"Oh, what a night..." is obviously based on John's wedding. Whereas most authors have John and/or Greg following Sherlock from the wedding at the end of The Sign of Three, I chose to have it be Molly instead. This was just a random fic idea I got from listening to The Four Seasons' version of the song.
I'm not sure if this could be read as Sherlolly. I suppose it could, depending on where you stand on the Molly and Tom partnership.
Sorry for any mistakes.
Oh, what a night...
Molly had been watching him all day. Her attention focused on him solely throughout his speech, her eyes glued to him as he performed his no-doubt practiced-to-perfection piece for John and Mary's first dance. So Molly knew. As soon as she watched the consulting detective walk out of the dance hall, she knew.
He'd put on a brave face all day, but Molly wasn't stupid. She was more than aware that, after all of the trouble he had gone through to save John's life and the struggle that he had lived through in order to return to his best friend, being invited to be best man at his wedding was just another knife to the man's already abused spine.
Molly understood that all Sherlock had actually wanted was to return to his old life with his best friend. So finding out that not only had his only friend found a new girlfriend in his absence, he'd also moved out, was a blow to the admittedly vulnerable man.
She could just about imagine what Sherlock was thinking. No doubt the genius was panicking, wondering what was going to happen now. His flatmate was married now and moving on with his life. He had a steady job at the surgery and a loving wife. Sherlock wouldn't be needed anymore. At least that's what Molly suspected the poor man thought.
"I'm just going to the toilet," The pathologist excused herself, slipping away from Tom, Greg and Mrs. Hudson and out of the doors. Within minutes, she had grabbed her coat and was stepping out into the darkness. She quickly scanned her surroundings, nodding to herself as she saw the silhouette of the detective a little down the way.
Setting off at a pace that was a mixture between a speed walk and a jog, she didn't take very long to reach hearing distance of the 6 foot detective.
"Sherlock!" She called, watching as he came to a stop just before crossing the road. He turned slowly, coming face to face with the pathologist just as she came to a stop in front of him. "Where are you going?"
"Baker Street." Sherlock shrugged his shoulders, attempting to appear nonchalant despite the street lights glistening off of the excess moisture in his technicolour eyes. "My work here is done. I gave my speech and played for the first dance." He listed. "I fulfilled my duty and now I'm leaving."
"John wanted you there as his friend." Molly told him, her voice soft. "Being best man isn't a job, Sherlock. It's an honour. John thinks so highly of you that he requested you to be his best man. He wanted you by his side on his big day. You can't leave yet."
"It would be illogical for me to remain here, Molly." Sherlock informed her. "I've done what I was here to do and now John is free to get on with his new life."
"New life?" Molly repeated, her eyebrows knitting together in a frown. "Do you really believe that this is the end? Sherlock, you're still his best friend. That's not going to change because he's married now."
"You can't know that for certain, Molly." Sherlock let out a sigh, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his Belstaff.
"Yes I do." Molly assured him. Sherlock shook his head at the pathologist's words. "You're friends, Sherlock. And the wedding isn't going to change that."
"Its the end of an era, Molly." Sherlock spoke, swallowing as his voice cracked, betraying his stoic expression.
"And where did you hear that nonsense?" Molly demanded.
"Mrs. Hudson." Sherlock supplied, shrugging his shoulders as though trying to appear casual, but averting his eyes nonetheless.
"Sherlock," Molly spoke softly, stepping a little closer to the detective, "come back to the wedding. John will be upset to discover that you've left the wedding early."
"John is otherwise indisposed." Sherlock retorted, but Molly wasn't blind. She could see the hurt in his eyes.
"Then come and enjoy a dance with me." She offered.
"And what about Meat Dagger?" Sherlock inquired, tilting his head slightly.
"Tom." Molly corrected automatically. "And I'm fairly certain that he can spare one dance."
Sherlock shook his head despite Molly's efforts. Turning, he began to walk away again.
"Sherlock, stop."
Molly reached out and took him by the hand, squeezing it gently. She coaxed him into turning back to her and had to suppress a gasp when he did so. The tears that he had been trying so hard to hold back all day had spilled over onto his cheeks. Molly didn't speak this time. She simply reached out, pulling him lanky form into a tight hug.
Sherlock was stiff at first, clearly uncomfortable, but soon relaxed into Molly's grip, tentatively hugging her back.
"Don't cry, Sherlock." She breathed, feeling his tears against her neck as he lent down, burying his head in her shoulder. An uncomfortable feat for such a tall man.
Tom never did find out where Molly had gone that night. Sherlock, however, found that perhaps John wasn't his only friend.
Thank you for reading.
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