As Sherlock gently opened his eyes as the final bow strike slid across his violin strings he was aware of the street lights just outside 221B Baker Street slowly flicking into life one by one, slightly staggered in their dance into the impending drawing in of the autumn night.
He was facing the street at the window of the flat, stood clad in his dressing gown and pyjamas, barefoot, his damp curls post shower softly framing his face. Slowly lowering the instrument he breathed gently with slow measured breaths. Contented after a busy 14 hours or so of sleuthing with John Watson and the Met down at the docks to apprehend a particularly nasty gang of local thugs who had been terrorizing local businessmen, followed by an early evening session with Molly Hooper in the lab analyzing and cataloguing forensic results from the same case to file away as useful information for the future.
The last few months post the excitement and somewhat dangerous drug practices by Sherlock, of the suspected return of Moriarty had gently settled into a busy but comforting rhythm for the detective. Lestrade needed him more than ever in the anxious times the country was facing both economically, and politically due to high terror alerts and social tensions. He had managed to establish a regular working pattern with John that Mary supported despite them having a new daughter at home.
His relationship with Molly whilst difficult at first - once she discovered that not only had he been on his way to his death, but had decided to circumvent it by trying to overdose on the trip out – both without letting her know of his plans, had now found its footing back in a fond and close relationship – one he could trust and rely upon. He was trying much harder than he ever had to be kind and thoughtful in his dealings with her, and was much less reticent at letting her know how important she was to him. They had agreed on total honesty from now on and Sherlock, whilst initially perplexed and annoyed by Molly's subsequent sterner treatment of any silliness on his part, was secretly grateful that she had discovered her true backbone and would not let him get away with any of his old tricks.
As he began to turn over the days events in his mind he was aware of a car pulling up outside – slowly aligning with the kerb by the flat out of the corner of his eye. As he took in the sleek black form of the executive transport he groaned inwardly – not wanting to have to deal with his brother at the end of what had been a most productive and pleasant day.
His phone chimed just as he moved to place his violin away safely in its case – the incoming text making him glance down again at the street to see that nobody had yet emerged from the car.
"its me, am alone no one knows I am here yet. Can I come up – H"
A muscle in his right eyelid twitched involuntarily and he sighed as he recognised his tell, the prod of something from his history banks knocking to escspe their dusty confines, he knew he didnt have a choice the memories and events would slowly make their way forward like a dealer shuffling his life deck - pushing what was behind clearly to the top of the pile.
Sherlock moved closer to the window as he pressed the call button on his phone and waited with it pressed to his ear for the texter to pick up.
"Are you hurt – do you need me to come down and get you ?"
"No – I will be fine to come up on my own. I am sorry Sherlock but I didn't know where else to go. He will know wherever I end up but is not likely to follow me here"
The call ended and Sherlock slowly lowered the phone as the door of the drivers door opened and Simon Watts his brothers usual driver stepped out – dressed in casual clothes – glancing up at the window and smiling at him nervously as he moved round to the passenger door of the other side of the car to open it.
Dressed in a black jogging suit, her hair hastily tied into a messy ponytail, a woman took Simon's offered hand and stepped out of the car reaching in as an afterthought to grab a small bag. The two embraced on the sidewalk and she then slammed the door and made her way up the steps of 221B as the car gently slid away back into the London traffic.
As the front door gently opened and closed and footsteps began to make their way up the stairs Sherlock opened the door to the flat making his way quickly to the top of the stairs to greet his unexpected guest.
She smiled tiredly up at him as she reached the top step just in front of him. He could see tear tracks barely dried on her cheeks and small smudges of mascara from makeup she obviously had not had time to remove. They stared at each other for a split second before he gently tugged at her right wrist pulling her into his embrace where she almost collapsed in a heap of sobs that wracked her frame in great heaves of unhappiness.
He managed to gently guide her into the flat and swept her up bridal style taking them both to the sofa where he hugged her to him on his lap whilst she slowly calmed down, clutching at his dressing gown as her sobs slowly lessened and she began to huff for breaths as her breathing began to return to normal.
