A/N: I got so many reviews so quickly I just had to write another chapter. This one won't be 18 pages like the last one, but it may be a bit fun for us all. This chapter is called The Chase. And just for shits and giggles I should tell you I wrote the chase scenes of this chapter to the song Hoedown, written by Aaron Copland and performed by Dallas Brass. And it's for good reason too! I hope you enjoy this.
Chapter 2
The Chase
Molly's eyes slowly opened and she was greeted with a shock, Sherlock Holmes was sleeping right next to her. Her suddenly sharp mind recalled the night before and she knew she had to be gone before he woke up. Drunk Sherlock would gladly cuddle with her but sober Sherlock would probably scream and shout about the sanctity of his room and how she had defiled it due to the fact that she was not only a woman but Molly Hooper.
With great effort Molly shifted away from him and slowly eased off the bed. She looked around for the clothing items that she had not even realized had been removed from the previous night. She tried to clasp the back of her bra, which had one to many clasps undone to be comfortable. Then she found her jumper strewn across the foot of Sherlock's bed. Her socks were not that far from her shoes but she didn't even remember taking those off.
She tried to recall every single detail of the night before; no doubt Sherlock would remember every single thing. From her facial features to her many gasps and on to her horrible kissing ability.
Molly winced at the idea of Sherlock dissecting her sexuality, he already bullied her enough, but adding jibes of a sexual nature would be too much. She could only deal with so much shit from him before she would inevitably go home and start crying.
As Molly inched to the door she absentmindedly reached for her necklace and stopped dead when she realized it wasn't around her neck. Her head slowly turned to look at the bed with the rumpled blankets and she debated what she should do.
The necklace had been from her father, the last gift he had ever given her before he passed away. She could always come back later for it but that would mean she would have to face Sherlock, she would have to face what had happened.
Slowly approaching the bed Molly bit her bottom lip and let her eyes scan over the blankets and pillows. No sigh of any small glinting jewelry. She was pressing her luck but Molly very slowly reached out and started moving the sheets and covers around hoping her necklace would fall loose.
When she thought she might have seen a glimmer of shine from next to Sherlock's head she let her knees lean against the side of the bed and reached slowly towards his face. As her fingers gently started to pull on the thin silver chain she bared her teeth and held her breath.
She jerked back when icy blue eyes snapped open and Sherlock shot up and grabbed her by the hair yanking her to him and crushing her against his chest.
His hand was around her neck and was squeezing, "Who are you! Who sent you!" He hissed into her ear.
"Sh-sherlock! It's me! It's Molly!"
"Molly? Molly who?" Molly saw his head turn to look at her and his hands released her, "Molly?" In an instant Sherlock fell backwards off the bed with a loud thud pulling the sheets, blankets, pillows and a very shocked Molly with. Another thud sounded as she lay on top of the pile of fabric that covered Sherlock.
Molly scrambled as Sherlock erupted through the mess on top of him.
"What the devil!" The man said in frustration as he tried to yank the remaining sheet off his head, he lost his balance again and cursed as he finally ripped the sheet from his face.
Molly was already out the door of his bedroom as she tried to get her cloths into somewhat decent order. Her make-up was probably smeared and her hair was a mess and her clothes were rumpled and had no desire to sit on her frame properly.
I look like a crack whore! Molly thought as she made her way to the door.
Something caught her eye and Molly turned to see John sitting at the breakfast table with a paper and some eggs at hand. Molly just stared as ever the deer in the headlights she had no clue what to say. She knew how this looked; it looked like she had slept with Sherlock. Well technically she had slept with Sherlock but she hadn't slept with him.
Molly could tell John was about to comment when Sherlock's deep voice rang through the house, he sounded as if he was calling to a naughty child and Molly jumped and was racing to the door before anything else could be done to stop her. She felt the floor vibrate as Sherlock moved out of the bedroom after her but she was out the door and down the street before he could stop her.
OOOO
"PISS OFF!" Sherlock said as he went into his room and slammed his door. He started to pace frantically as he eyed his room critically. He could still smell her and he felt like he wanted to vomit. He grabbed up all his sleeping material and through it in the corner away from his bed, which he quickly stripped of any remaining sheets. Something hit the floor and Sherlock looked down to see a shiny silver necklace with a small blue pendent on it.
