DAY 1: FIRST MEETING
14 May 2017
Summary: Sherlock meets the tenant of his flat before he has even moved out.
Prompt: First Meeting (Non-Canon/Headcanon)
Rating: T, for a tiny curse
A/N: This is a soulmates AU imagining of their first meeting, in which a timer on one's wrist stops counting down once they've met their soulmate. I also added my own take on the timer thing. Hope y'all enjoy this one!
I own nothing. Everything belongs to Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, BBC, Steven Moffat, and Mark Gatiss. If I owned Sherlock and Molly Hooper, then there would be a lot more Sherlolly in the show. All mistakes are mine. Reviews and constructive criticism are welcome.
AT MONTAGUE STREET
Sherlock straightened up from sealing a box labelled 'Lab Equipment' and cursed under his breath when he heard a knock on his front door. He glanced at his watch, letting out a soft annoyed groan at the sight of the timer on his left inner wrist. I haven't even phoned Mycroft, and his impeccable and dramatic timing won't allow his movers to arrive too early. It can't be my landlord, and my parents are in Oklahoma. A client then. Sighing, he picked his way around the numerous boxes littering his sitting room. He dramatically swung the door open. "May I help you?"
The petite, auburn-haired woman standing before him paled. "I'm… Uh, I'm…" She hitched her white tote bag with green stripes higher over her shoulder, her hands fidgeting with the straps.
He rolled his eyes and heaved an impatient sigh. "This had better be at least an eight if you're a client. I don't have time for anything less than that."
She knitted her eyebrows together and frowned. "Client? Wh-why would I be your client?"
He studied her. Stiffness in her neck suggests she'd been sleeping on a couch. Not hers, a friend's. She's short, but I estimate she's only a couple of years younger than me. Green timer on her wrist and the absence of a diamond ring or gold band on her left ring finger, as well as the fact that she's here by herself, suggest she's single or unmarried, possibly both. Calluses on her fingers suggest she constantly wields steel instruments, such as scalpels. So medical professional, either a surgeon or a pathologist. Ah, Lestrade mentioned yesterday that Stamford just hired a new pathologist to replace the incompetent buffoon that always refused to let me work properly. It takes six minutes to drive from this building to Barts, so she must also be a new tenant. There are no other vacancies in this building; therefore, she's moving into my flat. Interesting.
He nodded and his mouth curled into a small smile. He folded his arms across his chest and leant against the door frame. "I haven't even left yet, but Mr Wellesley already has someone waiting to move into my flat?"
Stunned, she stared at him. "H-how the hell did you know that?"
"Where is he anyway?" But his soon-to-be former landlord was nowhere in sight. He smirked at the otherwise empty corridor before turning his gaze back on her. "Isn't he supposed to escort you here? Or is he too scared that I'd punch him again?"
She shuffled her feet and glanced behind her. "Well, he did, uh, ride the lift with me. But then he said he had a phone call he'd forgotten to make earlier, so he went back down. He was too fidgety and his smile looked too forced though, so he was probably lying." She narrowed her eyes at him. "Is that why he's kicking you out? Because you punched him?"
Smart woman. Good. "I only punched him, because he laid a hand on his pregnant wife after she confronted him about his infidelity. He's been cheating on her with several tenants in this building."
Her brown eyes grew wide. "Whoa. That's horrible. He's horrible! Did she catch him cheating on her?"
He tilted his head, and his face scrunched up comically. "Weeeeeeeelllllllll, no. I told her."
"Did you catch him?"
"Nope!" He popped the 'p' and grinned at her. "I deduced it. See, it's a special skill of mine, developed since I was a child. So I'm quite good at it. The fact that he propositioned me only confirmed it."
She nodded a few times and pointed her finger at him. "Ah, that's how you figured out who I am." She flashed him a bright smile. "I'm impressed."
He inwardly smirked at her elevated breathing and the dilation of her pupils. Not just impressed. She's attracted to me. "Are you Dr Woods's replacement as well?"
She stared at him again, but she recovered more quickly this time. "Y-yeah. I'm starting on Monday, so I would like to move in soon, hopefully this weekend. I've been crashing at my uni friend's flat and sleeping on her sofa for a week. She actually drove the moving truck, and she and a bunch of our other friends are waiting to help me move in." She worried her bottom lip as she gazed up at him. "Uhhh, are you moving out… sometime in the next hour or so?"