Sherlock placed both hands at the side of her face and slowly moved her away from him a fraction so he could study her face intently. Satisfied that she looked calmer he gently placed a kiss on the middle of her forehead and held her once more tightly against him where she snuggled in as close as she could wrapping her arms now around his torso.
They stayed like this for some time until she was truly calm and her breathing had slowed finally matching his soothing slow inhales and exhales in time with the slow circles he was making on her back with his warm hand placed flat in a comforting show of contact.
"Do you want to tell me what the wanker I am genetically linked to has done now or do you need a hot bubble bath first ? "
She laughed gently at his barbed language and raised her head to look at him.
"Hot bubble bath I think, thanks"
They both stood and he led her by the hand to the bathroom where once he had her safely sat on the loo seat he opened the taps and added bath salts and oil.
"Keep it topped up nice and hot, and I will bring you a glass of the red you like and some towels ok"
He gently raised her chin up to look at him with his right finger and thumb and she silently pressed her face against his hand and nodded.
Sherlock slipped out of the bathroom closing the door behind him making his way to the kitchen intent on rummaging past the specimen jars in one of his top cupboards for a bottle of wine he knew was still hidden up there somewhere. As he stepped past the kitchen table he heard his phone chime once more with an incoming text message.
Retrieving his phone from the table by the window he opened the message sighing as he did so, whilst able to cope with the immediate aftermath of the unhappy female currently in his bath tub - he wasnt sure he could also deal with the instigator of such emotion right now in a calm and helpful manner.
"I believe you may have something of mine brother – M"
Sherlock hesitated a mere second before selecting the call option and smirked silently to himself as it was answered after a single ring.
"I have something that used to be associated with you but I am not so sure that is still the case Mycroft."
He paused taking a breath, softening his voice as he carried on speaking.
"Leave this with me for the moment – I will see what I can do to rescue the situation. I suggest you don't try and complicate matters by interfering I will let you know when its safe for you to come and grovel – send a bag of useful items to Dr Hoopers flat in the next hour"
He didn't wait for a response before ending the call and beginning a text to Molly.
"Need your help – have a damsel in distress please come with items that will arrive at yours shortly – may need you to babysit for me for a couple of days – S"
The message safely sent Sherlock retrieved the glass of wine and some clean fluffy towels and went back into the bathroom to check on his guest.
Her face fresh and clean, her hair wet and slicked back to her head Sherlock thought how tiny and vulnerable she looked like this surrounded by bubbles in the foamy water of the bath.
"Hey – I bring alcoholic beverages to loosen that tongue of yours"
He gently handed her the glass of wine and placed the towels on the loo seat.
"Want to talk about it yet – or are we gonna do dark and mysterious – I can do either – just need to understand the terms of this little get together"
He grinned warmly at her and was relieved to see her face turn up into a sly smile – before she emitted a long sigh and a tear once again left her right eye and began to role down her washed cheek.
Without missing a beat Sherlock sat by the side of the tub and gently wiped the offending water droplet away with his left thumb.
"I'm ok Sherlock – just so sad and angry right now, I don't want to be on my own I love him too much, but I am not sure I can forgive this one. Don't worry will be out of the tub soon – before I prune up anyway. Can I have tea as well as wine ?"
"Coming right up, will leave a spare dressing gown and something to sleep in on the bed – have asked for some stuff to be sent over so you should have some supplies soon"
The detective stood leaning against the kitchen counter, his feet crossed at the ankles as he waited for the kettle to boil. Sentiment, should be so simple but was so easy to fuck up. He had had his own share of mistakes with those he cared for over the last few months but it was unlike his brother to slip up with H, despite his protestations over emotions generally his relationship with his PA had seemed rock solid up until now and this turn of events unnerved him.
Tea stirred and biscuits found and plated he was just turning away from the kitchen when he was aware of his guest standing quietly watching him. Dressed in his spare pyjamas and dressing gown, barefoot and glistening with her damp hair in a towel.
"I am sorry Sherlock, couldn't stem the girly emotions there for a while, I didn't want to make you uncomfortable"
He grinned at her thrusting forward the mug of tea.
