This little fic has been sitting unfinished for a while, but it finally took shape, thanks mostly to the wonderful mizjoely.
Chapter one takes place somewhere post-Watson wedding, but before a certain slapping incident. Chapter two will S4-ish.
Rating may be subject to change in Chapter two.
Hope you enjoy it. Thanks for reading!
"I have a problem, Mr. Holmes."
Sherlock Holmes looked at the young boy seated in John's chair. Fingers steepled under his chin, the detective took a deep breath and addressed the boy with much more sincerity than was commonly afforded his clients.
"Very well, Archie. How can I help you?"
There was a worried look in those large brown eyes. The last thing Archie wanted to do was upset or disappoint his idol. But he wasn't sure how to avoid it in this situation.
"That's the thing, Mr. Holmes, I'm not sure you can. I think it's a case for Dr. Molly."
Molly Hooper had just sat down with her novel when she heard the buzz of her mobile. Eyes squeezed shut, she threw her head back against the couch cushion. It had to be Sherlock- no one else had timing like that.
Your help is required. -SH
It's my day off, Sherlock. Dr. Singh is in today, he may be willing to help. -Molly
Not for me, for Archie. -SH
Before she could even wonder what was going on, Molly heard knocking at her front door. Knowing full well who waited on the other side of that door, she took a glance at herself in the mirror. Considering she'd been in her rattiest clothes cleaning her flat until about thirty minutes ago, Molly figured she looked well enough.
She opened the door to Archie and Sherlock with a shy smile, but it was easy to see that something was amiss. They both looked extremely uncomfortable.
"Come right in, I'll put the kettle on."
Archie offered her a little smile as he entered, but Sherlock barely glanced at their host as he pushed past both Molly and the boy. Removing his Belstaff, he threw it carelessly over the floral armchair before flopping down himself.
"Biscuits as well, Molly."
Molly glared at the detective, but Archie shook his head and sighed. "Sorry about Mr. Holmes, I don't think he's very happy with me right now. Thanks for having us over, Dr. Molly. I don't need biscuits or anything, don't go to any trouble for me."
"Oh, Archie, turning down biscuits? Now I know something really is wrong. You are no trouble at all. I'll pour you a glass of milk too, if you'd like?"
Molly was rewarded with a smile, and the boy seemed to cheer up a bit. "Thanks, Dr. Molly. I knew you'd be the right person to talk to today."
"Does the tea just make itself here at your flat, Molly, or do you ever plan on returning to your kitchen?"
Sighing heavily, she decided it wasn't worth the fight. Ruffling the young boy's hair, she headed into her kitchen and started heating the tea kettle, all the while trying to figure out why Archie would want to talk to her rather than Sherlock.
A short while later, armed with a plateful of ginger nuts and a tall glass of milk for the boy, she returned to her sitting room.
"Finally." Sherlock swiped two biscuits from the plate before Molly could even set it on the table. She shook her head, then handed the milk to Archie with a smile as she sat down next to him on the settee.
"Alright, Archie. What do you need?"
The boy took a breath to speak, opened his mouth, but seemed to be searching for the right words. In the end he just sighed heavily, and looked over to Sherlock.
"Mr. Holmes, I hope you won't be too disappointed in me. You see, I have a girl problem."
"Of course, of course. Sentiment- that's, err..." He stood rather quickly and began pacing the small sitting room, refusing to look at either of his companions.
"Yes, Archie, you were absolutely correct. Dr. Hooper is the perfect choice to assist you with- umm, your particular dilemma. Whatever that may be. This is certainly not my area. Friendships and such." Sherlock waved his arm vaguely as he spoke, his discomfort nearly palpable. "Perhaps I should just..."
Molly shot a reassuring smile to Archie before calling softly to Sherlock, who looked ready to bolt.
"Sherlock, the kettle's boiled by now. Why don't you get our tea while Archie and I talk?"
With a barely heard, "oh, thank God," the detective threw himself into the kitchen. Molly couldn't hold back a short chuckle, and with Sherlock out of the room Archie seemed to relax as well. She pulled her legs up onto the settee and turned to face the boy.
"Now that we can speak more freely, what is your friend's name?"
Archie turned himself until he mirrored Molly, wrapping his arms around his knees."Her name is Caroline and she lives a few doors down from me and Mum." The boy wasn't making any eye contact, just staring at his legs. Molly knew she'd have to tread a bit careful to get to the heart of the matter.
"You've known her for a long time then?"
"Yeah, since we were little. And we both like science stuff. She even has her own microscope that she lets me use sometimes. And then when I started showing her the crime scene pictures that Mr. Holmes gave me she didn't think they were gross- she thought they were really cool!" Archie was smiling broadly now, caught up in thoughts of whatever terribly inappropriate photos Sherlock had shared with him.
