A/N: Alright, so I can't promise that all the other updates will come this quickly, but I will try to be as expedient as possible. Anyway, I hope you all enjoy this chapter. And thank you so much for the reviews and follows and favorites. They are much appreciated. Oh, and before I forget, I do not own Sherlock...*sigh*
As previously mentioned, Molly Hooper did not see any evidence of Sherlock's new...affections for her. John Watson, (the consulting detective's flatmate, blogger, and best friend) however, did.
After the initial shock of Sherlock returning to his life, and consequently 221B Baker Street, John started to pick of on the slight differences.
The first sign was subtle. He had taken on more cases. At first, John thought absolutely nothing of this. Sherlock was back in the game.
Next, John noticed that Sherlock had even taken cases that were a four at the most. Again, he chalked this up to two years worth of boredom on Sherlock's boredom.
But then, John perceived a pattern emerging. He only took on cases involving death. Specifically, ones where he was required to visit the morgue. John was slightly suspicious, but still didn't think too much on it. He had lived with Molly Hooper for two years, and Sherlock Holmes was, even if he denied it, a creature of habit. Of course he was accustomed to her presence.
It wasn't until four months after Sherlock's return that John Watson raised an eyebrow. The detective turned down a high paying, high profile jewel robbery case, an eight at the least, in favor for a run of the mill hit and run, not even a two.
After that, John started paying closer attention. Then, he noticed all the things that Molly Hooper was missing. And it made the doctor speechless. Sherlock Holmes was in love. Whether he knew it or not, whether he would ever acknowledge it as that or not, he was head over heels about Molly Hooper, of all people.
John had never seen it coming. Truth be told, he never thought it possible. However, now that he saw it, he couldn't help but think it was...right. The way Sherlock watched her, it was...he couldn't describe it. It was as if she was precious to him. It was protective and caring and, well, almost a little sickening at times.
Then there were days when he could see the attraction Sherlock had to her, when he could see the lust in his eyes as Sherlock quickly dismissed himself from the lab, John trailing behind apologizing to Molly. (He realized that this happened, more often than not, on days when Molly had her hair down from her usual ponytail. John briefly wondered if Sherlock had a fetish for her hair, but then pushed that thought away deciding he did not want to know.)
He kept his mouth shut for two months, watching - no, observing, gathering enough evidence against his friend so that when he confronted him, there would be no way Sherlock could deny his feelings.
It was a Tuesday and they had just returned to 221B, from the morgue of course, when John put his plan into action.
"So, I've been thinking about Molly Hooper lately," John said nonchalantly as he hung up his coat.
There was a brief moment of silence before - "Do be more specific, John. You know how I hate mindless chattering."
But John had seen it in his peripheral vision. As Sherlock had walked over to his chair, he had frozen for a mere millisecond. Now there was an almost imperceptible smirk on his lips as he, no doubt, thought of the young pathologist as he sat down. To John, these signs were more than enough to prove his theory. However, he wanted to prove it to Sherlock as well, and that would take a bit more convincing.
"Well, I've been thinking about asking her out," John replied, leaning casually against the wall facing Sherlock as he crossed his arms across his chest.
The room went deadly silent. Sherlock froze again, but this time it wasn't for a millisecond. John could see that his jaw was clenched and he heard a faint sound that could have been his teeth grinding.
"On a date?"
The doctor could tell that Sherlock was doing his best to keep his voice normal and under control, but it was rather ruined when the question was hissed out between clenched teeth.
"Yes, Sherlock, on a date. Honestly, of all the times you've accused me of asking stupid questions, you sure-"
"You can't!"
John startled as the taller man jumped from his seat and began pacing furiously while he continued.
"You can't date her John, you simply cannot. We all know your track record with women-" John bristled defensively at this. "-and more often than not your relationships end badly. I will not allow you to do that to Molly. We work with her on a nearly daily basis and all of that would be ruined when you muck things up. Besides, she is far too good to become another one of your conquests. She deserves better than that, John. So leave my pathologist alone and find another o - John, why on earth are you laughing at a time like this? I hardly think this is amusi-"
His mouth shut quickly, and John could almost see the cogs turning in his head. He could see Sherlock remembering a very important detail that he had forgotten in his jealousy-fueled rage: the fact that John Watson had been happily dating Mary Morstan for nearly five months now. Contrary to the consulting detective's statement, John found this highly amusing, and he could not control his laughter.
