Author's Note: Hi! This is the beginning of my sequel to "More". You're welcome just go ahead with this story, but please note that there are some things here which won't make sense outside of the context of that first story. ^_^
"JOHN!" Sherlock Holmes hollered up the stairs in the direction of his flatmate's bedroom. "JOHN!"
A very sleepy, and very cross, Dr. John Watson trudged down the stairs, yawning, one hand rubbing his eyes, the other pulling down the shirt he'd just managed to pull on. "WHAT? Christ, it's bloody seven in the morning!"
Sherlock was still in his pyjamas and dressing gown, though he held a teacup and a saucer in his hands. He smirked, "That's very flattering, but don't call me that. You'll offend a major religion." At John's eye roll, he walked into the kitchen and gestured for his friend to follow. "I've prepared breakfast."
The former army doctor was surprised to see a full English breakfast waiting for him: heaped on a huge plate he didn't know they owned- - - Probably Mrs. Hudson's, John thought - - - were bacon, what looked to be poached eggs, fried tomatoes, some sausages and baked beans. On a smaller plate was a pile of toast, a couple of jars of jam beside it, and a steaming mug of tea. John froze in place. He would have been pleased if he didn't know who he lived with.
"What did you do?" He asked warily, pursing his lips.
Sherlock looked up at John from where he'd seated himself in front of his own, considerably smaller, serving of food; his face a picture of innocence. "What?"
The doctor spread his arms, gesturing to the food. "You have never, I repeat, NEVER, made breakfast in the years I've lived with you." He put up a hand to pinch the bridge of his nose. "Which begs the question: WHAT have you gotten yourself into now which you need my help cleaning up? Because I draw the line at helping you dump a dead body."
This time, it was Sherlock who rolled his eyes. "Don't be ridiculous, John. I was merely in a good mood and decided to cook us some breakfast. I saw Mrs. Hudson's recipe book again and simply decided to try my hand at it."
Although still wary of his best friend's motives, John decided to risk it. No use wasting good food. He sat himself down and tucked in, savouring the rare treat. He was in the middle of spreading apricot jam on his toast when he heard Sherlock clear his throat. He looked across the table and raised his eyebrows. "I knew it. Go on then, out with it."
"Ineedyourhelptoplanadatewith Molly." Sherlock rushed out while angrily eyeing his toast.
John gaped. "I'm sorry, what?"
"Oh you heard me. I'm not going to repeat myself." Sherlock replied irritably. His friend chuckled.
"You are. That is, unless of course you think you can manage on your own."
The consulting detective huffed. "Fine." He closed his eyes, bracing himself, and then glared at John. "I need your help to plan my first date with Molly!"
John made to stand, "Hold on, I didn't get my phone, I want a record of that."
"JOHN!"
"Fine, fine." John replied peaceably. "But I thought you said the two of you have already had dinner at that place...Chinese, wasn't it?"
Sherlock deflated. "Well, that...we did. But, it wasn't a proper date." He took a fork and started poking his share of the bacon. "Molly didn't even realize we were going to go on one. She thought at first I wanted her to drop me off for dinner." When John almost choked on his tea in laughter, he began stabbing the sausage. "What?! You know this isn't my area."
"It really isn't, is it?" John, although highly amused at his best friend's plight, understood how hard it must be for the self-proclaimed sociopathic genius to plan for something like this. "Okay. I'll help you."
When Sherlock beamed, the doctor wondered at how much Molly had managed to infiltrate the walls the man before him had laboured all his life, it seemed, to put up. Smiling at the thought, he proceeded to ask his flatmate questions regarding Molly. He knew Sherlock would know her preferences, and John was gratified when he received detailed answers.
There are good days, bad days, and days somewhere in between. For one Dr. Molly Hooper, however, youngest - - - and only female - - - pathologist at St. Bartholomew's Hospital, today was turning out to be the best one yet.
Molly grinned as she carefully made a Y-incision on an elderly man's chest she had received for an autopsy. I must look quite mad. She thought. She knew that if anyone came in through the morgue's double doors and saw her grinning as she sliced open a corpse; they are most likely to stare and then make the entirely logical decision to bolt.
She couldn't help the smile, though. In a span of just several days her life had taken a turn for the better. It seemed to her that after waiting for so long, things were finally going her way. The past week was eventful, to say the least, and unsurprisingly, a certain consulting detective had been with her right at the heart of it.
An hour and a half later, Molly had just put in the last stitch needed to close up the body when she heard her mobile's text alert tone echo from her desk across the room. She carefully put away her things and pulled her gloves off, dispensing of them in the biohazard bin, walked over to the sink to wash her hands, and then walked to her desk to grab her phone, glancing up at the clock mounted above the doorjamb.