Molly's necklace, given as a sentimental present by her father, very old, often played with and clasped under stress. Worn during showering, never removed…. very important to Molly…
Before Sherlock had a moment to further deduce about the necklace he started to get dressed.
Molly had stopped him from having sex with her; she had put her own desires on hold…again…. So that Sherlock would be spared the bitter agony of losing control of his own body.
She had done everything for him all over again and Sherlock felt anger rise up inside him. Why did she have to be so perfect, so flawless! Why did she always make the right choice and never stray from the path of kind and gentle love. It was like Molly Hooper never questioned herself or her morals. It was like the woman knew everything about him and knew how to deal with all his pent up frustration and anger and…
You're a bit like my dad…. It echoed through Sherlock's mind.
When he was dying he was always cheerful he was lovely except when he thought no one could see… I saw him once he looked sad… you look sad…. When you think he can't see you…. What I am trying to say is if there is anything I can do… anything at all… you can have me…
Sherlock twisted on the spot and tried to focus so he could erase that memory but another came forward.
All lives end, all hearts are broken… carrying is not an advantage Sherlock.
Sherlock gritted his teeth at hearing his brother's words.
If I wasn't everything you think I am… everything I think I am… would you still want to help me?
What do you need?
Sherlock grabbed his scarf and pulled it to tight around his neck letting out a grunt as he did so.
You can have me…
Sherlock pocketed the necklace and bee lined to his bedroom door. He had to make this right, he didn't know how. He had admitted twice last night that sentiment, love and kindness were all beyond his abilities. But he had to try, for Molly's sake he had to try and fix this or he might lose her forever and that was not something he was willing to do.
OOOO
Molly was racing down the street faster then she ever had before. She had never even ran this fast to catch the bus when she was late for work. She dodged people and maneuvered about trying desperately not to hit anyone. If Sherlock was following her then the less traces she left the better. She turned down an alley and sprinted out onto the next street over. She took a deep breath as she slowed her pace and tried to focus on her lungs, which were throbbing, she hadn't suffered from asthma ever but she felt like her throat was closing off.
She didn't know why she was running like hell hounds was chasing her but she knew somehow that if Sherlock caught her she was going to be mortified.
Suddenly she heard something behind her, through the small amount of people she saw Sherlock race out of the alley. She gasped and started to back up, his icy blue eyes caught hers and he started towards her. He was actually chasing her! He was trying to get to her as he pushed people aside, the look in his eye said determined but it also said trouble. Molly turned then with out thought and took off faster then before.
She looked back once to see Sherlock after her and she knew this was not good. Sherlock would never willingly chase after her; he wouldn't go to all this trouble unless Molly had done something unforgivable. She turned down another alley and went up the fire escape as quickly as she could. She saw Sherlock had just jumped to reach the bottom rung that Molly had just barely been able to get.
Why did he have to be so tall!
Molly dashed through an open window, which led into a hallway and she sprinted down it and took a sharp turn into yet another hall.
"What?" She cursed as she realized she was in a bloody hotel. She looked for an elevator and realized that if she took an elevator she would be a sitting duck. She found the door to the stairs and rushed through down to the bottom floor. Once she pressed through the door she headed straight for the exit and out onto the street again. She knew Sherlock was close behind; he was not the type to give up. Molly noticed a taxi sitting nearby and went for it.
But as she reached for the handle she heard a loud noise behind her and looked to see Sherlock had just plowed through a bus boy whom had had his arms full of luggage. In that second she had hesitated a rather fat man had come in and taken her cab.
"Oh no sir! Please I need-"
"Piss off." He murmured as he shut the door and Molly kicked the door in aggravation. She turned to see Sherlock had helped the busboy up and was looking at her with an intensity she hadn't seen since last night. He must he absolutely furious.
"Molly…" he said as she started to back up.
"I wouldn't…. I will be right behind you… you can't get away from me. We need to talk." Sherlock said taking a step towards her.
