The Detective and his Dorothys
When Sherlock Holmes, consulting detective, entered the lobby of St. Bartholomew's Hospital, the sight he saw shocked him so much that he momentarily thought he was hallucinating. Slowly and clumsily parading through the lobby was a long line of small, colorful and almost disturbing creatures carrying little black bags. He then noticed all of the adults watching, with smitten looks on their faces, with the women going, "Aww!"
Then he realized with an eye roll and wave of nausea what they were: children dressed in colorful costumes made of polyester and tulle. What on earth they were doing Sherlock neither knew nor cared. With lightning speed, Sherlock went through the lobby and expertly made his way through the corridors to the pathology wing, where he knew his pathologist/confidante/savior/word-that-means-girl friend-but-is-NOT-girlfriend, Molly Hooper.
A small grin lighted his lips at that thought before it disappeared. He was here on business, after all.
When he arrived at the laboratory doors, Sherlock made sure to slow down and open the door silently, especially when she could hear she was 'oooing' a melody, and a familiar one at that. The melody brought back memories of nights both terrifying and comforting, from just after The Fall, as it was now referred to by everybody. She had a flute-like soprano voice one wouldn't expect hearing her speak. Not wanting to think of those hard nights, Sherlock focused on what he could see, not what he heard.
He could see Molly standing at his microscope, giving it a good cleaning; she knew he would be coming in today and have use for it this crisp October morning. He smiled. She looked quite lovely today. Instead of her usual baggy pants and frumpy jumper, Molly wore a blue-and-white-checked day dress under her white lab coat that synched her waist but flowed freely to her knees. It was very flattering to her petite figure. Her long, auburn-brown hair was braided into two braids, about halfway down before it was tied off, resting over her shoulders. Sherlock took a moment to admire her exposed calves; for a petite woman, Molly's legs were in no way stumpy. After admiring her dainty ankles, Sherlock's observations came to a screeching and surprising halt, followed by sheer confusion, when he saw her footwear.
"Sherlock!" Molly exclaimed joyfully, for she had finally noticed she was not alone in the lab. This brought Sherlock's gaze back to her face, which was positively beaming as she looked at him. Sherlock felt warmth spread from his chest to the tips of his fingers and toes; he would never get used to that.
As Molly practically skipped towards him, his gaze was again drawn to her feet, specifically her shoes. Were they blood-red or ruby-red? Was there glitter on the sequins covering every inch of their surface? It seemed that they would sparkle even in the dim laboratory lights.
Molly's gentle kiss on his right cheek brought his gaze back up to her face, and he leaned into the hand she laid on his left cheek. "You didn't sleep last night," she stated quietly.
"The case is not yet over, Molly," he replied. "You know the way I work."
"I know," she sighed, looking at him in worry. "But one more night without food or rest, you'll be running on fumes, and you know that's worse than digestion slowing you down and sleep wasting time."
Knowing that she was right, Sherlock said, "Thankfully, the test that we are going to run should settle things once and for all." He swiftly leaned in and kissed her own cheek.
Molly smiled. "Then what are we waiting for?" She walked back to the lab counter cheerily. Sherlock's gaze was again drawn to her odd footwear. He was about to comment on it when she said. "Want anything before we get started?"
"Coffee?" replied Sherlock.
"Cream, no sugar," she replied cheekily before smiling at him and heading into her office.
He feigned a scowl as he walked out the lab, but smirked once he was out of it. He did love it when Molly did that.
Sherlock's smirk melted away when he had turned a bend in the corridor, for he could now hear a strange and pitiful noise echo down the hall. Immediately curious for an answer, Sherlock walked in the direction the noise seemed to be coming from. Turning another corner, he saw what it was.
Standing by – almost behind – a large potted plant was a small girl. She couldn't have been no older than five or six. She was trembling, holding her small hands tight together, and tears were flowing down her cheeks. What struck Sherlock the most was how much she resembled Molly in terms of attire. This girl also wore a dress of blue-and-white checks (though the girls skirt was more frilly and the sleeves were bloused and white). Her brown hair was braided in the same exact way Molly's was. To top it all off, she was wearing the same baffling footwear Molly was wearing (though the girl wore blue knee-socks with them).
The little girl spotted him and seemed to debate whether taking a step back or step forward, go to him or from him.
Sherlock immediately felt like a fish out of water. In no way did he know the best way to act around a frightened and crying little girl. Why couldn't Molly have gone to get the coffee this time?
Molly! Of course! She will know what to do! I must get this little girl to Molly.
So, he took a deep breath and, deciding it best not to tower over her, crouched down so he was at her eye level. "Hello," he said. "Why don't you come with me? I know someone who can help you." Sherlock thought of John when he had spoken to a traumatized Mrs. Hudson after she'd been attacked, and used the same tone.
The little girl at least did not look frightened, but she did look conflicted. "M-m-mummy s-said d-d-don't talk t-to strang-gers."
Smart and stuttering, thought Sherlock, and this brought a genuine smile to his face. "Well, my name is Sherlock, and if you tell me your name, we won't be strangers anymore." That was logical, after all.
Turned out it was the right thing to say. "L-lily. I'm Lily."
Sherlock nodded and held out a hand for her to take. "Will you come with me, then? I promise the person I know can help you."
Lily nodded, and put her tiny hand in Sherlock's. He stood up fully and led her back towards the laboratory, making sure to walk at pace with her little legs. He didn't need John to tell him that it wouldn't be good to drag along a child at his pace. Lily was quiet during their walk, but held his hand tightly.
