Hey so just wanted to clear up my mistake in the last chapter. That being Anthea, I had her as Athena. Opps! Not to worry from now on it will be fixed and she will be Anthea. A big thanks to angelica8051 for pointing it out! Also I would like to thank you all for reading and hope you enjoy this chapter as well.
More notes at the end.
Molly Hooper stood in front of her bathroom mirror. Biting her lip. This was a big job, massive actually. Five thousand pounds to pretend to be some bloke's girlfriend?! The man must be mad. She almost waited for a phone call saying it was all a huge prank. Meena wasn't going to believe this. She's going to throw a bloody fit. Meena's never made that much cash and she's been escorting for bloody six years. She was the one who got Molly into it. After her father died, she was left with the funeral expenses on top of her school loans. She was struggling to make ends meet. Even when she got hired on at Bart's, she still didn't make enough money to cover her debt. So Molly asked Meena about escorting and thought at first it was all a bit dodgy. Men paying for a woman to have dinner, chat and then go? She understood men's desires when it came to paying for prostitutes, they got a good shag out of it. Somehow she never will grasp the reason why they would want to buy companion ship. Most of the men she escorted were high on the social ladder, and good looking. Which is why it puzzles her.
Molly shook the thoughts from her mind and started brushing her hair out. She had to treat this like any other job. She couldn't help, but go back to when Meena told her the three rules.
"Three rules?" Molly asked eyes wide. Meena was lying on the couch on her stomach, smoking a cigarette and reading Cosmo. Taking a long drag, before peering down at Molly. Who sat up against the couch on the floor.
"Yeah, everything's gotta have rules Molls, even escorting. They're simple." She flipped a page and continued on reading.
Molly dug out her curling iron and plugged it in. Once it was ready, she wound a parting f her long brown hair around it. Waiting for it to curl.
"Tell me." Molly asked. She not only surprised Meena, but herself as well. Why would she even want to know? It's not like she's going to be escorting.
Meena's eyebrows rose. "You really wanna know?"
She thought for a second. She could say no, never mind. Or take a leap and find out. She ran her thumb along her bottom lip, before looking up at her friend. "Yeah, I do."
Meena smirked. "Okay then."
Molly took one last look at her hair. She only curled it to an extent. Messy curls, guys loved that. Taking out her make-up bag she found what she was looking for. Cherry red lipstick. Leaning over the sink she poised the tube to her lips.
Meena was giddy. She quickly butted her cigarette out and placed the magazine on the coffee table. She patted the spot beside her. Molly obeyed. Meena wrapped her arms around her, before spilling the trade secrets. "First rule, never be yourself. Always have a cover personality, because at the end of the day it's a job and your being paid to be … interesting."
Molly smacked her lips, which were now bright red. Curling her lashes, before painting them with mascara. Giving her lashes the desired effect. Finding her hoop ear rings, she placed them on the counter. Taking her diamond studs out and carefully placing them in a special spot in the cabinet. They were the last gift she received from her father before he passed away. The weight of the hoops, were something to get used to, but she'll manage. She always does.
"So you have to have like a fake identity.?" Molly questioned.
"Sort of. You can use your real name. How else are they to find you? Just makes things easier. I find it best to be fake with them. You only have to spend a couple of hours in their presence. Besides showing who you really are can get tricky."
She scrunched her nose. "Tricky?"
"Yeah, you know when you meet someone and chat? Well it's like that. You might hit it off, which is what you don't want to happen. It's only a job, nothing more. So use a fake personality."
Opening her closet, she immediately found the dress she was looking for. Slinky black cocktail dress, with silver trim at the top. Taking a breath, she grabbed it.
"Second rule, don't get attached. Your definitely going to get return customers, trust me. Fortunately it's good for your pocket, unfortunately you get to know him. Bringing us back to the initial problem, with why we have to change our personality in the first place. Just remember, it's not really you, it's the persona you give that he likes. He would act totally different around you, the real you that is and you may not like him."
Taking a step back and examining herself in the long mirror she had in her bedroom. She smoothed the dress out to her liking. Slipping her feet into a pair of black suede heels. Looking back at her reflection, she itched to bite her bottom lip. The only thing stopping her is not wanting to smudge her lipstick.
"The third and most important rule, is no kissing. Under no circumstances do you kiss the client. This rule protects not only your lips from unwanted kisses, but from a broken heart. All the rules kind of combine to be a barrier. Not allowing anything to get to us. Therefore we will not feel the need to kiss, but if you do" Meena looked right at her, pointing her finger. "Remember your breaking the sacred rule of escorting."
Molly couldn't help but burst out laughing. Meena's seriousness washed away as she joined her. The girls leaning on each other, holding their stomachs, waiting to calm down.
