Hello, this is the Queen speaking.
This story is set after the fall. I'm writing this as a one-shot, but if you want I can make it longer. Thoughts?
...
Molly stood infront of the mirror in her bedroom, running her fingers over her skirt. The black skater skirt stopped a little above her mid-thigh. An echo of her mother's voice rung in her head 'If it doesn't reach the tips of you fingers, it's too short." She reached her hands down and the edge of the skirt only brushed the end of her middle fingers nail. Too short... she thought to herself, smoothing her hands over the fabric. No! I look good! The skirt is...sliming! And it looks nice with my pink top...maybe it's a bit too pink...No! I look good! I look-
"You're going out dressed like that?" A deep baritone sounded behind her.
"Ahh! Sherlock...you scared me. How long have you been standing there?"
"Not long. But really? Are you sure?"
"The skirt is supposed to be this short." Molly said defensively, stroking the fabric again.
"Of course it is." Sherlock said turning and leaving out the door and into the kitchen.
Molly followed him, her heels clicking along the kitchen tiles. Her eyes were instantly drawn to the plate of food lying on the table, completely untouched.
"You haven't even touched your food. What's wrong?" She asked, cleaning up the plate of cold carbonara. He was standing with his back to her, looking out the window. He knows he shouldn't be standing near the window, let alone looking out of it. What is he thinking?
"I won't be gone long." Molly started. "I'm just going on-"
"A date." He finished for her. "I wouldn't bother. It won't last long. He's in debt to his previous girlfriend, because he took money from her to pay of another debt in America. A rather hefty amount of money probably. He's only interested in you so he can pinch your money next."
"H...How could you have possibly deduced that?" Molly spluttered. " You've never even met him!"
"I didn't need to. The note he wrote you." Sherlock gestured to the note on the table. "A note in itself suggests anxiety, but given the quite lude manner of speaking he is, in all respects, an overly self confident person. So why would he be nervous about asking a girl out? Now he could be gay, but with just a quick glance at the picture he slipped into the inside of the note proves that he is as straight as a steel ruler. Now on to the gambling. The shakiness of the writing over 'I'd like to take you out and pay for dinner.' can show even a moron that he is having money problems. Wanting to take money from you? 'I'm not saying that you can't pay for yourself, I just want to show you I'm a gentleman.' Really, Molly. You should take more care with who you allow to woo you. It seems that every one you chose tries to manipulate you."
"How dare you! They do not! "Molly insisted.
"Really? You think so? How about we take a trip down memory lane: first there was Fred. Wasn't he sweet. Oh no wait, he was just using you to make his ex jealous. Huh... what about good old Jack? He was nice wasn't he? Except of him being gay and him using you to try and convince his mother otherwise."
"Stop it..."
"Then there was Daniel, ah yes, the tax avoider, trying to get to you so he could get to Lestrade. Do I even need to mention Moriarty? And now we have...Sebby."
"I think you missed one."
"No. I didn't. Who?"
Molly hesitated a moment. Biting back the words she wanted to say. You..."I'm still going on the date Sherlock!"
"He's a bad kisser."
"Why would that matter." She snapped. "And how would you know he was a bad...Oh nevermind. You know what?" She said grabbing her bag and her jacket. " Have fun by yourself!" She yelled, slamming the front door in her wake.
...
Only three hours later Molly came storming back into the flat...soaking wet.
"Molly!" Sherlock called from the sitting room. "How was the date?...Why are you wet?"
Molly spun around to glare at him. "Deduce me." She bit out, holding out her arms.
Sherlock was slightly taken aback by Molly's harsh tone. This was sweet little Molly. His sweet little pathologist. "You're still mad?"
"Noooo! I'm not mad at you at all! Why would I be?..." She spat sarcastically.
"I don't...I-"
"You were right." She sighed defeatedly. "You were right about Sebastian...He was after my money."
"Molly..."
"He creeped me out. I'm not gonna lie." She stormed of towards the bathroom, Sherlock following her like a puppy. "He seemed so sweet at the hospital! And then..."
"Okay, but why are you wet?"
"Deduce me. I'm gonna have a shower and then go to bed."
"I asked you why you are wet!"
"And I told you to Deduce me! Are you having performance issues? Go on Sherlock, Deduce me!..."
They stood there staring at one another, and Sherlock wasn't sure quite for how long. He found himself watching the beads of water trail down from her forehead, down the side of her face, and down her long, elegant neck. As he watched on specifically large bead of water slip down past her collarbones and melted into her wet pink shirt he had to forced himself to look back into her eyes.
With a great huff of annoyance she pushed the door to the bathroom open and slammed it behind her. Sherlock stood out side, hand outstretched, wondering whether or not to knock. A few moments later he heard the shower start and knew that if he knock and tried to get in now, with her in the state she was is now, he would get slapped and kicked out for sure. He walked sadly back to the sofa and plopped down. His phone vibrated on the coffee table in front of him.
Trafalgar Square. 11:45pm. Ginger. Come alone, obviously. Head out. Tamson. Petal. Cobra. New Orleans. Kesgrave. Jackson Ness.
MH
Standing, Sherlock began to rush around the flat, picking up items and placing them in his backpack. After a quick glance at the clock (11:15) Sherlock put on the ginger wig, beard and blue beany.
Hand on the door, he pocketed one of Molly's spare keys and headed out. Locking the door behind him. After he climbed down the two sets of stairs, from the second floor to the lobby, Sherlock slipped out of the building, thankfully unnoticed. Sherlock turned back, the realisation that 'Deduce me.' may be the last words he hears the sweet Molly Hopper say to him caused him to stop.
"I'm sorry Molly." He whispered into the darkness. "I'll just have to deduce you another time."
...
Molly stepped out of the shower and dressed. She had decided that now she was more or less calm, she would try and talk to him about personal space and the need to let people live their lives without someone else controlling them, but when she came out of the bathroom Sherlock wasn't there.
"Sherlock?" She called to the empty flat. There was no reply. "Where did he go?"
Molly spent the next thirty minutes searching her flat, and the thinking where he must have gone. She finally came to the conclusion that he must have been sent out to take down Moriarty's network. Sighing, she walked around and switched of all the lights before turning and heading to bed.
Down in the alley below, Sebastian Moran looked up at the bedroom window as the light switched off. A smile crept over his lips. Brilliant. Now that Sherlock is gone, I have the perfect opportunity to take her. James is going to be ecstatic when he sees his birthday present.
...
Well...Look what happened. My mind said 'one shot' but my heart said 'series'...what do you think I should do. Leave it be, or continue? Review and leave your choice.
Thank you for reading and reviewing.