xx Enjoy and...my apologies, you'll see why, lol :D xx
NOTHING IS WORKING!
Sherlock Holmes was furious. He had tried and tried his hardest to ask out Molly Hooper, his pathologist. Oh yes, he was well past the 'ignore and forget' stage. His flatmate and friend, John Watson would go so far as to saying he was infatuated with the quiet morgue-dweller. Sherlock, no matter where he was, what he was doing and how hard he tried, could not get her out of his head. The wall had taken a considerable beating due to this. Sherlock had reached the conclusion that the only way to 'stop this' was to ask her out on just ONE date and then that would be that. Sherlock couldn't ignore these feelings any longer; it had gotten so bad, he found himself at Bart's even when he didn't have a case to solve…and Molly was still unaware. Then again, Sherlock wasn't exactly 'in tune' with flirting and dating himself. This is why he found it so difficult and he hated finding things difficult. His first approach had been to hand her some her flowers and announce they were for her. Molly had accepted them and carried out an analysis on them, presuming he wanted to detect some toxin for a case. The laughter coming from John that day had been unbearable. But today was going to be different.
Sherlock strolled confidently into St. Bart's lab, finding John and Molly already there. He straightened his coat and approached the pathologist who was working hard with some samples. He cleared his throat and Molly looked up, smiling widely and Sherlock's breath caught.
"I'd like to have coffee, Molly…"
With a glance towards John, Molly sighed and placed her pen on the table moving towards the lab doors, muttering 'black, two sugars' under her breath. Blinking in confusion, Sherlock turned towards John who was shaking with suppressing the urge to laugh. Sherlock scowled and sat next to him, folding his arms.
"Shut up."
Sherlock spent the rest of the day scowling furiously, sipping his coffee and staring at Molly, hoping to somehow project his thoughts into Molly's head. Sherlock hated this feeling of weakness she had on him. It wasn't until they had reached 221B that Sherlock turned to his flatmate, noticing his confused expression. Sherlock approached John and cleared his throat, desperation in his eyes.
"I need help. I cannot go on like this."
John nodded and gave a subtle smirk.
"Sherlock Holmes…you are smitten. I never I'd see it happen…I also never thought I'd see the day you'd admit to needing help. This is a good day for me…you are one of us."
Sherlock rolled his eyes and placed his hands in his pockets, shrugging dramatically.
"Ok, gloat. I suppose there is an online forum I could consult…or a magazine column that would prove more useful than your insight."
John chuckled, knowing Sherlock would never do that but sighed nevertheless.
"Fine…I've got just the thing."
Sherlock watched as John got to his feet and began rummaging in the bookcase. He handed Sherlock a small and very old book that John used in his early wooing days.
"I used to use this all the time…it got me places, Sherlock."
Sherlock scanned the book, scowling at it in disgust.
"You have got to be-"
"Just read it…changed my life. It never fails…I can guarantee it. It's like a guide. Pick-up lines, date tips and…um…" Sherlock frowned as John glowed red, glancing at the floor, whispering to the detective, "…bedroom tips."
Sherlock rolled his eyes and strolled over to the sofa, collapsing onto it heavily.
"I can assure you, it will not go that far. I just need to get this out of my system."
John folded his arms, nodding understandingly. There is no way you'll be able to just get it out of your system, Sherlock. You're an addict. John placed the book onto the coffee table and retreated to his chair, smirking to himself as Sherlock glanced towards it. John noticed he seemed to be arguing with himself about looking at it. He snatched it up suddenly, avoiding John's triumphant grin and flicked through the delicate pages.
CHAPTER 1 – PICK-UP LINES
Sherlock sighed dramatically, flicking through the introduction and settling for the drivel he was sure that was going to be written down.
1. I hope you know CPR, because you take my breath away.
Sherlock frowned and thought to himself. Hmmm, Molly knows cardio pulmonary resuscitation, despite working with specimens far beyond that stage. Not suitable at all.
2. Apart from being sexy, what do you do for a living?
Sherlock tilted his head from side to side in thought. Molly is a pathologist…I already know what she does for a living. No, try a different page. Sherlock thumbed through the pages and paused to scan through the senseless words.
8. I miss my teddy bear. Would you sleep with me?
Sherlock shook his head, breathing deeply. I haven't had a teddy bear since I was 6 months old. John watched with extreme interest as Sherlock's brain tried to comprehend 'normal people'.
12. That's a nice dress…it would look better on my bedroom floor.
Sherlock rolled his eyes and chuckled slightly. Molly hardly ever wears dresses. John's voice buzzed through the air and reached his ears.
"Well?"
Sherlock ignored him, instead choosing to sigh and tuck the book into his coat as he left the flat, earning a curious glance from the doctor. After hailing a cab, Sherlock took the little book out to examine on the way to Bart's.