"Those seem like simple enough rules." Molly finally said. Meena sat up and looked down at her.
"Simple can be complicated." Molly had no idea what she meant. The rules were simple and simple can't be complicated. "Why do you wanna know anyway?"
"Umm.." She wasn't sure how to admit to her best friend how her life is a financial mess. Molly searched everywhere to find a second job, but in this economy there was no such luck. She was at her wits end, she had to find something to keep her afloat. Escorting seemed like her only life jacket right now. "You know how when dad died I got put with the funeral bills and my school debt?" Meena nodded. "Well it's all too much. I can't take it with one job. Even if the pay is fantastic. I need something, anything" She could feel the tears trek down her cheeks, before she could stop them.
"It's going to be alright Molly. I promise. Nothing bad will happen to you." Meena whispered. Pulling Molly in for a hug. Stroking her head and letting her cry.
Molly sat on the stairs of her building, waiting for the car that was suppose to pick her up. She nervously fiddled with the bangles at her wrists. She had to make a good first impression. This man's brother paid a lot of money for her, so she was going to make it worth his while. Molly liked to consider herself a chameleon of sorts. She didn't just change her personality when around a client, oh no she changed her personality to fit the man's. It was all about what they wanted in a social partner. This was the first time she ever faked being a girlfriend though. She wasn't really sure how it would go or should? She wished Meena would have answered her phone, she really needed advice. Although how could she help? It's not like she agreed to two weeks of being a pretend girlfriend to a man. She only ever went out with one for a couple of hours. Thankfully a sleek long black car rolled up and a man in uniform, bowed.
"Miss. Hooper?"
"Uh, yes." He ran up and retrieved her bag. She went to open the car door, but he beat her to it. "Thanks" She quickly got in and found herself in awe. The inside was nice. There was a mini bar, two screens, and a mini-mini fridge. The only thing she could think of was-
"Who are these people?" She whispered out loud, covering her mouth instantly. She was careful not to mess up her lipstick. Slowly placing her hand back in her lap, she watched the buildings go by as she sped off to her mystery destination.
Sherlock sat at his chair, putting a kink in his neck from constantly gazing at the clock. Thanks to his brother he had to entertain a woman for two weeks, how on earth was he to do that. He can't compromise his cases. She will have to just understand that they are more important to him than this silly little 'fake relationship' thing.
It was boring waiting. Time went by so slowly, each tick of the clock, making him cringe. He felt he was slowly dying. He was so bored that when Mrs. Hudson came up to check on him, he asked her to bring tea. She of course went straight down to make it. Unfortunately she hasn't returned since.
Sherlock feared that blasted Downton Abbey was on. That would mean Mrs. Hudson wouldn't come back with his drink until it was over. Sighing he got up and found two glasses. He filled them with water and set them on his desk. He gazed intently on them. So enthralled with the glasses of water he didn't hear the car pull up or Mrs. Hudson answering the door.
He slowly lifted one glass off the desk, holding it in front of him. He cranked his arm back and let it fly. Watching it smash into a thousand pieces, while the water ran down the wall. Doing the same with the second glass. But this time the door to his flat burst opened, with a shriek. Sherlock smiled, ah there she is.
"Mrs. Hudson, I was beginning to wonder where you had gotten off to with my..." He trailed off as he saw a woman behind his land lady. She was stunning. Her hair curled into messy curls, a figure hugging dress, make-up, jewelery. She was trying to make an impression. "... tea."
"Sherlock what have I told you about my bloody walls!" She was in a frantic state, waving her arms around at him and the mess he made.
"Mrs. Hudson! Tea!" He yelled.
"When I'm at that wedding next week I am having a word with your mother." She called back as she was descending the stairs.
The woman shuffled in, her mouth agape. "I'm-"
"Molly Hooper, yes I know. Your the woman my brother hired to be my pretend girlfriend for his wedding." He fired rapidly.
She gave a nervous titter. "Yeah, that." She heaved her duffel bag inside, letting it land with a thud on the floor. Judging by the looks of her, she has loads of products to plaster on herself in there. "So who are you?" She asked more confidently, he noticed. She strutted inside more, letting her hips sway. Sherlock couldn't help but let his eyes wander to her behind. Only noticing he didn't answer when she stopped swaying.
"Hmmm?"
"Your name, you didn't say?" She gave a sly grin at him. Oh, she knew exactly why he didn't reply right away.
"Sherlock Holmes." It was weird and a bit concerning that he actually had to introduce himself. People usually knew who he was. "Sherlock Holmes famous consulting detective?"
"Sorry don't get out much." She found John's old chair, and sunk into it, before bringing her legs up and over the arm. She shucked her shoes off, letting them hit the floor. "You must be really good if they consult with you."