Molly had been biting her lip but something in her realized that the tone in his voice was different then she had expected. He was challenging her and in all truth if this hadn't been about their awkward encounter last night she might let him catch her to talk. But her humility at last night and then being caught in his room this morning and how he had all but man handled her last night… there was to much humiliation, her heart had broken over him a long time ago and she couldn't stand to hear him lecture her about the stupidity of love or how dim she had been to assume he had really needed her comfort. She wasn't going to let him hurt her anymore, she was his friend, but she was not his bitch.
"If you really want to talk to me Sherlock, you will have to catch me and pry a conversation from my small little mouth!"
And once again she was off, she didn't turn back to see the look of surprise on his face or the small smirk that crept across his lips.
"The game is on then." He said pushing past the confused young man from earlier to resume his run.
Molly kept running through the crowd, she was not a coordinated person; she was not especially athletic either. She was giving this run her all because she wasn't going to let Sherlock have his way with her again. If he really wanted to talk to her about this and humiliate her he would have to catch her.
A man with a cart of fresh fruit had just pushed it out into the sidewalk and Molly knew this was a problem. People on either side, no way around and the street was filled with cars. It was the dumbest thing she could do but she turned and saw Sherlock only a few feet behind her. She took a deep breath and prayed she wouldn't break a leg. She jumped and when her foot connected with the side of the cart she shoved and sprang over it. When she landed she felt her ankle give a painful zing up her leg but she kept going.
At the end of the sidewalk Molly saw a woman standing next to the open door of a black car. She was motioning for Molly to hurry. Molly didn't recognize the woman or the car but at this moment she was so desperate to escape from all this that she sped up and raced towards the car. She heard Sherlock calling behind her, "Molly! DON'T GET IN THAT CAR!"
But Molly paid him no heed, when she was close she made a dive and felt someone slide in after her and slam the door shut. Molly looked out the rear of the car and saw Sherlock standing where the car had just been breathing heavily. His eyes were narrowed and to Molly's shock he took off down a side alley.
Molly turned around and leaned back against the seat, "Oh my God, thank you." Molly said through gasps for breaths.
"No problem." The woman said as she tapped away at her phone.
"Um… sorry… who are you?" Molly asked suddenly realizing that she had been so desperate to get away that she had jumped into a car with a stranger.
"I'm Anthea." Molly sat a moment and then felt her heart grow heavy, "Y-your Anthea?"
The woman just nodded with a small smile and continued to type on her phone.
"Mycroft wants to see me then?" Molly asked.
For the first time the woman looked at her in surprise and she silently asked how Molly knew.
"I listen to John and Sherlock in the lab sometimes, kind of hard not to when it's so quiet. They spoke about you and Mycroft… never thought I'd be here instead of John."
Anthea pursed her lips and with out a word and went back to furiously texting on her phone.
Molly leaned her head back and closed her eyes, she hoped to God Sherlock was not trying to tail the cab.
OOOO
When Molly had ran up the fire escape Sherlock had been surprised but nothing had shocked him more then her challenge to him and then the thing with the fruit cart… she had not wanted to be caught. She did not want Sherlock to get her.
His mind was confused as he ran through the back alleys and over the rooftops trying to get to his location as quickly as he could.
Perplexity was swirling in his brain as he tried to focus on his mental map of the city.
Molly had said he could have her, yet when he went to get her she ran from him. Was this some twisted game that women play? Was this what playing hard to get meant? Because this seemed a little bit above what most women that Sherlock had observed had ever done. Even Irene hadn't been this confusing and obstinate.
But part of Sherlock had been overjoyed when she had ran, a real challenge, and one that didn't involve killing people or trying to save his friends or some innocent civilian. He wasn't bored; he was intrigued because little Molly Hooper had brought to him a game, a simple one really, but a game nonetheless.
If Sherlock wanted to talk to Molly he had to catch her, and if he understood the rules of the game that meant once he caught her she was his…. Well she was already his… she had said so…. But then what was the point of this game?
Sherlock shook his head clear and tried to speed up his pace, he could get this all cleared up when he caught Molly.
