"I can't believe you did that," Molly laughed as she and Sherlock walked down the hallway.
"Yes, well, she had it coming. Where did she get her teaching degree? I suspect it's drawn with crayon," Sherlock huffed.
"And now, you have to audition for the school's production of Beauty and the Beast as punishment," she pointed out.
"She said I had to audition, not that I had to succeed," he replied. "I can just give a bad performance."
"You probably won't have to; Jim gets to be leading man every year. I'm trying out for Belle. We could go together after school," Molly offered.
No, this won't do, Sherlock thought. I can't allow my Molly to kiss that sorry excuse for a man. His mind froze for a moment. MY Molly? Where did that come from? Disgusting sentiment.
"Sherlock, Mrs. Gardner tells me you've been rude in her classroom again," Mrs. Hudson scolded.
"Ah, Hudders, I didn't realize you were the theatre director," Sherlock stated.
"Well, dear, I look forward to your audition," she patted him on the arm in a motherly manner. He seated himself by Molly in the front row of seats when Jim settled on her other side.
"Holmes," Jim acknowledged.
"Moriarty," Sherlock sneered. Their rivalry went all the way back to grade school and each of them grew to have even more disdain for one another.
"Auditioning for Belle, I see," Jim gestured at Molly's notebook.
"Um, yes, I am," she replied, tucking her hair behind her ear.
"I hope you get it; wouldn't want to miss out on kissing you," he flirted. Molly blushed much to Sherlock's chagrin. He was the only one allowed to see the pretty flush of her cheeks. His chest tightened until it ached.
"James Moriarty," Mrs. Hudson called out.
"Well, that's my cue," he told Molly before making his way onto the stage.
"Molly, you know how he is," Sherlock warned. "He's not good enough for you."
"No, I don't, not really," she argued. "All I have to go on is your biased opinion. And who are you to decide who deserves me or not? I believe that choice is up to me."
"Molly, I—" he started.
"Margaret Hooper," Mrs. Hudson announced.
"Molly, please," she requested, swiftly walking away from Sherlock and making her way to the stage. Truth betold, she was hopelessly in love with her best friend, but he never saw her that way, nor would he ever. Mary believed otherwise but that was coming from someone who was happily in a relationship with Sherlock's best friend, John.
Sherlock watched her audition in awe and, though he wouldn't admit it, received chills as she sang the title song.
"Sherlock Holmes," Mrs. Hudson called out. He groaned inwardly. Sherlock didn't want to do this but it was to protect Molly from the likes of James Moriarty. She was his friend, and even if she didn't like his meddling, her anger would be worth keeping her safe.
"Good luck," she spoke almost inaudibly as they passed each other.
Molly was prepared for him to throw the audition. She knew he had such distaste for musicals. But then why did he deliver the lines so powerfully? Sherlock began to sing If I Can't Love Her, obviously knowing it by heart. His emotional performance made her tear up as she was seeing a side of her best friend that she never thought she'd see. Of course, Molly knew he wasn't the high functioning sociopath he claimed to be, but he never showed an ounce of emotion unless constant irritation counted.
"That was lovely, Sherlock, thank you," Mrs. Hudson smiled. Why hadn't he thrown the audition? Molly wondered. Perhaps it was his rivalry with Moriarty that changed his mind; some kind of typical testosterone fueled competition. Whatever his reason, Molly knew that Jim had been beat. Was there anything Sherlock Holmes didn't excel at?