"I am." Sherlock took a seat in his chair opposite her. "I can see what ordinary people can't"
"How's that?"
"I deduce." He saw her eyes widen. Her body leaned forward awkwardly with her legs still perched on the arm. She was interested, very interested. This of course intrigued Sherlock. Most women who hear this just chatter on about something else, they don't care how he does it. But she does. Interesting. "I observe people and places."
"You can solve things by looking at them?"
"Yes." Sherlock saw the gleam in her eyes. She wanted to know more. She gave a half smile, then took her legs down so she could sit up.
"Could … could you deduce me?" She asked nervously.
"I could, if you want me too." He leaned forward.
"Okay"
"You have a day job, one not of the escorting kind."
"How-"
"Your skin is pale for this time of year. Which suggests you don't normally wear what you have on, you prefer long clothing. The paleness of your face also suggests you don't get out much during the day time hours, your complexion shows a hint of tanning, but not enough for you to frequent the outdoors in daylight. Meaning you have a day job. Working somewhere in doors until late afternoon. From work you go straight home not leaving your flat until you have to, leaving no time for your face to naturally tan since it rarely sees the sun. You work somewhere that ensures cleanliness. In fact your so used to it you couldn't help but to sanitize your hand before coming up, I bet your itching to head to the bathroom to wash them. Your smart, clearly so-"
"There's no way you could know of my intelligence"
"Mmm, yes. When I said consulting, you knew what it meant. Most people ask. Even John asked" Sherlock pondered his statement a moment. Maybe intellect has nothing to do with knowing what his job entitled. He may have to reevaluate.
"Who's-"
"So not just any job then. Something that would require skill and precision. My guess is your a pathologist. Your steady steady hand is a dead give away."
Molly's eyes went wide. "How could you get that from those little bits?"
Sherlock threw a smug look in her direction. "Your bag has your clothing in it. Your regular clothing. You change at work, but formaldehyde is very … strong and can leave traces if one is constantly around it. I could smell it as soon as you carted it in."
"Impossible! Unless you have super human smelling. I use the strongest detergent out there to get rid of the stench."
"No, I just trained my senses to observe." Sherlock leaned back feeling satisfied. He always does when he can show people what he can do. He almost went to reach for his coat collar, but slowly covered when he realized he wasn't wearing it, by rubbing his neck. Molly kept staring at him, her eyes narrowed trying to figure him out. Mrs. Hudson breaking her concentration.
"Brought the tea dear." She set it down on the table beside Molly. Sherlock jumped up ready to make his cup, when his phone went off. He frowned and answered, walking to the window for privacy.
Molly was unsure of this Sherlock bloke. He was very … eccentric in his ways. But at the same time, she loved that about him. He didn't care what others thought … okay he did. She could easily tell he's a complete and utter show off. He was itching for her to ask him to deduce her. Which is why she did. After all her job as his escort and fake girlfriend was to make him happy. She didn't like that he knew her day job though, that was part of who she really was. Which kind of interfered with rule number one of escorting. No use wishing to go back now, what's done is done.
She did fancy him a tad. He was beyond good looking. He had beautiful curls, gorgeous eyes, cheeks bones that could kill. He was rather fit, oh he was fit. Those buttons straining to break free-
She had stop thinking like this! He was a client, nothing more. Molly found herself staring at his backside as he stared out the window on his mobile. She was so fixated on him she hadn't noticed the land lady taking a seat in the chair across from her. "Hmm?" Molly blinked her gaze towards the woman.
"Don't worry about Sherlock, he's fine. A bit maddening sometimes, but he's a good one." She beamed like a proud mother.
"Oh, I wasn't worried." Molly chuckled to reassure the lady. She turned her attention to the tea set and made herself a cup. "Thank-you for the tea."
"Your welcome, but I'm not your house keeper dear." Mrs. Hudson smiled. "Sherlock told me he was having a woman move in."
Molly smiled, taking a sip of tea. Trying to ignore the nosy statement. No way was she going to say a thing, until her and Sherlock agreed on what to say exactly to people. Sherlock bolted from his spot and ran to his coat rack and put it on. A coat in summer?
"Case! An 8!" Was all he said before running out the door.
Molly just stared at where he once was.
"Oh, he's off on a case again." The older woman said putting a hand on her cheek. Standing up she walked to the door, only turned back to her when the door was open. "He'll be back, when he's finished." Mrs. Hudson explained before leaving her all alone.
What. Just. happened? She felt like she was in some weird dream. Sitting still for a good five minutes before exploring the place. Going to his desk, she was tempted to rifle through the stack of papers that littered the top, wanting to know more about him. But stopped herself. This was his work and it didn't belong to her. It would be wrong to go through them... but having a wandering eye wasn't wrong. After all she can't help what is clearly visible. Scanning the mess she picked out a couple of newspaper articles about "The Famous Detective". Molly guessed that was him. She really couldn't find anything else, since most of the papers overlapped each other.