"Its fine H, I think it's a good 3 years since you have had a cry on my shoulder so I am sure I can cope with a session of emotional outpouring. Want to share yet ?"
"Its bad. I need to know that you will be listening as my friend Sherlock but also Mycroft's brother, no heroics ok – I didn't come here hoping you would do anything other than give me a safe space where I knew he wouldn't go for a while ok."
"Noted"
They made their way to the living room, Sherlock settling himself into his chair, legs crossed whilst H tucked herself into John's, tucking her legs up underneath her.
He studied her again for a few seconds watching her whilst she sipped her tea and then slowly leaned forward elbows on his knees as his face began to show his deduction, his mouth dropping open ever so slightly.
"I'm so sorry H" His hand extended out into the space between them and she briefly reached across squeezing his with her own before pulling back to settle once again with her drink.
"Its ok, I'm ok, it wasn't much, just a shot of coke, over and done with and I actually felt fine the morning after….. it was just …. He asked me to do it… it was part of a sting. He knew it was delicate and sent me in as the 'date' – had been working with the target for over a week – ended up full monty, overnight, part of the 'party' had to do the line to fit in, had to stay. He was willing to let me stay the night, willing to let me snort Sherlock, after everything. I kept on going assuming he would blink and pull me out – but he didn't, he didn't."
Once again tears slowly fell down her face as she quietly sat clutching the mug of tea as if the warmth was the only thing grounding her, keeping from completely breaking down.
Sherlock bridged the space in one stride falling on his knees in front of her and taking the mug from her hands drew her too him. Once he had her in his grasp she broke down again, sobs wracking her.
"Did they hurt you H ?"
"No I was safe- they had no idea, its my heart thats broken Sherlock, how could he"
"I will never understand why my brother and I are so spectacularly bad at this stuff H, but such a low blow is strange even for him. What do you want to do, what do you need me to do"
"I don't know if I can forgive him, but he hasnt even asked for forgiveness Sherlock. We might be done"
The night had drawn in fully by the time they had picked at a takeaway and Sherlock had convinced her to get ready to go to bed and get some sleep.
The knock on the door to the flat interrupted him gently pulling her to her feet from the sofa ready to cajole her into the bedroom.
"Come in Molly"
Molly Hooper entered the flat, large holdhall in hand clutching a bunch of flowers in the other.
She quickly scanned the scene before her, her eyebrows raising almost imperceptibly as she witnessed the detective plant a gentle kiss on the forehead of the woman in front of him in the dressing gown before she turned and headed for the bedroom giving Molly a shy smile as she passed her.
She waited until the door was safely closed before turning back to Sherlock who was now running his hands through his hair before dropping himself onto the sofa with a big sigh.
"What do you need to know Molly – you are staring at me like a gawping goldfish right now and I am knackered if I am honest"
He smiled at her nervously aware that the scene she had just witnessed was not Sherlock Holmes normal modus operandi.
"What on earth is Anthea doing in your flat in her Pjs – and why am her bringing her stuff ? Why are you comforting her ? Is she ok ?" She hissed trying to whisper aware that she didn't want to cause the upset woman any embarrassment.
"To cut a long story short Anthea has been in a relationship with my brother for the best part of 5 years, and he has just broken her heart by acting like the biggest wanker on the planet, for the sake of his all important job. It would appear that I have to pick up the pieces of this debacle as just about the only place he wont follow her is here at my flat ! "
Molly held the bag out to Sherlock – who took it from her and proceeded to aim for the bedroom whilst Molly took the flowers into the kitchen determined to find a utensil that didn't contain human flesh that would serve as a vase.
When Sherlock returned closing the bedroom door softly behind him he found Molly sitting in Johns chair nursing her own mug of tea, a steaming fresh cup on the coffee table ready for him.
He squeezed her hand in silent thanks as he passed her on his way to his own chair and picked up his fresh drink.
"I don't think she will be going home for a couple of days as Mycroft is an arse of the highest order, is there any chance you can spend some time with her Molly this weekend – and take her mind off things – think I have exhausted my reserves of emotional concern this evening"
He smiled wanly at her knowing she was observing him closely.
