I own not the characters in the tale, apart from all minor OC's, who are about to be obliterated verbally. ;)
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Sherlock stepped off the train just five hours later, and immediately came face to face with his smirking wife. He narrowed his eyes, before his lips matched her grin.
''Oh, don't give me that. You missed me and you know it! Get over here.'' Molly chuckled and pulled her husband by the lapels of his coat, until he was towering over her. She stood on tip toes and gave him a quick kiss. Turning toward the running car, she began talking.
''So, there'll be lots of people there. Lots of deductions to be made, I'm sure.'' She said with a grin. Sherlock looked pleased, and as he slid into the seat of the car, he turned, a curious expression on his features.
''Am I to be myself then? Or are there certain people that are off limits to my...usual observations?" He asked. Molly turned to see his blank expression. 'Oh, he honestly doesn't know.' She mused.
''Sherlock, I didn't have any friends in high school. Nobody is...off limits.'' She gave him a lopsided grin, before turning back to focus on the road ahead. Sherlock's grin widened at this news. 'They'll regret ever speaking an ill word against her, I'll ensure it.' His mind told itself.
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They soon arrived downstairs in the large conference room of the hotel, after putting Sherlock's small bag in Molly's room. His pristine suit cut a stunning look to the detective, and he quietly strode in next to his lovely wife. His eyes flicked all around, taking notice of tiny, insignificant details of the people they passed. Molly smiled proudly as she waltzed up to a slender, red haired woman, tapping her on the shoulder.
''Julia, this is my husband, Sherlock Holmes. Sherlock, this is Julia. She was my former lab partner in science.'' Molly smiled crookedly, as she saw his mind already taking the woman apart. Before he even uttered a greeting, he had already deduced that she was recently promoted in her job, now the manager of the bank she worked for. Her hair was dyed, naturally a brunette, and she used far too much we make up. 'Obviously hiding the wrinkling skin around the corners. Time has not been kind to her.' Sherlock gave a quick grin, before ushering out his hand to shake with hers. This 'Julie' did likewise, and he could tell infinitely more about her from her skin on her hands. 'Smooth, the oils of handling money have kept them from cracking. Not used to dealing with chemicals of other kinds, ah.' His mind made the discovery. 'Molly's lab partner, with unspoiled hands. She didn't assist in any way. A parasitic leech, sucking up the information that her kind classmate so willingly offered.' Sherlock's hand dropped to his side, and he looked up to the woman's face.
''Three months since your promotion, but you've clearly not bragged about it to other people, as they are not asking a multitude of questions. The means by which you got the job then, are probably ones of a sordid measure. Sleeping with the boss, Julie? What will his wife say?" He sat out a bit sarcastically, his tone quiet enough not to be overheard. Julie's list parted as she looked up at him, shocked. Before she could speak, however, he cut her off.
''A pleasure meeting you. Come along Molly, many of these...classmates of yours for me to meet.'' He smirked over to the brown haired woman at his side, who was clearly biting back an urge to smile and laugh. She nodded her head and watched onto him as he led them away. Julie stood still, her mouth still agape with horrified shock.
''Who's next?" He murmured into her hair by the shell of her ear. Molly chuckled a bit, before spying a very tall, very bald man. She nodded her head toward him, a gleam in her eye. The gleam of sought after revenge. Sherlock saw the look, and he knew exactly who this man was. He'd heard the story from her before.
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''He had asked me to the winter formal. And then, as soon as I show up to the dance, he acted like I was some sort of...freak. Said he'd never even talked to me and to leave him alone. I was humiliated...in front of people who already hated me.'' She said, her head resting on the flat of his abs. Sherlock had listened intently, swearing then and there that he would let no one humiliate her again, himself included.
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The man turned around, and plastered a fake smile on his face. He offered up a hand, to which Sherlock merely quirked a brow. He gazed over to Molly, who was smugly introducing the man to her husband. He looked up and the man's face fell at the mention of his name.
''THE Sherlock Holmes? Wow, that's just...you did well there, Mouse-face, I mean, Molly.'' Sherlock could see the sweat beading on his forehead, the stressed vein in his temple protruding just so. Sherlock knew the signs straight away. 'Increased adrenaline, causing perspiration in key stress locations, averted gaze and fidgeting fingers. Ah, a criminal.' He leaned in, to take a quick sniff of the man. He smelled not only of booze and strong perfume from the prostitute he had brought as his date, but also of an underlying scent of Meth. The man stared in scared confusion as Sherlock sniffed away like a bloodhound. He finally stood back, and a dark grin inched its way up his face.
''And how the mighty have fallen. Perhaps, if you would have paid more attention t your studies whilst in school, rather than making a mockery of my wife's kind hearted and trusting nature, you wouldn't be I association with prostitutes and drug dealers now. You know who I am, sir. You know what happens now. I'd say you have about a twenty percent chance of making it to the train station before the police arrive. You may as well stay here. Enjoy a drink.'' Sherlock's grin was now laced with a look of absolute disgust toward the man, who was now sighing in defeat, as Sherlock passed him a glass of wine. Molly simply shrugged happily as the former tormentor looked to her for help of any kind. She rubbed her fingers up and down Sherlock's arm, and he escorted her away. Molly leaned into him, snuggling her cheek into his upper arm.
''You're enjoying this, aren't you?" She asked with a smile. Sherlock chuckled lowly, and nodded his head, before leaning down to kiss her cheek again.
