AN: Went searching for a prompt on tumblr and this one word stuck: "thirteenth." Of course this meant "Friday the Thirteenth" to me. I've decided to write this as a series of 221B ficlets for added challenge. As of right now there will be a minimum of 4 parts. Enjoy!
Disclaimer: The characters portrayed in this drabble are not mine but borrowed from the writers/creators of BBC Sherlock. All rights reserved.
Molly was not a superstitious person. Of course she couldn't deny that she made the customary birthday wish every year. Although that was getting more frustrating as there were more candles and her wishes never came true. She still carried unrequited love for the world's only (resurrected) consulting detective. No, Molly knew better than to believe in wishes, signs or superstition. None of that stopped her from dreading Friday the Thirteenth though.
She absolutely did not like the horror movie marathons that her friends would invite her to watch every time. Molly didn't want to watch any film guaranteed to scare you half to death for two reasons: (1) she cut open cadavers all day so it wasn't fun to spend her free time watching more bodies being disassembled and (2) she didn't need to think about any of them rising up to rend flesh in the dark morning hours when everything was creepier in the morgue. She really was more the action movie type.
So tonight, Molly was happy to go home, put on her ratty pyjamas, pour a glass of wine and settle in with a Marvel movie marathon. There was nothing wrong with a little fantasizing about superheroes (or villains).
But Molly did have a curse on her that night that no amount of wishful thinking would banish.
NB: This is part of a one-a-day Sherlolly challenge, so there will eventually be Sherlock and fluff. Part Two will also be up tonight. Let me know your thoughts! - CG