The game is on!
OOOO
Molly was sitting in a rather plush chair in front of Mycroft when a servant brought in some tea. She gladly took it and sipped with a little more vigor then was necessary.
"Sorry." She said as a blush rose to her cheeks, "I'm a bit peaky. Just ran across town."
"Oh, I am well aware of what had just occurred. That is why I sent Anthea to your aid."
"To my… aid? You mean you didn't bring me here to cross examine me?" Molly asked with a little confusion in her voice.
"Naturally not. I am well aware of all the events that took place last night and I must say you handled everything rather well. Not many people can run from Sherlock and make a clean escape."
"I wouldn't have had you not sent the car. I was loosing steam once I jumped the cart."
"I noticed that… pretty desperate to get away from my brother Miss. Hooper."
"It's very complicated and while I do appreciate your help I am not sure I could share the details of Sherlock's private life."
"Of course. I wouldn't ask you to. What I ask from Dr. Watson is different then what I ask of you."
"And what exactly do you ask of me?" Molly said suddenly sitting straighter as she set her cuppa down on the table.
"Be gentle with him. He has stowed his heart because it has always been necessary to do so. But I know my brother and I do believe that someday… perhaps longer then you would be willing to wait, he will be able to be Sherlock Holmes the brilliant and Sherlock Holmes the loving. For the time you have given him he has learned much but I worry that in the months maybe even years to come he may start pressing into areas that you may not be willing to allow him to go. Feeling out the waters so to speak. I dare say, aside from our mother you are the only woman who has been so loyal and so understanding despite what he has said and done."
Molly digested this information and while she wasn't sure what Mycroft meant from the statement of Sherlock feeling out the waters or pressing into areas Molly may not want to go she was certain she knew one thing, she was the only woman in Sherlock's life that had stayed and had given him everything he had ever asked for. She was the only one who had put up with him, and not tried to take advantage.
"As I am sure you are aware of the situation that occurred some time back with a Miss. Irene Adler, you can only imagine the issues that arose from her quiet uneven displays of affection."
"I would hardly call them displays of affection, from what I understand she used him and seduced him into doing something that nearly destroyed the country."
"Someday I will be asking how you came to know all this…. But now is not the time…in ten seconds Sherlock will be at the door. You can either stand and face him… or there is a window right there."
Molly's eyes flickered to the window and then back at Mycroft, it only took her a second to know that the window was her best option.
"Ta ta Miss. Hooper and may I saw, you put on quite the show for Sherlock."
Molly made a face as she scooted out the window, "Good bye Mycroft." And then she was gone.
OOOO
Sherlock kicked the door to his brother's study open and stared at the man who sat like a triumphant king upon a throne.
"Where. Is. She." Sherlock hissed as he took in a couple gulps of breath.
"She is out the window and by this time near mummy's favorite gardens. If you hustle you can cut her off by the maze."
"Mycroft I swear…." Sherlock stopped and stared at him.
"That's it? What did you say to her? You're not going to try and make this ten times more difficult?"
"I said nothing she didn't already know, she is quite sharp for someone of lower intelligence. I adore her and mummy would have too."
"Mycroft I…" Sherlock had been about to slander him terribly when the man cut him off, "Twenty seconds before you lose her… I'd hurry brother dear."
Sherlock didn't hesitate; he sprang for the window and was out it in a flash sprinting down to the gardens leaving Mycroft with a rather smug smile on his face.
"Just like our father, always chasing after mummy."
OOOO
Molly could see the car waiting for her near the front of the drive. All she had to do was reach it and then she would be home free. The gravel under her feet crunched as she approached what looked to be a large hedge maze to her right. If she took a left and cut across the grounds she could beat Sherlock despite his unusual ability to run for hours on end.
But just as she was about to pass the opening to the maze Sherlock stepped out from behind a tree and Molly skidded to a halt. He stood there staring at her, his eyes still as intense as they had been earlier. A small smirk played across his lips, "I am honestly impressed Molly but I am getting very bored with this and I really need to talk to you. So if you would just sit down here with me and we can-"
Molly took off in the only direction she could.
Into the maze.