She flitted to the kitchen, where she saw the table full of science equipment. She ran her hands along the smooth surface of the counter top as she explored. Feeling a bit hungry and thinking that he wouldn't mind if she borrowed some food just for tonight. Molly made her way to the fridge. Jerking back a bit from the sight of a severed head, right smack dab in the center. She giggled. Who has heads in their refrigerator? Apparently Sherlock Holmes. Hopefully he has some food as well. Peering in she could see more body parts stored here and there. Unfortunately the only thing he had that was edible was a head of rotten lettuce. Sighing she let the door slam shut. This was going to be a long night without food. She decided to go up to her room and unpack then she could take a nice long soak in the tub.
A few hours later Molly was relaxing in a nice hot bubble bath. She brought her phone with her so she could try to call Meena. Who thankfully answered this time.
"Meena your never going to believe this job I'm on."
"Sweetie I've done just about anything, it's going to take Santa Claus himself to shock me."
"Santa Claus eh? Well what about I just got paid five thousand pounds to be some blokes girlfriend!" Molly squealed into the phone.
"No seriously" Meena laughed. "what's the unbelievable job?"
"That is it."
"Five thousand pounds? You want me to believe some bloke just paid five thousand pounds to spend the night with you?"
"No two weeks."
"Five thousand pounds?"
"Yes I think we've established that." She chuckled.
"My god Molly, your rich!"
"Well-"
"Who is this mister money bags?"
"Umm, it's that detective guy from the papers."
"Detective guy? … I don't..." Meena trailed off in thought.
"Sherlock Holmes?"
"Meh, still have no clue. Wait! I know I'll look him up." Molly heard the taps of the keys as Meena typed. Then a very loud squeal, that made her cringe. "He's flipping hot! With a capital H."
"I know"
"Really, really hot."
"I'm aware."
"Oh god are his buttons straining?"
Molly closed her eyes. "M hm."
"I just want to rip that shirt off of him and save those poor screaming buttons from their misery. Then-"
"Meena! Remember we talked about this? I've had enough insight in your fantasies and quite frankly I wish I hadn't."
"But you do see how incredibly good looking he is, don't you?"
"Of course. But it's just a job. Not like I haven't escorted good looking men before."
Meena snorted. "Not that good looking"
Ignoring her. "Besides he's a bit odd."
"Odd how? Like a weird kink or something"
"No! He's just a bit … enthusiastic in his … demeanor." Was that even a good way to describe him? Molly sunk down a little leaving her chin under the bubbles. She had to convince Meena that working with him was not going to be a problem. Or else she would get a very determined girlfriend dragging her away from a very good paying job. She was not going to let the money slip from her fingers now. No matter how intriguing and devastatingly handsome Sherlock was.
Trying to quickly come up with a follow up explanation, she remembered the body parts in the fridge. This didn't bother her, she was a pathologist after all. Seeing cadavers are a daily thing, so no shock factor there. It was a bit odd that he chose the place where food goes, but she can over look that. He seemed like an all around good bloke. "He has body parts in his refrigerator."
Meena didn't say anything, so Molly tried her hand at making it seem normal."It's no big deal really-"
"He's a freaking pyscho! Molly get out! If you don't I am dragging my tired butt to where ever this guy lives and taking you with me. No wonder he has to pay someone to be his girlfriend. Probably chops them to bits and pieces... Oh god ,please don't let him do that to you. He will probably send me little bits of you in the mail."
Molly rolled her eyes. "I think you've seen way too many horror films. He's not going to do any of that. I'm pretty sure it's for experiments."
"Your treating this like it's not a big deal. You said he had body parts. Body parts!"
"It's fine. Now I think we should talk later before you have a heart attack." Molly laughed.
"No! Wait-"
Molly hung up. She knew that Meena's reaction was very natural. When you hear a guy has body parts just in his home it should heed a warning. For some reason though it didn't bother her, maybe it was because she was used to it? What ever the reason it made Sherlock Holmes all the more intriguing and Molly couldn't wait to discover more about 'The Famous Detective'.
I am a bit weary of my deducing skills considering this is one of my first attempts, so sorry if it wasn't that good! I tried. I just really wanted him to be his self and show off XD Next chapter will be more of a connection to pretty woman ;) Not to worry. I just had to give them time to get somewhat acquainted, although Molly doesn't know all of Sherlock yet.. she will. Same goes for Sherlock, he has a lot more to learn about Miss. Hooper ;) Again thank you for reading and comments are always welcomed! Until next time.
