I wrote this one based in a prompt that Lilsherlockian1975 put on tumblr. It was a thread about places for Sherlock and Molly to have sex and her suggestion was the male bastion that is the Diogenes Club. It got my mind working and this is what came out.
So Lil, this one is for you. I hope you like it.
Chapter 1 - Breaking the Rules
'So tell me again why I'm wearing this costume.'
Molly was stood in Sherlock's front room looking at an expensive dark grey suit. He had texted her a couple of hours ago, on her day off, asking her to come over to help him with something. It had all sounded very mysterious and she was still unclear as to what exactly he wanted her to do.
Molly frowned as she let her hand move over the smooth fabric of the suit that Sherlock told her he'd had custom made for her.
Sherlock huffed in frustration; his life would be so much easier if people would just do as he asked without always needing full explanations.
'I told you, I need your help to wind up my brother. He forced me into going to the theatre with our parents not just once but twice on their last visit and I need to get him back.'
'Yes you said that but what you haven't done is tell me WHAT I'm doing?'
'We...' He emphasised the word. '...will be breaking you into Mycroft's club. I've been meaning to do it for years and that weekend with my parents finally gave me the impetus. It's one of the last bastions of male only entitlement and it will kill Mycroft to know I've snuck a woman in; especially if he has to then get you back out without anyone finding out.'
Molly let out an 'oh' as she finally twigged the reason for the masculine suit.
'But even in a suit I'm not going to pass for a man. I mean what about my hair?'
Sherlock walked over to his coat and fished about in the deep pocket producing a clear, plastic bag containing what looked suspiciously like a wig.
He smiled widely. 'There's a moustache as well. So, are you in?'
Molly had always been an ardent feminist and the idea of getting one over on one of these stuffy, stubborn clubs had her returning Sherlock's grin. 'Damn straight I am.'
It didn't take Molly long to get changed. Sherlock had directed her into his bedroom and it was the first time she'd ever seen inside it and she had to try to quell her curiosity and concentrate on changing and not spying on his private life. She couldn't help checking what book he was reading though and sniffing the bottle of cologne left out on his chest of drawers.
She wandered out holding the jacket and tugging at her shirt which felt a little tight on her neck with the collar and tie.
Sherlock was sat in his chair plucking on his violin whilst he waited and he stood, putting it to one side, before walking towards her appraising the look.
Without thinking she asked. 'Is my chest alright?'
Sherlock answered. 'Yes, luckily you're quite small so I don't think we need to bind them or anything.' He found himself unconsciously holding his hands up in front of her breasts as he assessed them.
Molly blushed at his words feeling slightly stung by his implied criticism just as she had that Christmas all those years ago.
He must have noticed because he narrowed his eyes and tilted his head.
'I...umm...I have no problem with the size of your breasts Molly. They suit your frame perfectly and given your occupation and the constant bending over corpses anything larger would be a hindrance.'
She chuckled and shook her head at his attempts to appease her but it was nice to hear him say that he didn't find her deficient, typical though that he would bring it down to practicality.
As he turned to pick up the wig he added, 'and they do say more than a handful is a waste...isn't that right?'
'Sherlock! Why on earth would THAT be a phrase that you would retain?'
'So I see that John has been gossiping. I still don't know why he's so bothered about what knowledge I keep and what I discard but if you must know I keep phrases like that so I can fit in when I'm undercover with the more base set in society.'
He turned back with the wig and motioned for her to sit down on one of the kitchen chairs.
Molly had to suppress a moan as he threaded his hands through her hair before starting to pin it up in preparation for putting the wig on.
Other than the odd kiss on the cheek from him she couldn't ever remember him doing anything so tactile with her. It felt strangely intimate and she was acutely conscious of her heart hammering in her chest.
It only got worse when he came around to face her, sitting on another of the chairs so he could affix the moustache to her face.
It felt ticklish and she wriggled her top lip earning herself a remonstration as he had to re-stick it down.