"You actually seemed to be doing just fine detective, almost as if you knew what you were doing !"
"Yes well – you know my methods Dr Hooper" – he grinned at her over the rim of him mug as he blew on the hot liquid. " sometimes needs must"
They sat in companionable silence for a while and then discussed what time Molly would arrive tomorrow to keep Anthea company, arranging to take her out for the day round London whilst Sherlock remained at home working. It was almost midnight by the time Sherlock called Molly a cab and waved her off from the doorstep of the flat.
The Saturday morning was bright and sunny and Hyde Park was awash with familes and couples enjoying the weather as Molly and Anthea sat on their picnic rug working their way through a picnic of goodies supplied by Mrs Hudson first thing in the morning. Molly didn't like to think what time of the day Sherlock would have pestered the poor woman to get this organized in time for them to leave.
Molly had never had much interaction with the PA before other than her visits to Mycroft when she was always present in some form hovering in the general vicinity in case he needed anything. She was pleased to discover however that outside of her role – in which Molly found her a little scary, Anthea was good company and they had chatted easily about all sorts as they spent their morning together in the sunshine.
Being the stalwart 'mother' figure Mrs Hudson was she had included sparkling wine in the hamper and they were now on their 3rd glass and feeling sleepy when Anthea slowly put hers down and regarded Molly thoughtfully.
"You havnt asked me any tough questions yet Dr Hooper"
"That's because its non of my business. I am just happy to help you enjoy the day Anthea and hopefully feel better. I have had enough failed relationships to know that a girly day out does you the world of good when the male of the species fucks up ! " Molly grinned at her over her glass.
"That wasn't what I meant and you know it Molly – ask, anything you want – its fine, you deserve to know whatever you want to know you have been more than kind to me this weekend just when I needed it – and I know you have only done it because the skinny cheek boned bugger asked you to"
They both smiled at that as Molly carefully lowered her glass.
"OK…. He called you "H" this morning – why ?"
"He called me 'H' cos my real name is Helen. Anthea is my new name for my new life, for my Mycroft life. But that cant be the most pressing thing you want to know Molly surely ?"
"How does he know your real name then" She paused for a second, "and how come he is so comfortable touching you ?" He mind flew back to the earlier part of the morning when Sherlock had shooed them both out of the door giving them both a kiss on the forehead on the way out.
Anthea took a deep breath and looked at Molly before smiling.
"We have a history Sherlock and I. I knew him before Mycroft. I met him in rehab 9 years ago. I had gone off the rails being looked after in high class circles to feed a drug habit I had developed. I was bright but stupid and was soon in over my head with heroin and coke. I didn't want to be in rehab but knew I needed to, neither did Sherlock. We realized we were kindred spirits and sort of made a pact that we would help each other through it. So we did, and we got close and we ended up being physically close in rehab. It kept us off drugs, was a new addiction that we could feed and still keep healthy. There was never any danger of it carrying on once we were out – it was an agreed means to an end. But we have always looked out for each other ever since if either of us is really in need, especially in danger of drugs we know we can rely on each other if we don't want to succumb.
Sherlock realized I was bright and devious, just what Mycroft looks for and introduced us and I ended up working for him, and a few years later ended up falling for him. So now I suppose he is like my big brother in some ways. Mycroft doesn't know we were ever together physically."
Molly raised her glass to her lips and took a long gulp of the amber liquid before letting it drop again.
"What else do you need to know Molly … " Anthea grinned at her as she watched the pathologist process this information.
"Was he any good?" She blushed … grinning down into the picnic blanket. "I mean, I dont know what I mean I just thought he had no idea what to do under those circumstances - if you know what I mean"... she was flustered now. H reached over and grasped her fingers gently.