John saw Sherlock's eyes light up in recognition, then anger, then, to his surprise, resignation. He had expected the anger. Suddenly, the consulting detective sighed deeply as he threw himself rather unceremoniously on the couch face first.
A deep rumble came from the cushions of the couch. John, finally calming to the occasional giggle, seated himself on the edge of the table beside his melodramatic friend. Honestly, lord help poor Molly Hooper.
"I'm sorry, what, Sherlock?"
"How long have you known?" he replied, turning his head just so John could see a sliver of his face underneath his dark curls.
"A few months now," John responded without thinking, then nearly choked on air. "Wait, does this mean you admit it?"
"Admit what, John?" Sherlock asked, turning his head a bit more as he tried to appear casual.
"Oh, don't be coy, Sherlock. Do you admit to having feelings for Molly Hooper?" John held his breath.
"Don't be stupid, John. Of course I don't have feelings for Molly Hooper." And John released said held breath. Well, he knew it wasn't going to be easy.
"I'm in love with her," Sherlock added before turning his head back into the cushions.
John actually choked on air this time.
"Really, John. Stop with your incessant coughing. Don't you think you're being a bit over-dramatic?"
After he could breathe again, the doctor stared at his best friend, who had now turned back over to return his gaze with a (too convincing) bored look about him.
"Did you actually just admit to being in love? You, Sherlock Holmes? The man who thinks sentiment is a weakness? The man who doesn't even believe in love, or so I thought?"
"Yes, John. Do keep up," his friend replied, rolling his eyes as he pulled out his phone to send a text message. John quickly snatched the device out of his hands. When Sherlock opened his mouth to protest, John cut him off.
"Oh no, Sherlock. You are not going to pretend that this is no big deal. You are being far too nonchalant about all of this and you know it. I know feelings make you uncomfortable, but if you actually have them, then be serious about it."
Sherlock sat up sharply and glared at him for all of two minutes, but John held firm, glaring right back into his ice blue eyes. Finally, Sherlock let out a groan.
"Fine," he grumbled as he flung himself back on the couch.
"Look who's being over-dramatic now," John mumbled. Sherlock's head turned roughly, his eyes hard and John put his hands up in defense.
"What do you want to know?" Sherlock asked, sounding like a petulant child being asked to reveal what he had done wrong.
"How?"
Sherlock immediately opened his mouth to respond, but John cut him off again.
"And don't ask me to specify. You know exactly what I mean."
It was silent for a long period of time. The clock ticking close by and the fire crackling behind them made the atmosphere seem even more tense for some reason. The minutes ticked by, and still, Sherlock had not spoken. John was beginning to wonder if the detective had dozed off. He was about to get up to make a cuppa when he heard the deep baritone of his friend's voice.
"It was actually rather annoying at first," he said with difficulty, as if this sentence revealed every deep secret he held.
John, putting on his most supportive face, urged him to continue. "Okay. Um, could you elaborate?"
Sherlock was quiet again, but only for a moment this time. "Well, I started observing things. Of course, I do that anyway, but I started seeing things I had not previously."
When he stopped speaking again, John realized this was going to be like pulling teeth. "Like?"
"Like her shampoo."
The doctor turned his head slightly. "Her shampoo?" he asked with a raised brow. He knew Sherlock had a thing for her hair.
"Yes, her shampoo. It smells of lavender, perfectly ordinary on its own, but when mixed with Molly's own natural scent, it's...fascinating."
John smirked a bit, and was about to urge his friend to keep going when he spoke again.
"Well, I think that's enough for now, don't you?"
"What? Sherlock, no! Tell me more!"
"John, please. Just...let me keep this."
John was highly confused for a moment. But then, it hit him. Sherlock shared his deductions with everyone. Everything he had ever discovered, he had to tell other people. But this one, this deduction was personal because it was about him. It was about Sherlock and Molly, and it was between the two of them.
"Okay."