'Right, that should do. Let me do most of the talking when we get there but don't be shy. Make sure you make eye contact with the manager and hold his gaze confidently. OK, let me see you walk first though.'
'What? Why?'
'Well, you need to try and adopt a masculine stance and walk.'
Molly rolled her eyes but stood up and walked across the room. She put her hands in her trousers pockets and tried to swagger.
It was only when she heard Sherlock laughing behind her that she realised she might be overdoing it somewhat. She removed one hand and toned it down as she walked back to him and he nodded his head in approval. 'That'll do I suppose.'
Together they headed out, bumping into Mrs Hudson as they left. She was on her way back from the bakers with a bag of delicious smelling cakes.
'Oh hello Sherlock dear. I picked up your favourite cake when I was out, I'll put it in your fridge as I can see you're busy.' She glanced at Molly but there wasn't even a flicker of recognition.
'Thank you. My client and I are off to my brothers so I may be late back.'
With that he hailed a cab and the two of them set off.
Molly felt exhilarated to have fooled Mrs Hudson but Sherlock was a little disdainful when she mentioned it. 'Well she's hardly the most observant person on the planet.' He then proceeded to stare out of the cab window leaving Molly to her own thoughts.
SHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSH
Sherlock was finding this whole enterprise thoroughly confusing. He knew that Molly was playing a bigger role in his life nowadays and even though John was around as much as he ever was Sherlock found himself carving out more and more time to spend with her. He had told himself that he just enjoyed her company, that he appreciated her intellect and her skills as a pathologist but his reaction to seeing her dressed as a man had given him pause for thought and he didn't know why.
As soon as she'd walked out of his bedroom in that suit, with her hair down and flowing around her shoulders, directing his attention to her breasts he couldn't think of anything other than his need to rid her of her clothes. He knew objectively that the disguise was working but to him it just seemed to accentuate her femininity, forcing himself to view her as a woman and not just his pathologist. And viewing her as a woman was something he had tried long and hard to suppress because when it came to Molly Hooper Sherlock had a fissure in his asexual armour; he always had. He just seemed to be finding it harder and harder to ignore and that wasn't the only thing getting harder.
He had to physically stop himself from shifting in his seat to try to alleviate the pressure of his trousers on his erection. It had started when he had been putting Molly's hair up and it didn't seem to want to go away.
He glanced sideways and had to repress a smile. She looked so nervous and scared that he couldn't help but reach across and pull her hand from where it was worrying the edge of her jacket. She looked up in surprise as he held it.
'You'll be fine Molly; it's just a joke, nothing vital. Enjoy it!'
She gave him a tight smile but nodded her head.
He looked back out of the window and tried to not think about the fact that he was still holding Molly's hand, circling the back of it with his thumb, feeling how smooth her skin was.
Thankfully it was only a minute or so later when they pulled up outside the imposing facade of the Diogenes Club. Sherlock let his lip curl slightly as he looked at it. The place represented everything that he hated about power and the establishment; no wonder Mycroft liked it here so much.
They made their way in and the manager greeted Sherlock warmly.
'Mr Holmes. Good to see you again sir. I take it you are here to see Mr Mycroft Holmes?'
'Yes. My colleague and I need to talk to him. Is he here?'
'No, but we expect him soon. I can put you in the Kensington room and you can wait for him there.'
'Good, thank you.'
'If you could just sign yourself and Mr...'
'Hooper. Dr Hooper.'
'Fine, yourself and Dr Hooper in, I can get Hodges to show you both up and get you something to drink.'
MHMHMHMHMHMHMHMHMH
Finally they were alone in the room sitting opposite each other and each holding a large glass of very expensive whiskey. Molly wasn't normally a hard spirits drinker but she appreciated the alcohol burning its way down her throat and soothing her rapid heartbeat.
