Author's note 1: This dream story contains less of the spiritual themes than I usually have (although it is touched upon in the first chapter). Nevertheless, I enjoyed writing it, and I still try to portray the deep love between Sherlock and Molly in this story, so hopefully you'll find it enjoyable.
"If I wasn't everything you think I am, everything I think I am, would you still want to help me?" He regarded her seriously, stepping even closer, so close he could touch her.
"What do you need?" She repeated the words, looking at him steadily.
What do I need?
"You." Even as Sherlock said the words, he recognised that he needed Molly for more than her help. Her gaze was locked on his, completely open and sincere. Even when he'd been dismissive of her earlier that day in the lab, he had known that she would always be there for him. She had offered her help after all.
Yes, he would definitely need her help in order for his plan to have the best chance at succeeding, but it was more than that. He needed her to know that he wasn't the fraud he was being portrayed as, even if that damaging, false information had not yet publicly come to light.
As if by some unseen hand, he felt himself being guided even closer until he followed the impulse to raise a hand to her cheek and touch her lips with his own. Despite his lack of experience, her mouth felt so warm and inviting, and he detected a trace of strawberry lip gloss. So sweet.
It was decidedly better than the kiss he had given her on the cheek at Christmas time.
He was just about to put his other hand up to clasp her face properly and experiment a little more with this wonderful sensation that was spreading through him, when he felt Molly's hands on his chest, pushing him away.
"Sherlock," she said, a little breathlessly, "I...I have no idea what just happened, but I think this is probably not the best time for you to kiss me," adding hastily, "not that it didn't feel wonderful." She looked down shyly.
Sherlock felt a little disappointed at her pushing him away, yet relieved at the same time. Apparently he wasn't complete rubbish at kissing if she had thought it wonderful. He forced himself to pay attention to her next words, as she directed her gaze at him once again.
"You just told me you think you're going to die. What's going on? I'm assuming you don't mean literally." Raising an eyebrow, she crossed her arms over her chest and waited expectantly.
Sherlock sighed, and clasped his hands behind his back for fortitude. "Well, obviously I am hoping to survive. At present I'd say my odds for survival are approximately seventeen percent without your intervention. With your assistance, illegal as it may be, your help," he amended, trying to lessen the formal tone of his words, "I'd estimate that my chances of survival rise to approximately eighty-seven percent."
Sherlock's heart sank when Molly shook her head and said emphatically, "No!"
Of course, it was ridiculous of him to expect she should risk her career in order to help him, but it still hurt.
He could feel the light going out of his eyes. "I'm sorry, Molly. I understand. I shouldn't have tried to bring you into this mess." His shoulders hunched in defeat, and he turned away from her.
A touch on his arm halted his movement, and he turned his head to look at her once more, seeing the shocked look on her face as she said urgently, "No, Sherlock, you're the one who's not understanding. I didn't mean I wouldn't help you. I meant that eighty-seven percent is not good enough. Whatever it is I have to do to help you with this, I will do it, and we need to improve on those odds as well."
He expelled a breath as relief washed over him, and he straightened his shoulders once more, regarding her seriously. "Are you sure? My life may be on the line, but your career may be at risk as well. What I need you to do is, as I mentioned already, not exactly legal."
"If helping you means the difference between life and death, I'll do anything. You should know that by now." There was such an earnest expression on her face, and he longed to kiss her again, to thank her, but this was not the time.
Instead, he took her hand and squeezed it gently. "Thank you, Molly."
For the next two hours they sat together in the lab and he outlined his plan. He had envisioned thirteen different scenarios in which Moriarty might try to trap him. Mycroft was already aware of what was going on, although he would still need to apprise him of the final details, and let him know that Molly was on board.
Molly absently twirled a few stray strands of hair around her finger that had come loose from her ponytail. "Sherlock, we are going to need a name for each one of those scenarios. I'm not going to remember by numbers."
"What do you suggest?" he asked, shifting slightly in his seat to face her more fully.
Molly bit her lip and considered for a moment before answering. "How about something that involves saving life. Like Prince Charming did when he kissed Snow White? So, operation Snow White could be one of them."
Sherlock pressed his lips together and rolled his eyes at her absurd notion. "I agree to classifying the scenarios by name. However, I would deem fairytale titles a little inappropriate considering the gravity of the situation."
She furrowed her brow and pursed her lips in what Sherlock thought was the most adorable manner. Why had he not noticed the sweet curve of her upper lip before?
He had to give himself a mental shake when she finally responded. "All right then, how about Operation Lazarus? Operation Resurrection? Or for that matter, Operation Jesus?"
Sherlock frowned at her. "I said no fairytales, Molly. And who the hell is Lazarus anyway?"
Molly put her hands on her hips and glared at him. "Don't mock what you don't know. Jesus raised Lazarus from the dead in the Bible."
