, which unfortunately was one of his many specialties. Now it was his turn to sigh.
"She just got upset over some insignificant things."
"Oh, just some insignificant things, huh?"
"Precisely."
"SHERLOCK…what…did…you…do?!" I asked through grinded teeth and with very little patience left.
And then it finally came, I hadn't expected him to be so childish about it; because by now he should know that I can look through that façade of his.
"This morning she found me walking around in my sheet and that seemed to frustrate her somehow. Later on I needed to take a shower, but she was already occupying it. Seemed only logical to me to save water and join her, something she didn't seem to appreciate either. After which I needed to find out how much weight the elastic in a pair of knickers could carry so I borrowed some of hers, she then ruined the entire experiment by snatching them away and demanded I got dressed, I obeyed in hopes of lessening her fury, but she growled at my choice of shirt. Even though I am certain that this shirt makes me aesthetically pleasing to look at."
"The shirt, which I think makes you look like an aubergine?"
"You're horrible with colors; it's more of a boysenberry shade. But anyway, I then started playing the violin to assemble my thoughts and she started to slam with doors! You're already aware of the rest, so you must agree that her reaction is rather unreasonable. I merely can't understand her being so fed up with me!"
I simply couldn't take it anymore; this was by far the most unsociable thing to do to a lady friend, even more so because of her upcoming wedding. I pointed at the closed door of his bedroom, the place where she had retreated after Tom's departure.
"You go in there right now, and you fix this, and I mean RIGHT NOW!"
"Why?" He dared to ask me, sounding almost as if I'd insulted him. The urge to strangle him nearly overcame me, but somehow I managed to resist.
"Because…, you insufferable prick, you may not have been entirely aware of what you were doing to her, but I'm telling you now, and you're going in there and take care of this like a man."
His expression turned rather alarmed.
"And how exactly would that be?" His voice containing just the tiniest hint of fear.
"You know, for a genius you can be so daft." I sighed in frustration.
"She's been in love with you for years, but every time she's interested in someone else and tries to move on, you have to ruin it for her."
"I've never…."
"DON'T YOU BLOODY DARE TO DENY IT!"
"But her dating…."
"NO, NO, BLOODY HELL NO!" I couldn't imagine myself being more agitated with him on this subject, especially for being so stupendously blind. Or merely pretending to be, because as much as he denied it, I was pretty sure he was aware, at least on some level, of what he was doing to her.
"You, just don't want her to be with anyone else; And to ensure that you even manipulated the situation in a way that Tom would break things off with her!"
"I did no such thing!" was his exclamation, but his face betrayed him, I knew him long enough to recognize that half-confused, half-insulted look on him.
"No, you just made sure she became as sexually frustrated as she could possibly be and have her ruin her engagement on her own. Does that sound about right?"
Another familiar expression, him sulking, told me it was. I wasn't sure how much Molly would have heard from our conversation, but no matter how angry she was with him right now, I knew that if he would play this right she would forgive him. She was the only woman I think he ever truly trusted, and he sure as hell didn't deserve her. Still, he needed to go in there, apologize and do something about the frustration he'd so unkindly had evoked in her.
I took a quick glance at my watch.
"I'll be back in three hours to make sure she hasn't murdered you, or maybe just help clean up the mess. You better have solved this then, otherwise I will kill you myself."
I closed the door behind me, leaving a mortified Sherlock behind.
A/N: So? Any constructive criticism that would help me improve any of this? Should I upload a second part?