"Molly would you ummm… would you to have, ah, like dinner… with me?"
"I don't eat on a case, and you Sherlock Holmes know that; even when I do eat it's usually not a meal. I'm sure Irene would join you if you require sustenance." Molly kept her focus upon the cultures that lay under the microscope, key to the case, outside distractions weren't much appreciated, but she continued the to talk to Sherlock, she knew dismissing him would be rude. And she had no patience, no time, for Irene to be in one of her moods.
"Yeah, of course, just slipped my mind I suppose."
"Ordinary people frequently do little else than have things 'slip their mind'." Molly was now rolling her eyes; she could hear the shuffle of Sherlock's feet, a nervous tic the physical embodiment of Irene's 'not good'.
"Everyone is ordinary to me, do not take offense Sherlock, you are surprisingly much less ordinary than most." She turned to him, noticing the tinged pink of his skin rising from his collarbone for the first time, and smiled in a way that was probably far from comforting or real, but the best her busy mind could offer.
"Thanks. I guess. That's quite the compliment from you Molly Hooper. I'll return the favour, get out of your hair, text me if you need anything, I'll be downstairs pretending to finish paperwork." He smiled, Molly had always appreciated his genuine smile, a little lopsided and filled with teeth, and she couldn't help the twitch to the corner of her lips, it was involuntary, it caught her off guard, but it was not unpleasant.
"You're too good for paperwork, Sherlock Holmes."
"Aha. The broken right femur, common in all but two, why is it crucial?" Molly was tapping Sherlock's fountain pen on the desk, a tic, her tic, she always stole his pen. "Unless… No! Yes! Oh, that's perfect… he's good. Irene, can you not see? Those two they're a copycat, working at the same time to divert attention, that's clever, but without the autopsy report our copycat could not have known about the right femur. Two murderers both so clever, but still so ordinary." Molly grabbed the sides of Irene's face, shaking her entire being, excitement buzzing from her every pore. Irene could never quite decide whether she was a fan of 'post-case Molly', too much energy, all leading to the inevitable boredom crash, and that was fatal.
"I must call Lestrade, the first murderer is, in fact, the man we detained in custody not three hours ago. I knew it! Why does it always take so long for you all to believe me?" Molly let out an aggravated sigh, still tinged with the bliss of another case solved.
"And the copycat killer?" Well, mostly solved.
"I'll need case notes all of them. And the autopsy report, Sherlock's smart enough he could have noticed something, the copycat is sloppy, it's more than likely he's left some key evidence behind. I also want to know the family history of Jack Nicoles, our original killer, any sons with low recognition, any family member who goes unnoticed by the man, ignored. It's quite clear our copycat is looking to impress our murderer, to finally be seen in the light they 'deserve'. " Molly spoke those last few words with derision, as she spun to face Irene scribbling down notes in the shorthand she'd learnt at medical school.
Molly also noticed a sheepish looking Sherlock in the corner, it was his lab, he had every right to just barge in and reclaim his space, but he always waited for Molly to finish. The slow smile on his face suggested he'd heard all of her previous stream of words.
"We best be off then, criminals to catch! Oh and Irene, I see it went well with Jessica, it appears you have another date, will she soon be the spy who shagged you?" Molly was proud of her pop culture reference, she hadn't exactly been immersed in the world at the time and was always pleased to slip them into conversation; even the death glare from Irene was worth the soft chuckle from Sherlock.
"Oh come on. Don't glare at me like that. It was a joke, I understand that is not necessarily where my skills lie, but I thought it quite humorous, and I see that Sherlock agrees."
"Don't drag me into this." Sherlock spoke over his own laughter from the corner of the room, making his way over to his stack of paperwork, and the far more interesting blood cultures he was about to examine.
Irene took a slow calming breath, she couldn't help but laugh that Molly had attempted humour, forgiving her instantly as she always would.
"C'mon then, I want this case closed sooner rather than later. I mean you haven't eaten in days Molls."
Molly visibly shook at the nickname; she already detested her given name, Margate Anne Hooper, but there a problem had always arisen with Molly's dislike for nicknames. Her name was legally changed to Molly Anne Hooper at the age of sixteen with both her mother and father's permission, she had been called Molly since birth, even if there were a few pieces of important paper with Margate on them, but Molls, she was a grown woman, that would be like calling Sherlock … Sherly!
The nickname, best way to get my own back. Irene thought as she saw anger bubbling behind Molly's big brown eyes.
"Just a joke." Irene smiled sweetly, innocently although terribly fake.
"You win this round Adler. And you're right, it has been three days and sixteen hours since I last ate 'properly' give or take, I may just have to take Sherlock up on his dinner offer."
The pair left in a flurry, too quickly to noticed the spray of Lucazade from Sherlock's mouth as he repeated and repeated Molly's last sentence.
"You can't keep playing him along, he likes you, you know."
The case was now finished, both the murder's having confessed and merely waiting days for the inevitable and easily called trial. Guilty. Irene wanted some gossip, or whatever it was when Molly acted less distant and cold towards a human male. She was aware Molly was straight, having actually met two of her previous 'boyfriends' over the three years they'd shared a flat. She even, rarely, oh so very rarely, check guys out, there was no other way of putting it, it was beyond the deductive glance, if she found a man attractive enough to gain her attention her gaze would always fall effortlessly to his arse. Every single time. Irene had also noticed the Sherlock Holmes has 'gained Molly's attention' on more than one occasion, how come the 'geniuses' are always so stupid?
"Who's that then? Lestrade? I would say he likes me enough that he gives me good cases, good friend the Detective Inspector, gotten me out of a few sticky situations."
"No, not Lestrade. Sherlock."
"Well of course Sherlock likes me. We have been friends since I snuck into his medical school, pretending to be a student for supplies, and his elder brother took an interest in my mind." She held a smug grin, it was always pleasing to remember that she was essentially the British Government's fall-back.
"No he like likes you." Irene nudged her, winking, and feeling not unlike shed been transported back to secondary school.
"Don't be absurd Irene, Sherlock does not hold anything but platonic attachment to me, romantic entanglement is your area, not mine. I'm hardly any mans 'type'." She scoffed.
"So you're blind then, I mean I knew that you were repressing something on your behalf, but denying something that stares you blushing and stammering in the face everyday is stupid."
"We are just friends Irene." She exhaled sharply.
"Okay, okay. I won't push it any further," she said "today." under her breath.
"Good." Molly said through a tight smile.
"So where are you going out to dinner with your one hundred per cent platonic friend?"
"Just Angelo's." And Molly was all but gone.
I'm sorry it took so long for me to right this, and I have a bunch of excuses if you really want to know, but I hate feeling like I've let you down. For now all I can say is sorry, and I will write more when I can :) I love you all.
Molly is blind, just as Sherlock usually is in non-swaplock Sherlolly. Haha.
I don't know what Molly's problem is, I love the name Molls, but I suppose she'd good for accepting her friendships, and generally being more open than a Sherlock based character usually is, she just looks to sweet to be cold and cruel all the time.