'I will never make a spy. My heart was nearly in my throat when we were signing in. I don't know how you keep so cool.'
Sherlock let his lips quirk into a smile and Molly's heart beat spiked again at the sight. She had never managed to get over her feelings for this strange, gorgeous, acerbic man and she doubted she ever would.
He had thrown his coat over another chair and she had copied him at unbuttoning her jacket as they both sat down, gruffly thanking the waiter for their drinks.
They chatted easily as they waited for Mycroft but fifteen minutes later they were interrupted by the manager who informed them that Mr Holmes' office had telephoned to say he was running late and would be another hour.
'Are you happy to wait? I could arrange for some more drinks.'
Sherlock sighed and thought for a moment before answering. 'Yes, same again and then please ensure we are not disturbed.'
The drinks were duly brought through and the door closed discreetly behind them leaving them alone in the dimly lit room which reeked of masculinity and understated money. All the chairs were old and leather; wing back chairs near the crackling fire and a studded, ancient, green, leather settee against the wall. The furniture was similarly aged with small side tables, a desk and a sideboard all made from a rich, dark red, mahogany.
'You can relax now if you want...maybe take the wig off. I can tell it's irritating you.'
Molly looked back at Sherlock and smiled with relief as she started to remove it. He was right it had been bothering her, making her scalp feel all itchy.
He stood and walked over to the fireplace, resting his drink on the mantel piece and Molly followed him over glad to be able to stretch her legs. She shrugged off her jacket and tie and unbuttoned the top of the shirt grateful to be able to breathe again. She didn't envy men having to wear collars and ties all day.
Sherlock seemed to be looking at her strangely but she didn't pay too much attention as she started to unpin her hair. She thought she'd got them all until Sherlock stepped forwards and removed one from the top of her head before he slowly brushed through her hair with his hands. The sensation sent a shudder through her whole body and she was suddenly aware of just how near he was to her. His face seemed so much closer than normal and she had a sudden, overwhelming desire to kiss him. It was such a powerful feeling that she had to step back and out of his personal space before she embarrassed herself.
'Sorry, I...umm...I think the whiskey is going to my head a little. I'm not used to it.'
Her words seemed to remind Sherlock of his own glass as he turned and picked it up, draining the contents. She didn't notice the fact that his hand was shaking slightly.
She wiped a hand over her face, trying to calm her thoughts, and it was then that she remembered the moustache and she giggled at the thought of how ridiculous she must look with it. She licked her lips, feeling the odd sensation of bristles against her tongue. Sherlock looked at her sideways but she could see he was amused as well.
Without even thinking she blurted out. 'I wonder what it's like to kiss someone when I'm the one with the moustache.'
Sherlock turned to face her and she saw him bite his bottom lip and frown and she wondered what he was thinking. She didn't need to wonder for long.
'Well, given I've never kissed anyone with a moustache why don't you kiss me, that way we can both see what it's like.'
Her eyes widened in shock and she simply wasn't sure that she'd heard him correctly. Her mouth felt dry and she knew her palms were sweating as she wiped them on her trousers.
'Sorry?'
He took a step closer. 'You heard? I'm always up for a new experience. So...given there is no one else here for you to try out the feeling, you should kiss me.'
Molly swallowed heavily and knew it was the alcohol that made her step forward and slide her hands up his chest and around his neck allowing her to pull herself closer to his height. She didn't look into his eyes, she couldn't; she knew she'd lose her nerve if she did that. So instead she closed them and let her mouth press against his.
For a moment they stayed like that with Molly pressed against Sherlock and him not responding and Molly felt despair and embarrassment rise up within her. What did she think would happen? He was just humouring her but just as she started to pull away, their lips separating, his hands came up to her waist holding her and after a moment of staring directly into her eyes he bent his head and this time he kissed her.
Don't worry, I'm not going to leave you waiting too long for part two, it should be up tomorrow. Next chapter...Entering ;). Let me know what you think so far.