"Trust me – he is worth waiting for Molly. He isnt the inexperienced scared virgin that Mycroft believes him to be... he just keeps that side of himself private, or used to. Nowadays it just dosnt exist for him - he has pushed those desires, those urges back into a dusty cupboard in that mind palace of his under lock and key, was terrified I think that it would interfere with the work. And lately I think he is terrified that it would put those he loves under an enormous threat - and despite appearances he is actually one of the most selfless people I know on that score " Anthea grinned and slowly reached over and caught Molly's hand in her own. "He just isn't ready yet – all that sentiment gets in the way – but he will be I just know it, don't give up yet. Do you know what surprised me more than anything yesterday Molly - it was his ability to hold me and comfort me with a muscle memory as if he had been inside me a mere moment ago - he hasnt forgotton any of that stuff - its just buried deep. He has I love Molly Hooper coursing through those steely veins of his I can tell – he just dare not give in just yet – but he will. Apart from anything else that dusty old cupboard may just have had a spring clean - it may not be as easy for him to stuff it all back in there in the way her used to"
Molly buried her nose in her wine glass whilst she processed this nugget of insider information, aware that whilst her stomach was doing bellyflips she also felt remarkably at peace in other ways. Glancing up they both burst out laughing as H topped up their wine.
Later that afternoon as they sat chatting over their flat whites in a small café by the park Anthea's mobile chimed with an incoming text.
"Tosspot has asked if he can come and see you, shall I agree or send him chocolate éclairs ? - S"
Anthea smiled softly – "maybe he will beg for forgiveness after all"
Sherlock and Molly both stood in the kitchen leaning on their respective worktops trying not to eavesdrop as the muffled conversation drifted from the bedroom. When the ladies had returned it was to a slyly grinning Sherlock and a contrite looking Mycroft, who looked tired and withdrawn, his hair uncharacteristically mussed and odd socks peeking out from under his trouser turn-ups.
The two former lovebirds had withdrawn for a conversation to Sherlock's room whilst Sherlock and Molly gossiped like teenagers in the kitchen in hushed tones until they ran out of funny scenarios to giggle over.
The opening of the bedroom door alerted them to the impending arrival of Anthea and Mycroft and they were relieved to see the couple emerge hand in hand both looking slightly red eyed.
Molly smiled in relief at the sight, whilst she had got the gist of what had gone on from Sherlock she knew the world Anthea moved in was very different to her own and she was convinced that if Mycroft realized what a horrible miscalculation he had made that she may be able to forgive him.
Anthea came over and gave both Sherlock and Molly a hug in turn before grabbing her bag and starting to make her way down the stairs. Sherlock walked Mycroft to the door. As they reached it the elder Holmes stopped and turned to face Molly.
"My thanks Dr Hooper – you have once again being a great support to my family" He raised his umbrella at her and turned again to leave.
He stopped for a second as Sherlock's hand gripped the door ready to close it behind him.
"I know why she came here Sherlock, and I thank you for looking after her"
"In that case brother you probably are also aware that if she needs me again I will be here, and next time I may not be encouraging her to wait it out"
Mycroft turned his eyes skyward with a grimace ..."Noted, thank you".
With that Mycroft left the doorway and Sherlock closed it firmly behind him.
He clapped his hands together rubbing them like a schoolboy finally freed from class.
"Right then – any biscuits left in that picnic hamper Molly"
The twinkle in his eye made her laugh out loud as she playfully slapped him on the shoulder.
Cake and biscuits over Molly was finishing the final bit of washing up when Sherlock approached and leaned carefully against the wall of the kitchen watching her.
"Thank you Molly Hooper once again – that would have been …. taxing to have to continue for the whole weekend. You saved my bacon yet again"
"Not sure I believe that in this instance detective" Molly smiled gently at him, "you looked like you could have managed if the need arose - seems it all comes flooding back to you if it has to - bit like riding a bike" She looked him straight in the eye as she said this and was rewarded with a barest flicker of panic followed by what John liked to call his buffering face. She made them both a cup of tea whilst she calmly waited for the detective to come back to the land of the living. Seeing him blink and slightly screw his eyes at her whilst he studied her she felt emboldened to ask her follow up question.
"So how smart is Anthea ?"
She could see him considering his response carefully before he smirked affectionately at her and replied
"She has never been wrong about anything of any significance in all the time I have known her" He studied her carefully
"Is that good enough for now Molly Hooper ?"
She smiled at him, slowly catching her bottom lip with her teeth.
It will keep me going for a while Sherlock Holmes".