''Not nearly as much as you are.'' He retorted with a smirk. Molly blushed a bit at being found out, but played coy anyway. They sat and ate their meal, conversing with the others at their table, the detective making kinder, more trivial deductions about the people at the table.
Once the meal had ended, the staff had cleared out a majority of the tables, making way for people to mix and mingle with each other, as well as dance. Sherlock raised a brow, watching long lost friends talking around the room, former sweethearts dancing with each other in the center. He stood, and offered a hand to his wife.
''Shall we, m'lady?" He asked in a low voice. Molly giggled a bit, and stood, taking his hand. She knew it was a rare treat for him to be so openly affectionate in the eye of others, and she knew why he was doing it now. So, being the smart and clever woman she was, she soaked it for all its worth. He twirled her out on the floor, before bringing her close to him once more. They swayed back and forth, his fingers wrapped tightly around hers in one hand, the other looped around her waist, holding her close. He would mutter observations to her, telling her all about the misfortunes of her former schoolmates. Molly giggled into his chest as they danced, until she felt them stop. She perked her head up to see Sylvia standing next to them.
''Would it be terribly rude of me to ask your husband for a dance?" Her false smile was caked on her face, much like her make up. Molly looked up to her husband, who was looking right back at her. They shared an unspoken conversation, and he smirked as he saw the idea pass through her eyes. She separated herself from him, and nodded to the woman.
''By all means, he's a terrific dancer. And you've not had the pleasure of meeting yet.'' Molly said with an equally fake grin.
''Well, are you sure?" Came Sylvia's question. Molly's grin had a hint of devilishness to it, and she took another step back.
''Oh, I insist. Sherlock, I'll just be powdering my nose.'' She caught his eye again, before turning to leave. Sherlock knew there was something different about the one. Sure, they had all seemed to play a part in bullying his Molly as a teen, but this woman, this 'Sylvia', seemed to be the foremost tormenting force from his wife's past. He looked down to the woman who was now dancing with him. 'Three, no, four times undergoing plastic surgery. Regular Botox injections, and significant cosmetic restructuring of her nose. Two children, both boys judging by her leg muscles. Serial adulterer, husband is away often, most likely a businessman.' His observations were cut off by her voice speaking.
''So tell me, how does a girl like Mousy Molly snag a guy like you?" She asked, her hand rubbing along the muscle in his arm. Sherlock rolled his eyes at her obvious advances.
''Hm, let's see. For starters, she is significantly intelligent.'' He bit with a hint of disdain. Sylvia played right along.
''Oh yea. She always was such a little brainiac. All those hours after school spent in the chemistry lab. No doubt she was going on to do something involving science.'' She spoke with all the politeness of a genuinely kind person. However, Sherlock was piecing together her association with his pathologist.
''Tell me, Sylvia. How did Molly acquire her nickname?" He narrowed his eyes at her, and she smiled back up at him.
''Hm, well...I guess it must have been our second year. Molly's always been so quiet...you know, mousy. Well, it was one of the Griffin boys' idea to put one of the lab mice in her jumper. You would have expected her to shriek or do something outrageous. But no, we barely got a rise out of her. She simply...squeaked. Like a mouse, and the name stuck.'' Sylvia giggled lightly as she recalled the memory, to which Sherlock frowned. He had heard Molly's take on the story before, he knew who this Sylvia was now. He smirked a bit.
''Funny thing, nicknames. They can often shape who we are, or what we become. Although I suppose some nicknames are given because of who we choose to be. Wouldn't you agree, Silky Sylvia?" He glared at her now, and her eyes went wide.
''Wh..where did you hear that name?" She stuttered, her face going pale. Sherlock spun them around, and leaned in closely.
''Oh, a little 'mouse' told me all about you. Most popular girl in school, if only for your willingness to sleep with everyone and anyone who wanted you. Couldn't get anyone to truly enjoy your company, so you hiked up your skirt a bit more to draw their attentions. Tell me, how proud do you feel of yourself, not knowing entirely who the father of your children is?" By this time, they had stopped moving, Sherlock simply standing there, shooting off his deductions to the petrified woman. Her eyes were brimmed with tears, and she simply whispered her words.
''You're a monster.''
''Yes, yes. I'm a terrible man for pointing out the obvious. I'm cruel, harsh, insensitive, and absolutely right. I don't take much joy in trivial matters like most men do. You asked me how Molly managed to snag my affections. She's brilliant, genuinely kind, and has enough respect for herself to keep her body unaltered, unlike some. She certainly takes my flaws in stride, and even delights in a few of them. And that, you stupid woman, is how my wife 'snagged' me.'' Sherlock stood and watched as the woman bolted for the door. He walked to where his coat was, and picked it up, before heading toward the hotel room.
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Molly was just stepping out of the bathroom, when she ran into a teary eyed Sylvia Duncan. The woman gave her a cold look through blurred vision.
''You should know, Mouse-face, that your husband is a terrible man.'' Sylvia pushed past her, leaving Molly to grin like a Cheshire cat. As she reached the end of the all she saw him standing there, waiting for her. She whispered the retort to herself as she walked toward him and his mischievously grinning face.
''No, my husband is a wonderful man.''
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Well, I hope you all liked that little double shot! Lol. I love writing Sherlock deductions, because it gives my mind a chance to stretch and use logic and imagination. Hopefully you like reading them. Let me know! Thanks for all the support from those who have read, favorites, followed, and reviewed. It really means a lot to me. I don't say it nearly enough, but I love you all!