Sorry Guys it took me so long to get this up! School started and my BFF introduced me to Damon from Vampire Diaries so I had to do a total marathon of them for awhile. Anyway thanks for the patience and I hope you enjoy! BTW the artist I mention was completely made up so if there is a real one by the same name I apologize.
Molly and Sherlock fell in line with the other guests as they neared the front of the door where a young women with shocking red hair in a beautiful emerald dress took invitations. Molly tried to be discreet as she gazed around the yard but she had a feeling she was unsuccessful.
The gardens were ablaze with roses and lights giving off a majestic feel; there were two fountains on either side shooting different colors of water into the night. It was something she would have imagined as a little girl playing princess and the dragon or a scene out of a book, "It looks like a fairy garden," She whispered to Sherlock a little gleefully. He rolled his eyes but Molly noticed his lips twitch as though he was suppressing a smile.
Sherlock turned brushing his lips against her cheek as he angled his body in front of hers, to an outsider it would look a normal lover's caress, "give me your hand," He whispered low.
Molly shot him a slightly quizzical look but put her hands into his trying not to be startled when she felt something cold slip over her finger. He smoothly stepped away greeting the hostess with a charming smile as he handed her their invitations.
Molly gazed down swallowing hard as she noticed the diamond resting on her left hand. It was a beautiful princess cut set in a very simple band and rested perfectly on her finger. It was exactly the type of ring Molly would have picked out for herself which almost made it worse. If it had been some opulent ring that was slightly too large for her finger it would have been easier to keep reminding herself this was all pretend.
"Emily?" Sherlock called out extending his hand, "Are you ready?" Molly noticing a wedding band on him smiled inwardly telling herself this would be the closest she would ever come to being married to Sherlock, she might as well enjoy it while it lasted. "Of course," She replied taking his hand as they went inside.
As soon as they entered into the foray Molly had to stop herself from openly gaping, "My entire flat could fit into this room," She muttered under her breath.
Sherlock smirked but didn't comment, placing his hand low on her back as he guided her on. Molly prayed he didn't notice how her heart leaped at his touch. As they walked into the main parlor with the other guests, she couldn't stop herself from taking all of it in.
The house was beautifully decorated with art and artifacts from all over the world. Waiters held trays overfilled with hors d'oeuvres and Molly was mortified to realize she didn't recognize any of it. She could see the caviar but she had no clue about anything else. She shot Sherlock a slightly panicked look as the waiter stopped, "Angels on Horseback, Madame?"
"Thank you," Sherlock said calmly grabbing two, "It is just bacon wrapped around an oyster," he whispered handing her one.
"Oh," Molly mumbled feeling foolish but she straightened her spine refusing to be intimidated, "What do you think of the house?" Molly inquired.
Sherlock understood it was her way of asking what he had deducted from his surroundings, he had been taking everything in since he had arrived. The house was decorated with glass… Glass chandeliers which were ablaze with lights, glass casings holding antiques, even the art was all modern and impersonal. Basically the entire place was shown to be very cold.
Greene had done this on purpose, being very careful about his surroundings. He had been trained well Sherlock reflected ruefully. While the place reeked of opulence and someone who cared a great deal about his trinkets Sherlock knew better. He didn't care about any of it, Greene had chosen all of this because it was unreadable.
"A cover," He murmured in her ear, "A very expensive mask."
Molly turned her head into him so they simply looked like a couple whispering intimacies, "It seems as though he is trying very hard at appearing rich. I have a feeling he was originally poor and is still trying to convince himself he is not the same little boy anymore."
Sherlock nodded thoughtfully wondering what she had seen that made her think of him in such a way. From everything he had been able to gather on Greene there had been no indication of him once being down in the gutter, "Come on," He muttered, "We need to mingle."
She nodded but secretly wondered how this was going to work. Sherlock Holmes was well known within London society. He had been in the headlines for weeks after his death and resurrection, surely he would be recognized.
Molly raised her eyebrow silently asking him. Sherlock shot her a genuine grin, "I am amazing actor" He said confidently. "I could convince Mycroft I was Benjamin Christie if I wanted too."