Sherlock did a double-take and looked at her in frank astonishment. "You believe in Biblical accounts?"
Molly stiffened her posture. "As a matter fact, I do." Then she added, with a withering look, "And if you still want my help, I'll thank you to not make light of my beliefs."
Sherlock raised his hands in surrender. "Fine, fine. Have it your way. You name the scenarios, and I'll make sure Mycroft knows them as well." This was definitely not a battle he wanted to engage in with Molly.
Her answering smile at winning a small victory nearly melted his heart. How had he not realised before what a beautiful smile she had as well as those eminently kissable lips?
Finally, he stretched and rose to his feet. "I need to speak with Mycroft to get everything else organised as quickly as possible. I only have a few hours left. I'll text you with the final details once I know what's going on."
"So soon?" Molly's voice broke on the second word, and Sherlock saw the fear in her eyes.
"It has to be that way, and technically I'm on the run right now, anyway." He gave her a wry smile and raised a finger to her lips when she opened her mouth, presumably to ask for an explanation. "Not now, Molly. I'll explain later. You need to get home and get some rest before your early shift. I'll be counting on you, and you need to be alert."
She stood as well and slipped her arms around his waist, hugging him tightly.
His arms automatically came around her as well, and when she looked up at him, he had that overwhelming urge to kiss her. After all, it might be his last chance to do so. Even as he leaned down, he felt Molly raising herself on tiptoes to meet him halfway. When their lips met, he felt that same tingling sensation, almost like electricity running through him. It was as if she sparked something within him that he had not known before even existed. They clung together for some moments before Sherlock reluctantly pulled away.
"You really do need to go and get some sleep, while I finish getting things organised," he told her, while tracing a line along her cheek.
He saw her lips tremble slightly as she responded. "Sherlock, where are you going to stay if you have to go through with it? You'll need somewhere to hide."
Sherlock groaned and ran a hand through his hair in frustration. "I've been so caught up in these plans that I hadn't thought that far. I guess I'll ask Mycroft if he can find me a safe house."
"No." His eyebrows lifted in surprise at the emphatic nature in which she had spoken the word. She looked at him and said hesitatingly, "You can stay with me. You know where I live. I'll put the spare key under the mat for you." She gave him a weak smile. "Obviously I won't be able to leave the hospital until the end of my shift, and if things go the way you expect, I'm going to have an awful lot of work to do."
He considered the offer for a moment, then nodded. "Very well. Thank you, Molly."
She flashed him a tight-lipped smile. "You're welcome. Be safe, Sherlock." Then she picked up her bag and left the lab.
Sherlock watched her go and spent a few precious moments thinking about the woman who counted. What was it that she saw in him anyway? Why indeed was it that she was able to see him in a way nobody else could?
These were questions for which he had no answer and unfortunately he did not really have the time to even ponder them right now. The clock was ticking in this game of chess he was playing with James Moriarty, and he intended to be the victor.
Sherlock left the lab himself soon afterwards and headed over to see Mycroft. It was a long, sleepless night, but everything was finally arranged to his satisfaction. Mycroft provided him with a disguise, should he need it, a false beard, a beanie and sunglasses. His older brother also approved of the idea to name the scenarios, and Sherlock admitted to him honestly that it was Molly who had suggested it.
Mycroft looked thoughtful and made a rather surprising response. "It appears your pathologist is a rather exceptional woman."
Sherlock folded his arms defensively. "She is not my pathologist," he informed his brother haughtily. But I think I would like her to be, he thought to himself silently.
Mycroft merely quirked his lips. "Nevertheless, she is to be commended in her willingness to help you, brother mine, even as far as allowing you to share her accommodations."
Sherlock shrugged nonchalantly, as he rose to leave, now that everything was in place. His homeless network was on alert as well. They would be standing by, waiting for Mycroft's confirmation text. He turned his head over his shoulder as he prepared to leave and told his brother something he had not planned on saying. "Molly is my friend, Mycroft."
He was just about to exit when Mycroft's voice stopped him. "If all goes as planned I will see that you have some clothes delivered to Miss Hooper's flat, and then we will decide your next move." Sherlock felt his brothers hand on his shoulder and turned.
Much to his surprise Mycroft then said, "Good luck, brother mine," and extended his hand.
"Thank you," he responded gravely, accepting the farewell handshake, then returned to the hospital to wait for John to arrive.
And as dawn broke over London, Sherlock waitedto face niss nemesis.
The game was well and truly on.
Author's note 2: No canon divergence yet, but the story will weave in and out of canon scenes through Season 3, episode 2. What do you think of it so far?
Did you like the little talk about the naming of the scenarios? I mean, really, how would Sherlock even have named that one Operation Lazarus when he obviously has no clue about the Bible?
Favourites/follows and reviews always appreciated to direct others towards my works.