Molly Hooper was fifteen minutes late. Sherlock was sitting in a café in London, waiting for Molly to come for coffee. It was supposed to be their first date but she hadn't arrived yet. Sherlock began to scratch his arm with nerves. Where was she?
Hi, Molly. Just wondering where you are :) –SH.
He opened his book to try and distract himself. Sherlock always had a book with him, just in case he ever had free time.
John, I think I'm being stood up –SH.
Sherlock didn't know what to do. He had texted Molly and hadn't heard anything so he texted John hoping for some advice. He almost leaped to his feet when his phone trilled.
Have you sent her a text? Called her? I'm sure there's a perfectly logical reason as to why she isn't there. –John.
For Christ sake, John, standing me up is perfectly logical reason as to why she isn't here. Maybe you should think a little more about the fact that I knew this would happen. –SH.
Sherlock put his phone on mute and downed the rest of his coffee. He didn't feel like hanging around anymore and he was pretty sure Molly wasn't going to turn up. With a sigh, he grabbed his book, left some money on the table and walked out of the café.
He was devastated that Molly had stood him up, of course. For the past 18 or so hours, Sherlock had been so excited for the opportunity to go on a date with Molly Hooper, the adorable woman who had walked past the library so many times but never once looked his way.
It seemed that first impressions were everything. Molly Hooper hadn't seemed all that impressed when she first met him, and here he was, alone on what was supposed to be a date with the only woman who had ever sparked an interest in Sherlock Holmes.
He walked out of the café and turned a few corners before arriving in a large park. Taking refuge under a tree, Sherlock took out his phone and opened his book.
Call her, Sherlock. She's probably in traffic or something. –John.
Sherlock frowned as he realised that was his only text. It had been thirty minutes since they were supposed to meet and it appeared Molly Hooper was not interested in a date at all, she was just stringing him along. He imagined being stood up hurt more than being rejected. It was a logical assumption.
Molly had just finished her autopsy and looked at the clock hanging on the morgue wall. She smiled as she realised she had twenty minutes before her lunch break and she'd meet Sherlock at the café a few stations away. She was going to take the Tube and meet him for coffee. It was one of the first lunch dates in a while that she'd been excited for.
As the time ticked closer, another body was brought in, accompanied by the police.
"Morning, Doctor Hooper," Greg Lestrade said as he led the procession. "Murder. We need to perform an autopsy right away."
Molly bit her lip. She had less than fifteen minutes before lunch…but she had to help out.
"Alright, Detective Inspector. But I have to go straight after. I've got a lunch date," she told him.
With a nod from Lestrade, Molly got stuck into her newest client.
She was ten minutes late. Molly reached into her bag as she ran out of Bart's. It was only as she arrived at the Underground that she realised her phone was in her lab coat. With a groan, she decided she'd have to suck it up.
As she got onto the platform, everyone started to walk away. A man must've seen the horror on her face.
"There's been a delay of an hour," he told her as he walked past.
Molly froze. An hour? Man, she was so late!
With a sigh, Molly followed everyone else up to the surface, just in time to see a black car pull up and a young woman step out.
"Molly Hooper?" the woman asked her.
Molly frowned. "Yes."
"I need you to come with me."
She shook her head. "I'm not going anywhere with you."
The lady sighed and pulled out some identification. "I'm with MI6. I'm going to require you get in the car with me."
"I haven't done anything wrong," Molly argued, glued to the spot.
"I know," the woman said, "but I've been told to get you. You need to come with me, right now."
Against her better judgement, Molly decided she had to get in the car. She was in no position to run as there was nowhere she could go without the MI6 agent catching up.
Once Molly was in the car with her seatbelt done up, the car took off, speeding through London. They pulled up outside a large, isolated building. The woman slid out of the car and waited for Molly to follow.
The pathologist climbed out of the car and watched in horror as the young woman got back in the car and drove off, leaving her alone.
"Molly Hooper," a voice called from the doorway of the large building. She spun around to see a man in a three piece suit standing before her with an umbrella in hand. "Perhaps you and I should talk. Please, follow me."
He turned around and walked into the building, leaving Molly on the footpath. As her head caught up, she walked in to find it a deserted warehouse.
"What do you want from me?" she asked.