She laughed, "Show off."
Sherlock leaned low his lips brushing the shell of her ear causing her to shiver, "No, it's not showing off when you're just that good." He paused wickedly, "at everything."
Molly could feel her face flame with heat as she took in his words. She didn't reply but quickly plucked a glass of champagne off a waiter taking a deep gulp, she was going to need all the help she could get tonight.
She felt Sherlock chuckle against her back as he took the glass out her hand, "Careful dear," he stated, "the night has just started." He winked at her taking his own sip before turning towards the couple next to them. "Ah, Michael, Jo-Anne." He said happily, "How nice to see you again."
You could tell Sherlock had taken them by surprised but they recovered quickly, "oh yes- nice to see you too Mr.…" The man Michael trailed off helplessly looking at his wife, "Christie" Sherlock answered extending his hand, "Benjamin Christie. We met last year at the Starlight ball."
"Oh yes, of course." Michael said confidently although one could tell he had no recognition of the event, "forgive me, I have always been terrible at names."
Sherlock nodded, "I understand. You remember my lovely wife Emily," he asked beckoning Molly forward. She smiled easily trying to ignore the repulsion she felt at the appreciation in the old man's eyes. He was overweight and she could see the beads of sweat glistening on his forehead, his roving gaze never leaving her chest while his wife Jo-Anne glared subtly her own ample form straining against her too tight dress.
"Emily, you remember Mr. and Mrs. Michael Carrington," Sherlock said.
"Yes, of course," Molly replied extending her hand, "It is a pleasure to see you again."
Michael took her hand kissing the back of it, "The pleasure is mine," He smiled creepily, "I seem to remember us dancing last year at the Starlight gala Mrs. Christie, I do hope you will give me the pleasure of doing so again."
Molly opened her mouth but before she could reply, Sherlock slipped his arm around her waist, "Forgive me, Michael but the last time I sent her off with you I wasn't sure I would get her back. She was quite smitten with your dancing skills." He told him, his charm working on the older man who flushed happily, "We shall see, my boy. I may just whisk her away before you notice she's gone."
They chuckled while Molly tried not to show how disgusted she was at the idea of dancing with creep, "I will be on my toes," Sherlock replied as they walked on, "Good job," He told her appreciatively, "You handled them well."
She felt her inside grow warm at the compliment knowing Sherlock did not say anything he did not mean, "So is that the trick?" Molly asked, "Just pretend you know them and force them to play along."
He nodded, "I investigated almost all the guests who would be here tonight, gathering names and faces. As long as you call them by name and act like they should recognize you they have no choice but to go along. Most of the people will be too scared to argue."
Molly shook her head, "Where does one where learn tricks like that?" She asked, "Do they teach those things at Uni and no-one told me?"
Sherlock rolled her eyes at her teasing but did not comment.
He knew Molly was completely out her comfort zone but he was actually quite proud of how well she was doing. He had been worried she would blow their cover by jumping or squealing the first time he touched her but so far she had not outwardly reacted to him. Although Sherlock knew she was affected by the way her heart would jump; which gave him a weird primal satisfaction he always thought was beneath him.
He glanced over at her from the corner of his eye, the low- cut of her dress caused her normally hidden bosom to stretch with each breath, almost teasing with image of spilling over plus every-time she moved he could see her leg through the slit causing him to lose focus on what he should be doing.
Sherlock inwardly cursed wishing he had not told Molly to dress differently than usual. Seeing her in oversized jumpers and dresses that did not suit her made it easier to keep himself distant but this red dress was bringing everything to the forefront. Plus, he had to keep resisting shielding her from every man's hungry gaze.
When Michael Carrington had locked his lecherous eyes on Molly he had to stop himself from growling at the old bastard. When he had asked Molly to dance Sherlock knew Molly would have agreed to do so just to be polite and while it would have given him the perfect opportunity to sneak away, the idea of Carrington touching her made Sherlock stiffen. He never did like to share.