He glanced behind him and considered how much longer it would take him to pack up his belongings. "I'm just finishing up here. Shouldn't be long now. Maybe half an hour, or even less. My hired movers should be here to load up the truck within ten minutes after I notify them." He uncrossed his arms and pushed himself off the door frame. He stuffed his hands in the pockets of the black jeans that he was forced to wear while packing up. "You're welcome to look around the place. If you want, you can even start moving in tonight." He smiled at her, surprising even himself.
He honestly had no idea why he was being polite to her. Ordinarily, he would not even engage her in a conversation, let alone a nearly pleasant one. She seems more intelligent than most people that works at Barts, although, of course, I'm still considerably cleverer. If I'm being honest with myself, I'd say she's aesthetically pleasing. Her eyes are a lovely shade of brown and seem… kind. Well, kinder than most people I've met. Also she's already physically attracted to me, so she might be less inclined to yell at me when I need to see a body or stay up all night in the path lab. That must be it.
"Um, hello? Are you all right?" she asked, her gentle voice and concerned tone pulling him out of his head.
He blinked a few times before chuckling. "Yeah, of course. I was just…" He paused as he thought of a decent reason for his brief trance. "I just got a brainwave."
She knitted her eyebrows together, but she said nothing.
Clearing his throat, he extended his right hand towards her. "Sherlock Holmes."
Her eyes darted between his face and his proffered hand. Biting her bottom lip, she shook his hand. "Molly Hooper. Pleased to meet you." She grinned at him before releasing his hand.
"Likewise." He stepped back and opened the door fully so she could see better into the front room. "Welcome to your new flat."
Blushing, she mumbled her thanks as she crossed the threshold.
He had already moved his things into his new flat when he noticed that the timer on his wrist was at zero. It had also turned grey. He ran the list of the people that he had met in the past 24 hours in his mind as he set up his makeshift lab in the kitchen. The timers on Mycroft's minions' wrists were still active when I interacted with them. Anthea's stopped counting down the moment she met my brother two years ago, so it's not her either.
His phone alerting him of a new text message interrupted his thoughts. He pulled it out of his pocket.
Why are both Mr Wellesley and Inspector Lestrade warning me about you? – xxMolly
He had nearly forgotten about Molly Hooper and that they had exchanged phone numbers before he left the building on Montague Street.
Is Lestrade there with a case? – SH
Yeah. He says it's a nine, whatever that means. Shall I send him to your new address? – xxMolly
Yes, please. I'm now at 221B Baker Street. Tell him to hurry if it's really a nine. – SH
Her reply arrived 10 seconds later.
Done. – xxMolly
He put his mobile back in his pocket and grinned at the prospect of a new case. Excellent! I haven't had a proper nine in two weeks!
Finished with setting up his lab equipment, he was moving to get his books out of their boxes when the image of Molly's timer flashed through his mind. It was also at zero, he thought as he stood frozen in the kitchen. He had glanced at it when she was gesturing with her left hand; but he was too engrossed in her description of a recent postmortem that she had performed, so the fact that it had stopped counting down and had turned grey only registered in his mind now. His heart thumped in his chest as the words 'zero' and 'soulmate' echoed in his brain. His hand trembled as he pulled his phone out of his pocket again.
When did your timer finish counting down? – SH
I dunno. I didn't even notice it until you mentioned it. It was still green and counting down when I was talking to Mr Wellesley in the lift. Why? – xxMolly
He shut his eyes for a moment and took a deep breath. His brother's words about caring being a disadvantage and the word 'Redbeard' crossed his mind. But he shook them off as he typed his reply.
Because mine was still active half an hour before you knocked on the door. I just noticed that it was at zero after I'd settled in my new flat. – SH
A full minute passed before his phone beeped again.
Are you saying that we're soulmates? – xxMolly
Yes. – SH
Oh, my God. – xxMolly
"Fuck," he muttered, just as 221B's doorbell rang.
I don't usually read or write soulmates AU fics with countdown timers. But I decided to add colours to the mix. So green timers are active, and they turn grey once they've stopped counting down. This way, it's much easier to see which ones have met their soulmates and which ones haven't.
So what do you think? Hate it? Like it? Love it?