Thought we'd go
on that date tonight.
S
She smiled, remembering the afternoon four days prior which they spent together in her flat. Molly had ended up arriving at work about a half hour late, but seeing as Sherlock had been the cause of delay, she didn't really mind. Besides, I get in really early and stay late all the time, she had reasoned. Sherlock had gone on a case since that day, and she was glad that apparently he and John had managed to wrap it up so soon. The detective would not have asked her on a date while in the middle of one. At least, I don't think he would.
You mean this morning?
I'm still on the graveyard shift.
What's the dress code? :-P
x M
Molly put her mobile down and checked herself in the mirror. It was a good thing she'd decided to wear some of her better clothes today then. She rarely wore skirts, dresses even less, but she was in a good mood. She'd decided to wear a sleeveless navy blue shift dress she'd found on sale at M&S on one of her rare shopping sprees. It stopped just above her knees, which showed off her figure without being provocative, and she'd paired it with a white long sleeved cardigan to keep out the cold of the morgue.
Instead of putting up her hair in its usual ponytail, she'd opted to plait half of it so that the rest of her long hair fell to her shoulders while managing not to obscure her face and interrupt her work. She was in a pair of white ballet flats, and she debated changing into the black high-heeled pumps she knew was somewhere in her locker.
That emoticon is disturbing.
Whatever you have on is fine.
Pick you up later.
S
Molly laughed, shaking her head. She wasn't sure what Sherlock had planned, but was excited nonetheless.
Still in his pyjamas and dressing gown in 221B, Sherlock had stood up and gone into his room to put away his laptop when his phone sounded.
"Message!" John, who had just arrived home from his shift at the A&E and a quick dinner with Mary, shouted from his couch in the sitting room. Sherlock motioned for him to go ahead and read it. Rolling his eyes and grabbing the mobile which had been left sitting precariously on the edge of Sherlock's seat, he clicked it and read the message.
"It's Molly! Says she's excited and that you forgot the 'x'!" He had barely let the words out when Sherlock hurried back out of his room, grabbing the phone from him. Surprised, John asked, "What 'x'?"
"Nothing!" Sherlock squirmed under his friend's gaze. He stepped up and over the coffee table then sat on the sofa, fiddling with his phone.
John put a hand beneath his chin and stared at Sherlock, smirking. "You know, I just realized something." When he didn't receive a response, he continued, "The day we met you said you deduced I had a brother- - - which I'd like to remind you was wrong, it's sister- - - from my phone. And you pointed out that the three 'x's before Clara's name helped indicate her relationship to Harry." A smug grin appeared on his face. "How come you had to ask Molly and me what they meant?"
"I don't know what you're talking about." Sherlock said evenly, although he avoided meeting his eyes.
Seeing Sherlock's discomfort, John's grin grew wider, and he leaned forward in his chair, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Ah, I get it now. That was you trying to flirt with her! And here I thought the opposite sex was such a mystery to you."
Sherlock tried to ignore his teasing. "Of course I knew what the 'x' meant. I just didn't think it applied to her, that's all." His friend shook his head, letting out a small grunt of laughter.
John saw Sherlock's face grow stormy, and decided to change the subject. "So you're all done planning your date, then?"
The genius hummed in response and sent off a text before hurriedly standing up and striding towards the bathroom.
"What are you doing?" John called to his friend's retreating back.
Sherlock paused, turned around, and eyed him quizzically. "Obvious. I'm going to prepare."
It was John's turn to look puzzled, "What? For your date?" when Sherlock rolled his eyes, he added, "but doesn't Molly's shift end at 4am? It's not for another- - - " he eyed his watch, "- - - five hours!"
"So?"
"So? Isn't it too early to get started?"
The consulting detective huffed in indignation. "Of course not," he said, before disappearing into the bathroom.
Back in the morgue, Molly's mobile beeped, and when she checked, there were three messages waiting for her. She laughed after she'd read each one.
John says you're going out
on a date with Sherlock...ooh!
Don't forget to give me an update!
:) MM
.
.
.
Hey Molls,
Little insider info:
Sherlock's spent the
whole day planning.
:-D
JW
.
.
.
Am looking forward
to it as well.
S
Molly was about to reply to John and Mary when her phone beeped again.
Will stop sending 'x's.
Much prefer the real thing.
S
A/N (What? Another one!): My thanks to everyone who read "More". I decided on a sequel because I felt there were so many things I still need to 'reveal' regarding Sherlock and Molly's new dynamic. Hope you enjoyed it!
Ta,
~Liberi Ad Somnia