He immediately reminded himself why he was here and he was once more grateful he could detach from his emotions so easily. It would do no good to allow himself to be distracted. Sherlock needed to focus his attention on Greene so he could finally end everything which had been plaguing him for the last two years.
Sherlock needed Molly for this reason and after tonight she would go back to St. Barts where she belonged. Then he could focus on getting back to his cases and their relationship would return to simply being colleagues where it would stay.
"Sherlock," Molly whispered urgently causing him to switch his attention down on her, "Are you ok?"
"Of course," He replied sharply, "and call me Benjamin. I don't want to risk someone overhearing you."
She nodded, "Sorry." She glanced around, smiling and greeting a few people as they went by, "Have you seen him yet?" Molly asked quietly.
Sherlock shook his head, "You stay here, pretend to interested in some of the art pieces. I am going to go see if I can find him."
Molly nodded watching him stroll away, she let out a deep breath grateful for a moment to gather her bearings. The evening had been filled with a tension she could not identify. The way Sherlock and she had moved together naturally, her body reacting to his instinctively, and the sense of belonging every-time he slipped his arm around her waist. Molly had known this night would difficult emotionally but she had not anticipated such a physical intensity as well.
She played with the ring on her finger as she gazed at statue of a water ballerina in a casing by the window, "beautiful isn't it?" a deep voice spoke behind Molly startling her. She glanced over seeing a handsome man about her age smiling at her.
He was dressed sharply but his green eyes seemed to shine with a hidden laugh relaxing Molly, she nodded with a smile, "very."
He stepped forward gesturing to the case, "Do you like McHale?"
Molly blushed, "I am afraid my experience in art is very limited. Is he the sculptor?"
The man smiled, "Yes but don't feel bad. He is rather new to the art scene and really only known locally. This piece was done a few years ago but if his work keeps up to this level he will be known worldwide soon."
"I hope so. She is lovely," Molly replied gesturing to the ballerina.
"Yes, she is." He said with appreciative look causing Molly to blush, she took in his strong build and chocolate brown hair which was tousled giving him a boyish like quality. He was by most standards a very good looking man and she was disappointed to realize she felt no reaction to him at all. Molly suddenly felt depressed with the knowledge Sherlock had truly ruined her for life.
"I'm sorry." She apologized, "How rude of me, I am Emily. Mrs. Benjamin Christie." She told him pointedly.
He smirked with a nod, "I know. I am Nicholas Greene."
Molly felt sick, this was the new Moriarty and once again the self-servicing- don't care who I kill psychopath was flirting with her! Although she forced herself not to react outwardly she couldn't help thinking she needed to go on a serious karma cleanse if this was the type of man she kept attracting, "Well it's nice to meet you again," She told him grateful to hear her voice was steady.
Greene bowed over her hand but raised his eyebrow at her quizzically, "You know I don't recall meeting you before but I must have because you would have not been invited otherwise." He stated plainly.
Molly laughed softly, "Maybe I am just not that remarkable enough to remember."
"I doubt that," Greene paused looking her up down causing her to regret wearing such a form hugging dress, "Unless you did not look like this last time."
Before she could reply not that she had any idea what she should say, Molly noticed Sherlock walking back towards them carrying two glasses of Champagne. "There you are darling," she greeted warmly, "I was beginning to think you got lost."
Sherlock smiled, "I ran into Elijah Ellington, you know how much of talker he is," He lied smoothly handing her the glass.
Molly nodded knowingly before gesturing to the gentlemen in front of her, "Oh, Benjamin you remember Mr. Nicholas Greene don't you."
Sherlock stiffened slightly at her side but quickly recovered, "of course. Our wonderful host, it is a pleasure to see you again."
"Likewise," Greene stated almost sarcastically.
Sherlock turned towards her, "Well dear, I believe this is our song. Shall we?" He asked gesturing towards the dance floor.
Molly recognizing the escape, slipped her arm through his, "I wondered if you would notice," She told him cheekily.
"Mr. Greene," Sherlock nodded as he led her away and Molly could feel the tension in his muscles although you would never know just to look at him. "Damn it," Sherlock muttered under his breath as they started to dance.