"Caroline sounds like a lovely girl. So what's the problem?"
The boy sighed heavily and dramatically, reminding her very much of a certain someone. He let his head fall back against the arm of the settee.
"Well, when I started working with Mr. Holmes I told her we couldn't be friends anymore- 'cause consulting detectives can't be all sentimental- and she was kinda sad. But I told her we could still do some of the cool stuff we always did, like science experiments and reading about crimes in the newspaper. And we do, but..." Molly waited to see if he'd elaborate, but it seemed she'd have to pry a but more.
"It's not the same, is it?"
Archie sat right up, with tears starting to form in his big, brown eyes. He started speaking quickly, getting more and more upset.
"She's sad, Dr. Molly. I'm making her sad, and she tries to hide it, but I know it's my fault! I hate making her sad, but I want to be a detective like Mr. Holmes! So I wanted your help because-"
Suddenly, the boy was quiet. He took a deep breath, but never took his eyes off of Molly. He spoke softly, and she could see him taking care with his words.
"Sometimes Mr. Holmes makes you sad too. But you always help him and you're always nice to him. So how do you do it? And how do I help Caroline be- not sad?"
Suddenly her spacious flat felt too small. She knew Sherlock was listening in from the kitchen- it didn't take this long to make tea. But Archie was still looking at her with those wide eyes and she knew that to help him, she'd have to be honest.
"You're right Archie. Sometimes Sherlock Holmes does things that make me sad. But I know he cares about me in his own way. And he may tell you that friends and people aren't his area but look around, Archie. He has the Watsons, his very best friends, and you know John and Mary would do anything for him. DI Lestrade would be here in a heartbeat if Sherlock needed him. And Mrs Hudson, do you think she would take such good care of him if she didn't care about him?"
Molly could tell Archie was really considering all of this, so she continued, leaning forward and smiling at him in encouragement.
"People, friends, relationships- they're important. They make us better, they challenge us to think a little differently. And perhaps if Mr. Holmes had had a friend like Caroline when he was a boy- someone to be kind and supportive of the things that interested him, then 'people' might be more his area now. So don't push your friends away, Archie. Especially friends who understand and like the same things you do. Who knows? Maybe Caroline can be your pathologist when you become a detective?" Molly patted his hand with a bright smile and a wink.
"And he has you, Dr. Molly. You're his friend too."
Molly made an effort to keep the smile both on her face and in her voice. Sherlock may have told her she counted, but in her heart she knew Sherlock needed her more than he wanted her in his life. That, however, wasn't something she was ready to share with young Archie, let alone the man eavesdropping from her kitchen.
"You're right. He has me too."
A quiet cough pulled the pair from their conversation. Molly looked up to see Sherlock standing in the doorway, staring at the two mugs of tea in his hands.
"Archie, I'd like a word with Dr. Hooper. Could you wait outside for a moment?"
The boy unfolded himself from his spot on the settee and gave Molly a brief but strong hug, whispering a thank you in her ear. Molly couldn't help a smile, even as her stomach churned a bit at the thought of this private conversation with Sherlock.
"Always good to see you, Archie. You're welcome anytime."
"Bye, Dr. Molly!"
Sherlock nodded at the boy as he left the flat, but didn't look at Molly until he heard the front door close behind Archie. He handed Molly her mug, and she accepted it carefully, hyperaware of the brief brush of his fingers against hers. She wrapped both hands around the mug, letting the warmness calm her.
Sherlock sat down next to her in the spot Archie had abandoned, but didn't face her. Molly watched him from the corner of her eye, but didn't turn his way either.
"I was rude, earlier. About the tea."
She took a sip from her mug. "Yes, you were. But I know you were nervous about Archie, and what he needed. It's fine."
"It's not fine. You are- you are always kind. Kinder to me than I deserve."
At this Molly, turned her head toward him. But Sherlock's eyes were still down, staring into his still-full mug.
"I meant what I said. People, relationships… they are not my area. But I'm glad that they are yours."
She watched him finally take a sip from his mug, still speechless. Sherlock placed his mug on the table and rose from his seat beside her. The room was silent as he gathered up his Belstaff, but before he could leave, Molly found her voice.
"I meant what I said before, too, Sherlock. You have friends who care about you."
Their eyes finally met.
"I'm glad you're one of them, Molly Hooper. I'm glad I have you." The smile he gave her was a genuine, almost boyish one. Molly watched as Sherlock turned away from her, pulling on his coat with a flourish, and left her flat, closing the door quietly behind him.
"You always have, Sherlock. Always."