The man turned around and gave her a small smile. "I just want to talk, Doctor Hooper. I want to talk about Sherlock Holmes."
She looked down at her watch to see she was now over half an hour late. "What about him?"
"I'm aware you are meant to meet him, but I think we need to talk before you get involved with Sherlock."
"Well, I refuse to talk to anyone about business that is not their own," Molly replied while crossing her arms.
The man frowned. "You don't understand. This is my business. Sherlock Holmes is my younger brother and I don't want him to get hurt, especially by you."
"I completely understand." Molly frowned and looked the man up and down.
"I am aware. I'm warning you now, Miss Hooper, Sherlock is a delicate person who can't handle rejection and loss. It was a tragedy when he finished reading the Harry Potter series." Mr Holmes shook his head. "It was dark days in the Holmes household, I can tell you that."
Molly narrowed her eyes at the man. "I'll do my best to not hurt Sherlock, although that may be hard, seeing as I am almost twenty minutes late for a date because of work, the Tube delay, and you."
"Actually," Mr Holmes said, "you'll find that I caused the Tube delay and I requested the body be sent to the morgue just as you were planning on leaving. We needed to have a chat before you met with my brother."
"Are you kidding me? Oh my goodness, this is ridiculous." Molly ran her fingers through her hair and groaned. "Sherlock's gonna think I've stood him up." She looked back up at Sherlock's brother and narrowed her eyes again. "Are you doing this on purpose? Do you not like me? Do you think I'm not good enough for your brother? Why would you do this?"
Mr Holmes stood with a stony face and left a small pause before replying. "On the contrary, Doctor Hooper. You are the first woman Sherlock has taken an interest in and I'm only hoping that nothing bad happens. Ergo, we had to talk about Sherlock."
"Well," Molly started, "I think we've done enough talking. We've established I don't want to hurt Sherlock and yet, I have indirectly caused him pain and suffering because you decided it best that we have a talk today of all days."
Molly turned around and stormed out of the building, leaving a rather smug Mr Holmes behind her. It was only when she got onto the street that she realised she had no idea where she was and had no way of getting home. As she took a step to the left, preparing to walk for goodness knows how long, the black car pulled up beside her and the back door opened. She got into the car to see the woman still texting away.
"Where to?" she asked Molly.
The pathologist looked down at her watch and sighed. She was half an hour late for the date. He would've left by now. She normally left twenty minutes after the date time if the other person didn't contact her.
"Back to Bart's, please," Molly told the woman and she leaned back in her chair.
Molly had no idea of how she was going to apologise to Sherlock and score another date.
When his lunch break was over, a heartbroken Sherlock returned to the library and finished cataloguing some books before he had to deal with a few tourists who wanted to hear what he had to say about them. By the end of the day, Sherlock didn't even want to face John at home. He knew his colleague and flat share would complain about how Sherlock let Molly slip through his fingers.
Despite what John thought, it was rather difficult for Sherlock to interact with people, especially chasing them up. How on earth was he supposed to call Molly and ask where she was? He had enough trouble calling the doctor to make an appointment.
For the first time in months, Sherlock stepped out of the library to see a black car waiting for him. A young woman exited the vehicle and approached him.
"Evening, Mr Holmes," she said, eyes locked on her BlackBerry.
"Good evening to you too, Anthea. Is it Anthea or something new today?" he asked.
Anthea just gave him a small smile. "Yes." She looked back down at her phone and her fingers flew over the keys again. "You've been requested."
"I guessed that much," he muttered back and walked towards the car.
He slid in first and she followed suit.
A/N: hey there, darling reader!
So, my apologise for not updating sooner. I really don't have any excuses. Also, my apologies for the kafuffle with the first chapter. It has been resolved, even though I probably mucked about more than necessary.
Unfortunately for me, school is about to start again, so I'll either write a lot more or much less. We'll see.
What have I been working on? Er, mainly Ermergerd-Lock. I don't think anything else, really, which is bad because I've got various stories that need to be update. I'm sorry that I'm terrible. Not really. I rarely say 'sorry' because it's usually an irrelevant word that sounds so erch.
Right, with that, I'm off. I'm still tired and I have some errands to run today so I'm going to nap and then write, probably. We'll see.
Blerch! I'm rambling. Apologies.
I hope you enjoyed the chapter :)
X