"What?" Molly trembled almost afraid to ask, "I thought you wanted to see him, I thought that's why you went looking for him?"
"I wanted to see him, not for him to see me," Sherlock whispered harshly, "He knows exactly who I am. I was just supposed to be another face in the crowd until I could get the evidence I needed for Mycroft."
Molly felt sick. This was the whole reason she had been brought along so Sherlock could blend in better. The minute she learned the man she was talking to was Nicholas she should have fled to intercept Sherlock instead she introduced them alerting Greene to his presence. "I'm sorry," She muttered feeling miserable.
Sherlock glanced down at her, some of the tension leaving him as he took her guilt-ridden face, "Don't be," He sighed, "I should have anticipated him seeking you out."
Molly frowned confused, "Why?"
Sherlock spun her around effortlessly, once again noting the ability to move with him instinctively as they flowed across the floor without having to think about the steps.
He leaned his head down towards hers, "Because Miss Hooper, you have been the focus of every man here since you walked in. You have put every other woman to shame tonight." Sherlock said, his hand slipping down to the small of her back, pulling her in closer.
Molly looked up at him meeting his gaze feeling her heart swell at his words, "thank you," She whispered.
He didn't say anything else but they kept their eyes locked onto each other as they danced. Palm to Palm and chest to chest. Molly could feel her breath catching in her throat not able to hear the music over the pounding of her heart. Feeling slightly pleased noticing that even Sherlock seemed to have lost some of his stoic demeanor.
Sherlock spun her out once more before pulling back in forcefully causing her body to slam into his, she let out a slight gasp at the contact causing his eyes to flick down to her lips but before she could move the song ended and he swiftly stepped away. She realized whatever spell they had been under while they danced was over as quickly as it had begun.
Molly tried to gather her bearings and prayed her legs were steady to walk, "Come on," Sherlock said with a sigh, "We should go. Now that he is aware we are here, he will be too alert for me to gather any information."
She nodded but before they could move Molly noticed Nicholas Greene walking towards them. While his face was pleasant, she could see the coldness in his eyes. Sherlock was right, she reflected with a sinking heart. He knew exactly who they were and in no doubt coming over to give some cryptic intelligent threat which you would only understand if you were Sherlock Holmes.
Remembering everything Moriarty had put him through, the desperation they both felt at needing this to be over, Molly refused to allow this night to be useless for Sherlock.
Digging down deep to find some feminine wiles she didn't even know she had, she stepped in front of Sherlock. "Mr. Greene," Molly practically purred, "I would be honored if you would dance the next one with me." She leaned into him slightly pressing her chest up against his arm.
Nicholas smirked letting his eyes slip down her dress, "I would be delighted. As long as your husband doesn't mind."
"Of course he doesn't," Molly said quickly before Sherlock could speak, "right, darling?" She leaned into Sherlock brushing her lips against his cheek, "Go," she whispered, "I will distract him as long as I can." Molly pulled back ignoring his thunderous glare, "Shall we?" She asked Nicholas coyly.
Greene pointedly ignored Sherlock as he pulled Molly in close, "absolutely.
Sherlock was torn watching him skirt Molly away. A part of him knew he should get her out of there while he still could except this may be the only chance he had to sneak upstairs. Sherlock briefly wondered how long she could keep him distracted but after seeing her smile seductively up at him and lean in closer, he realized he probably had time to grab tea before heading up.
Molly had been the focus of every male in the room in the dress alone but this, this was a whole new ball game. Briefly wondering where this side was coming from and a little angry that he had never noticed it before, he gave them one more glance before Sherlock forced himself to focus. He swiftly headed towards the staircase pushing all thoughts of Molly Hooper out of his mind.
Molly had no clue where this new found courage was coming from but she was going to work it as long as she could, "So, Mr. Greene-"
"Nicholas, please," He interrupted her with a smile.
She angled her head confidently, "Very well, Nicholas, then I am Emily."
He looked at her but did not comment instead moving her gracefully across the floor, "So what do you think of my humble abode?"
Molly let out a breathless laugh, "I do not believe I have ever seen anything less humble in my life. It's beautiful."
