I don't own Sherlock, or any of the wonderful cast, writing – wish I did! Just a drabble – listened to this song yesterday and pictured Sherlock and Molly
His eyes focused on the door- her door. He was reduced to this- staring at her flat, hoping for a glimpse. You blew it mate. . . yes, it was for a case, but you could have pretended to get high. The look in her eyes as she finished the sample, walking over. He stood there, let her slap away, feeling the sarcasm rolling out of his mouth throwing the guilt onto her- his Molly.
How DARE you throw away this gift you have been given, and how dare you throw away the love of your friends!
The tabloids were out and about for him always now, thanks to Janine. Molly wouldn't even look at him anymore when he stopped by her work. It was as if the last years never happened, and they were just people in the same building. He felt awkward, which was not rational. Everything else is transport, he grimaced. How wrong is that? I've become more like that silly country singer song now.
When you're dialing six numbers just to hang up the phone
Driving 'cross town just to see if she's home
When you find the things to do not to fall asleep
'Cause you know she'll be there in your dreams
That's when she's more than a memory
You look like hell and you just don't care
Drinking more than you ever drank
Sinking down lower than you ever sank
When you find yourself falling down upon your knees
Praying to God and begging Him please
That's when she's more than a memory
Stupid man, standing here, thinking she'll want to see you now. Sentiment. . . best left for the losing side. He stood straight and looked at the door one more time, hoping she'd be running out so he could see her one more time before Christmas. The game was on, but he was so tired. It was time to end this game, and try to get back on track. Hands in his pockets, Sherlock slowly turned and strolled away. Happy Christmas Molly SH.
He didn't notice a figure in the window. Molly stared down at the street, a small gasp sounded from her lips. Is that Sherlock? She pressed her forehead on the window as her phone chimed. As he turned the corner, she reached down and sighed. Happy Christmas Dearest Sherlock.