When they came into the laboratory, Molly looked up expecting Sherlock to be holding two coffee mugs. Safe to say the sight of Sherlock holding the hand of a tiny girl left her looking absolutely gobsmacked for a moment. "I found her standing alone in the corridor," said Sherlock by way of explanation. "Her name is Lily."
Molly immediately shut her mouth and hurried towards them. She crouched right in front of the little girl with a warm smile and concerned look. "Hello, Lily. My name is Molly." Her smile widened as she took in the girl's attire. "I adore your costume."
Lily managed to smile as Molly wiped the tears from her cheeks. "I'm D-d-dorothy," she said shyly.
Molly nodded. "I can see that." She leaned in conspiratorially towards Lily. "Me too," she whispered dramatically, pointing to her feet.
Lily saw they wore matching footwear and her face lit up in a grin. "Your ruby slippers are so lovely!"
"Not as lovely as yours," said Molly, laughing.
All Sherlock could gather from this exchange was that today was Halloween. He vaguely remembered John mentioning that fact last night when talking to his girlfriend, Mary, on the phone. That also explained the swarm of children, as well as Lily's costume and Molly's matching footwear. But he had no idea who the Dorothy they were referring to was. He would have to ask Molly about that later.
"Did you get lost from your group, sweetheart?" asked Molly gently.
Lily nodded. "I was t-trying find the potty, and w-when I did everyone had g-g-gone."
"Don't worry, Lily," said Molly, standing up and taking the little girl's free hand. "We'll help you find your group, won't we?" She concluded with a look at Sherlock, still smiling but with a look that said, You dare disagree with me and you're banned from my bedroom for a month.
Sherlock was certainly not stupid enough to go against that look, so he nodded.
The odd party of three then set out from the pathology lab, heading towards the child care center in the hospital. As they walked, Molly and Lily talked animatedly about this Dorothy, as well as many other things that did not make sense to him, such as flying monkeys, witches traveling in bubbles, and inanimate objects that could walk and talk.
Yes, must definitely have a talk with Molly after the case. Must make sure she truly knows what is logical and what cannot be…
A tugging on his hand brought his attention to little Lily, who was looking up at him curiously. "Yes?" he asked, remembering to sound polite and gentle.
"You have pretty hair."
Molly nearly choked on her suppressed laughter at Lily's words and Sherlock's shocked face. It took him a good fourteen seconds to respond with a tentative, "Thank you…" Again remembering his manners, he added hastily, "So do you."
Lily blushed, and Molly couldn't contain her giggles, giving the girl's hand a reassuring squeeze.
"So, Lily," said Molly. "Do you know what you want to be when you grow up?"
Lily seemed to seriously contemplate her answer, and whether to trust these two new friends with it so soon. "You won't laugh at me, will you?"
"Cross our hearts," said Molly. Sherlock didn't understand the expression, but nodded nonetheless.
"Well…" said Lily, before taking a deep breath and giving her answer. "I-I think I'd like to be a detective."
Both Sherlock's and Molly's steps ground to a halt in surprise. Sherlock wore a look of pleased astonishment; Molly wore a look of pure delight. Lily looked at both adults, and seeing that they liked her answer, gave a tentative smile and shrug.
Sherlock crouched down to her level again, his turn to look like a co-conspirator. "May I ask why you want to be a detective?"
"My daddy says I should be one because I want to know everything and I like solving puzzles. Should a detective be like that?"
"Oh, that is absolutely essential!" said Sherlock with enthusiasm. "A detective always wants to know the answers to all of the questions, and puzzles are their favorite thing in the world." His gaze drifted to Molly. "Even when you come face to face with one that is unsolvable, it just makes it all the more worth it to keep at."
Molly blushed and hid her smile behind her free hand.
"How can I start?" asked Lily, fascinated and excited by what Sherlock had told her.
"By not only seeing, but observing, everything around you," said Sherlock seriously, his eyes twinkling.
"Observing?" inquired Lily, tilting her head at this new word.
"It means looking very closely at something and noticing everything possible about it," said Sherlock. He reached into the pocket of his Belstaff coat, and took out his small magnifying lens he used at crime scenes and on cadavers. "This will help you see things up close, so you can't miss a thing." He then slipped it into the pocket of her skirt.
Lily gasped, smiled, and then gave Sherlock a big hug. "Oh, thank you!"
Sherlock seemed taken aback by the action, but gently returned the hug, a surprised and pleased smile on his face.
Molly thought her heart would melt into a pile on the corridor floor.
It didn't take them much longer to find the child care center, and they dropped a glowing Lily off to a very relieved staff, who had been about to call security. She gave both Sherlock and Molly a kiss on their cheeks before joining her friends, eager to show them her new magnifying lens and putting it to use.
After the doors to the child care center had shut behind them, Molly grabbed Sherlock's hand and practically dragged him to a deserted corridor. Before he could ask why she was not leading him in the direction of the lab, she had brought her head down and was covering his lips with hers passionately. Sherlock's mind went blissfully quiet, and his arms snaked around her in a tight grip, and she moaned against his mouth.
Before they could get carried away, Molly had pulled her head back – ignoring Sherlock's growl of protest – and said in a rich voice, her brown eyes twinkling with pride and love, "You…are…wonderful."
Sherlock felt a lump rise in his throat, and gave her a kiss of his own to make up for words that wouldn't mean half so much.
When they broke apart, Molly said, "Now, let's go to the lab and run that test. Because the sooner you solve this case, the sooner you can give yourself over to your more human desires."
The mischievous glint in her doe-brown eyes caused Sherlock to grin like the pirate he always longed to be, grab her hand, and led her in a run back down to the lab, her laughter reverberating off the hospital hallway walls as she had this thought:
This may just turn out to be the best Halloween of my life!