Nicholas nodded his head, "Yes, I have always been a great admirer of beautiful things. I have often felt life is better when one is surrounded by objects to showcase all the great things in the world. Reminds me why it is important to live not just to float through time."
Molly pretended to absorb this with a nod, in honestly she found his statement a little odd and out of place but she had no doubt Sherlock would have picked up the intention underneath.
"You see, Emily," He paused telling her subtle that he knew that was not her true name, "Due to unfortunate circumstances I grew up being denied many of life's pleasure. Everyday necessities others take for granted so I vowed to never again be denied of what I want, no matter what I have to do."
They stopped moving with Molly feeling cold at the tone in his voice, "Are you willing to pay the price for such a life?" She whispered.
Greene laughed, a deep laugh with no feeling, "It will not be me paying, my dear." He bent forward brushing his lips against hers softly before whispering in her ear, "so maybe you should ask Sherlock if he's willing to pay? For if he intends to engage in this game with me the stakes will be far higher than what he could imagine." With those words he pulled away with a wink, "Good-night, Dr. Hooper."
Molly let out a shaky breath as he walked away noticing the tremble in her fingers, she had no doubt Greene was just as dangerous as Moriarty and was not to be underestimated. She glanced over at him warily when he raised his champagne glass up pointing to something behind her.
Molly looked over noticing a man with a gun tucked into his side walking up to the second floor.
"Sherlock," She whispered frantically before taking off after them.
Sherlock broke into the room easily, his mind quickly taking everything in. The desk was an antique mahogany with matching bookshelves. Similar to downstairs it was filled with different sculptures. However, unlike the other pieces which had all been more modern this had an old-world feel to them. As though Green had been trying to create a library from a book he had read, "Hmm," Sherlock murmured picking up an elephant statue sitting on the desk noticing there was a least a dozen others throughout the room, "curious."
He sat down at the computer quickly going through files, despite Molly's new found charm Sherlock doubted she would be able to give him more than fifteen minutes before Greene sent someone looking for him. He could feel his frustrations mounting as quickly discovered that Moriarty had indeed trained his new apprentice well. There was nothing here to suggest that Nicholas Greene was nothing more than a very successful straight laced business man.
Just when he about to give up he noticed an encrypted email from a J.L. - Sherlock quickly put in his key to start his process of breaking it when he heard the sound of someone creaking on the floorboards outside. Cursing, he rose realizing his time was up. He snuck over to the door looking around for something to grab to help defend himself when he heard her, "OOPS!" Molly's called out loudly.
Sherlock scowled feeling his blood boil, "What is she doing?" He growled opening the door a peak noticing that Molly had stumbled on the front stairs causing the guard who had been trying to sneak into the room turn towards her. He quickly tucked his gun back out of sight, "Ma'am," He called out impatiently, "you're not supposed to be up here."
Molly giggled before standing up a little unsteadily, "I was just trying to find the loo," She answered happily giving off a very convincing performance of someone who had been drinking. The guard walked over grabbing her arm to steady her, "Ma'am"
Molly swatted his arm playfully, "Emily, please. Ma'am is for my mother." She leaned forward brushing her lips against his, "Do I look like my mother?" She whispered seductively. The guard licked his lips his eyes widening slightly, "No, I just meant-"He trailed off as Molly's hands started playing with his suit buttons, "Well what's your name?" She asked impatiently.
Sherlock shook his head in wonder at the scene playing in front of him, who knew Molly Hooper could be such a little minx when she wanted to be. He scurried back over to the computer quickly copying the file. "Yes," He called out triumphantly as it successfully downloaded he threw it into his pocket heading back into the hallway.
Molly had no clue when she went upstairs what she was going to do but she just knew she could not let him find Sherlock. She had to get him out of this and the drunk bit seemed her best bet. Thank goodness for her wild roommate at Uni so she at least had some clue how to act. It must be working because this twit was eating it up babbling about his name being Dale something or another when they heard the creak of a door being opened.
She placed her hand on his cheek forcing his head back away from where Sherlock was emerging, "I've always loved that name," She growled before kissing him frantically.