16. You're so beautiful, you made me forget my pick-up line.
Sherlock frowned in confusion and shook his head angrily. HOW CAN I FORGET SOMETHING I NEVER HAD? Sherlock chose to ignore how the cab driver was giving him a strange look at his huff of irritation and how he threw the pages across the book.
21. Me without you is like a nerd without braces, a shoe without laces, aSentenceWithoutSpaces
Sherlock slammed the book closed. What even is that? Sherlock had arrived at St. Bart's now and was hurrying into the morgue, a deep frown on his face. Molly was bent over a body when he entered; she had chosen a skirt today and this particular item of clothing intrigued Sherlock greatly. He could also smell her perfume and it was intoxicating. Sherlock was suddenly aware at how Molly made him feel like a schoolboy with a crush. Molly turned then and beamed, snapping her gloves off.
"Hello Sherlock. Anything I can help you with?"
The detective shook his head and moved towards a stool. Molly shrugged and Sherlock hastily pulled out the book, flicking through the pages again.
If I told you that you had a great body, would you hold it against me? Sherlock blinked in confusion, before moving on.
Hello, I'm (your name) and you are...gorgeous. Molly already knows my name. Sherlock sighed; he was this close to giving up.
Are you as beautiful on the inside as you are on the outside? Obviously. Molly is caring and kind…sweet and very gentle, clever and natural. Perfection.
Is it hot in here or is it just you? Well, it's a morgue so-
"What are you reading?"
Sherlock quickly closed the book and hid it behind his back; how had I not heard her? She's wearing small heels, I would have heard her. Was I that engrossed? Molly folded her arms in deep interest as Sherlock shook his head lightly.
"Nothing."
Molly nodded softly and Sherlock swallowed, remembering one he saw earlier: 'You know I'd like to invite you over, but I'm afraid you're so hot that you'll skyrocket my air-conditioning bill.
"Molly…" Molly raised her eyes to his and Sherlock was about to learn that expectation and reality are two completely different things, "…just so you are aware, you shouldn't come to 221B."
Molly blinked in confusion and slight disappointment.
"Oh. Why?"
Sherlock bit his lip and gestured with his hands; the effort to remain focused was great indeed.
"Well, the bill would be too high. You'd…well, I'd have to cool the apartment…oh, never mind."
Sherlock turned away in irritation and hastily pulled his microscope closer. Molly bit back her smirk and leaned over his shoulder, whispering into his ear.
"You know…" Sherlock furrowed his brow, giving a small nod and wondering where she was going, and concentrated on how Molly's breath tickled his neck softly, "if God made anything more beautiful than you…he'd keep it for himself."
Sherlock raised his eyebrows as Molly stepped away, now hearing the tapping of her heels on the floor. He whirled around in his stool, but Molly had already left the morgue. Sherlock frowned in utter confusion, turning back to the microscope. He smirked when he noticed on the bench next to him, Molly had left the same book John had left him but Molly's was in slightly better condition. Sherlock opened the book and noticed a scrap of paper Molly had left on the first page.
Apparently, there's a chocolate company in America named Hershey'. They make millions of these sweets known as kisses every day. I'd like one from you…but I don't like chocolate so you'll have to be creative.
There was no stopping Sherlock's smirk now as he finished his work in record time. He hurried back to his flat, bursting in and ignoring John's angry mumbling. Sherlock settled into the sofa and closed his eyes, attempting to ignore John.
"So, how did it go?"
Sherlock shrugged, turning to his flatmate. Sherlock's eyes remained closed so he therefore failed to notice John's amused expression.
"That book is pathetic…they hardly made any sense."
John giggled and Sherlock opened his eyes, frowning at the Doctor. John tapped the chair and fixed Sherlock with a pleased expression.
"Oh, I wouldn't say that…"
Sherlock had been about to ask what he meant but John nodded towards Sherlock's bedroom. The detective rose to his feet curiously and strode cautiously to his bedroom, carefully pushing the door open. Molly was lounging lazily on his bed and Sherlock smirked to himself as he pushed the door shut behind him. Molly licked her lips softly and tried to suppress a giggle as she quoted another ridiculously cheesy pick-up line.
"Your lips look so lonely...would they like to meet mine?"
Sherlock's response had been something Molly had never expected; he strode over to her and placed a gentle, tender yet passionate kiss to her lips. Molly melted and responded with equal tenderness and care. After what seemed like forever, Molly pulled away, taking slow and steady breaths.
"Hmmm…thank God for our friend Doctor Watson, eh?"
"Yes. Thank God, indeed."
Sherlock's smirk was swallowed by Molly pulling him down to meet her lips again, slightly- ok, much hungrier this time. John smiled to himself; never had he been prouder of himself. Well, I've been Cupid…now, I think I deserve a drink. He gathered his coat and left the flat, hoping Mary was free for the evening.
John had been right after all…Sherlock Holmes had been foolish to think he would have been able to get Molly Hooper out of his system.
xx Thank you :) xx