Molly sighed as she stared at herself in the mirror. "I don't know about this Anthea… Does it look like I'm trying too hard?" She ran her fingers over the expensive black lace that adorned the dress she was wearing. She had to admit, it did look good. The dress hugged her in all the right places, and worked overtime to showcase her "womanly attributes." The dress itself was the embodiment of sexy and sophistication. "No love, trust me you look gorgeous! Wait until I'm done with you," Anthea replied encouragingly.
During Sherlock's mission to destroy Moriarty's network, the two often met when Mycroft Holmes was unable to update Molly himself. It was nice to talk (read: commiserate) with someone who was familiar with the mercurial moods of the Holmes Brothers. Thus, the unlikely friendship between the two women began. "Molly, it's your birthday! We're going to go out, look our best, and leave our problems behind!"
Anthea knew that this would be a hard day on Molly. Not only because she had no family left, but because any hopes of starting a family of her own were squashed when she ended her engagement to Tom. It had been Anthea's (secret) hope that the younger Holmes would come to his senses soon after, but alas, no such luck. Now she had to take matters into her own hands, which of course thrilled her, however she vowed she would make Sherlock squirm a bit first.
Molly giggled, "You're right, absolutely right. I refuse to spoil it. I am in a desperate need of a girl's night!" The ladies continued to get ready, slowly letting the effects of their first glass of wine set in. Somewhere in the midst of all the laughter and music playing, Anthea heard her text alert ring.
"Oh no you don't! One of the conditions was that you were not going to be attached to your bloody phone all night," Molly huffed. Anthea chuckled, Molly became feisty when she had a few drinks in her. It was really a sight to see! "I didn't forget, I promise. Its Mycroft, he's stopping by to pick up a few contracts before we head out tonight. Speaking of which, are you ready to go?"
"Ready!" Molly exclaimed, hardly containing her excitement. Both women walked out of the flat and onto the street where a black posh car was waiting for them. Slowly the door opened, and the elder Holmes stepped out. "Good evening ladies. Dr. Hooper, you look lovely tonight. I don't mean to interrupt tonight's festivities, but as always duty calls." Mycroft greeted stiffly. "Oh no problem, Mycroft! But don't expect Anthea to respond to any of you messages tonight. I am taking her phone away as soon as you're done here!"
Mycroft laughed and offered a small smile. He was well aware of his moniker "The Iceman" and if he was perfectly honest, he did enjoy it. Just as much as he enjoyed making dignitaries and other politicians cower in his presence. But Molly Hooper? She was an enigma. Her warmth and kindness never ceased to amaze him. Even as she chided him, the sparkle and mirth never left her eyes. Not many could get away with this sort of familiarity, but she could. After all, the "British Government" was indebted to her.
"As you should, Miss Hooper. My apologies. Please let me drive you to your destination. It's the least I could do."
"That's very kind of you Mycroft. Thank you!"
After stepping into the restaurant, (that Molly had been dying to try), she was greeted by the maître d. "Dr. Hooper, if you will please follow me, your party is waiting for you." Hesitantly, she began to follow. "Party? Anthea, what's going on?" Any answer she would have received was interrupted by a large group all yelling "SURPRISE!"
Molly gasped and covered her face, as tears threatened to escape her eyes. She looked around to see her guests, to see all the people she cared about. Everyone was there, including coworkers from Bart's to officers from Scotland Yard. Somewhere in the back she spotted her favorite group of people; John and Mary Watson, Mrs. Hudson, Greg Lestrade, and a certain sulking consulting detective. After a few minutes of greeting and thanking her guests, she finally made her way through the crowd towards the back table.
"Molly, you look incredible! Happy birthday love!" Mary said, as she pulled her into a tight hug. "Were you surprised, dear?" Mrs. Hudson interjected, giving her a squeeze. "Oh yes! I can't believe you're all here. It means so much to me!" Molly replied, beaming. "Of course we'd be here Molls. You're family!" John whispered into her ear while giving her a big bear hug. "I'm afraid you're stuck with us," Greg chuckled and kissed her cheek. Molly looked over to Sherlock, who seemed to be in his mind palace. She was shocked to see him and knew that John probably forced him to go, so instead of "poking the bear" she continued her conversation with the women and walked away from the table.
"Brother dear, you are being rude. Mummy would be appalled to hear that you behaved this way at a party." Mycroft warned as he approached the table. Snapping out of his reverie, Sherlock was surprised to see his brother standing before him. "Mycroft? What the hell are you doing here?"
"I was invited."
"That still doesn't answer my questions. Surely you've been invited places before, and have declined. So I'll ask again, what are you doing here?"
Mycroft sighed. "It should come as no surprise that Dr. Hooper and I are acquainted. It is her birthday, so I am here to… celebrate."
Sherlock scoffed. "You're just here for the cake, admit it."
"Sherlock, usually I put up with your childish jibes, but I won't have you diminish the affection I hold for Miss Hooper. I-"
"Affection?" Sherlock asked incredulously. "Oh so that's it. You have feelings for Molly now, is that right? Couldn't find a goldfish of your own, so you had to go fishing in my aquarium? Really Mycroft!"
"Don't be ridiculous, Sherlock!"
"Well then, what is it? Seriously, brother mine, sentiment doesn't suit you."
By the end of this squabble Mycroft was frustrated and slightly offended, but he wouldn't be "The Iceman" if he couldn't control his emotions. "I apologize Sherlock, it only became clear to me just now how I have failed you. I always believed that sentiment was a weakness. Perhaps it was to protect you from others, or to save you from the same troubles I encountered as a child, but I instilled that belief in you." Sherlock gaped, but before he could retort with a scathing remark Mycroft continued. "Take a look around, look at all the people here tonight. They are all here because of sentiment; because they all care for one woman. Hell, you're still alive because of that one woman. Sentiment saved you Sherlock! You would be dead were it not for her. So in answer to your question, I am here because of feelings for Molly Hooper. Feelings of gratitude and appreciation. You might forget, but we are indebted to her. It wouldn't hurt you to return her kindness. Something to think about, brother mine."
Sherlock watched as his brother sauntered away; clearly he had a lot to think about. He took a moment to observe the party, and began to feel guilty. "Everyone is here because of Molly, and they all look genuinely pleased to be here." Soon he caught sight of the birthday girl herself and met her eye. The pathologist and detective stared at one another until someone called Molly over. Before she returned to the conversation, she gave him one of her bright smiles. He returned her smile with a sincere grin of his own. His heart slightly fluttered. "She looks happy. She looks beautiful."
It was at that moment that Sherlock Holmes decided that perhaps he was capable of doing sentiment. Especially if it meant seeing Molly smile like that.