She could tell she had taken the guard by surprise but he quickly wrapped his arms around her forcing his tongue into her mouth. Molly had to stop herself from gagging at the sloppy attempt and resolved to brush her teeth ten times tonight.
"Emily," She heard Sherlock call out from behind her as though he had just climbed the stairs after her, "What are doing?" He demanded yanking her away from the Dale-guard." To which Molly just gave another giggle and slight stumble.
Sherlock shook his head grabbing her wrist, "Sorry mate," He apologized over his shoulder as they hurried away, "Can't take her anywhere."
They rushed back down into the crowd, "What do you think you were doing?" Sherlock hissed at her pushing their way towards the door.
Molly blinked at him, she had just saved his life and he was angry at her?
"What? The whole saving you thing? I don't know, call it force of habit," She snapped back.
Sherlock threw her a sing worthy glory but didn't comment. On one hand he knew he should be grateful for the easy exit but he couldn't help remembering the rush of rage he felt when he saw Molly kiss the idiot. He had to resist tackling the man down the stairs.
Still seething he flew outside quickly grabbing a cab, looking behind to the house Sherlock saw Greene staring at them from a large bay window. He grinned raising his hand in salute.
Sherlock narrowed his eyes at him before pushing Molly inside the car climbing in after her.
As the cab pulled out into the night, the two of them just sat there quietly trying to come to terms with what had just happened.
Molly could still feel her heart racing and the tension in the air seem to hang over them like a balloon. Finally unable to stand it any longer Molly let out a laugh, one she had been holding in all night.
Sherlock raised her eyebrow at her, "Is something funny, Doctor?"
She shook her head but couldn't stop her body from shaking with mirth, "No, of course not-"She let out a snort, "I can't believe I just did that." She cried with another set of chuckles.
Sherlock smirked some of the rage leaving his chest, "Which part?" He asked, "The part where you became some female fatale or the part where you gave a truly spectacular performance of a drunken twat?"
Molly shook her head, "The whole night." She shrugged in somewhat disbelief, "I feel like we just left a weird play or something, I have no idea how we managed to get out of this one."
Sherlock shifted pulling his coat around him, "Of course we did. I had the whole evening completely under control."
Molly glanced at him feeling her lips twitch in amusement, "Of course."
Sherlock gave a soft smile focusing his attention on the London skylight, they did not speak for the rest of the ride. As they pulled in front of her building Molly could feel the adrenaline wearing off and she was suddenly completely drained of energy. As they walked to her door, she could barely get her key in the lock.
She was startled to feel Sherlock press up against her back taking the key from her, "allow me."
Molly nodded gratefully leaning her hip against the doorframe, "Did you get what you needed?" She asked sleepily.
Sherlock glanced over at her as he opened her door, "that remains to be seen. I was able leave not completely empty-handed but whether or not it holds it any value I cannot say."
"I hope so," she replied walking into her flat thinking of nothing but a hot shower and bed when she was stopped by Sherlock grabbing her wrist causing Molly to look at him in surprise. "Thank you," He told her quietly, "For earlier and accompany me tonight."
She stared at him understanding it was not easy for him to show gratitude and admit he needed help. Acting on impulse she reached up brushing a flaxen curl off his forehead. He froze obviously not expecting such a gesture but he didn't push her away. She let her hand trail down to his cheek resting her palm against him, "You're welcome."
He nodded stepping back, pausing to stare at her for a few seconds before leaning in kissing her on the forehead, "Good-Night, Molly Hooper." He murmured gently before turning and swooping away in his usual dramatic fashion.
Molly just stood frozen in the doorway wondering what had just happened. Granted it was not a deceleration of love or anything significant. Hell, she had shared stronger intimacies with John but she couldn't feeling that something had changed between her and Sherlock tonight. Her forehead tingling, Molly walked into her flat with a goofy smile, knowing despite the tension of the night she would sleep peacefully.
Thanks everybody! I hope you enjoyed the ending of the Red Dress. I sort of left it open because I may end up doing a sequel at some point with Greene. Let me know what Y'all think!
