Hello and welcome back everyone! Thank you so much for reading and reviewing this story, it always puts a smile on my face :) xx Anyway, here's chapter 3… xx
Torture - the action or practice of inflicting severe pain on someone as a punishment or in order to force them to do or say something. Also, being trapped in a wardrobe with Molly Hooper and not being able to act upon certain impulses without being caught by a potential criminal wandering just outside. As they waited silently, listening intently, Sherlock was sure Molly was tracing her fingers up and down his shirt and sighing in appreciation. Molly wished she was in her flat but at the same time, didn't want to leave. The movements outside stopped and a voice called into the quiet house.
"Sherlock? Are you still here?"
With a huff of frustration, and extreme disappointment, Sherlock shoved the wardrobe door open and came face to face with a worried looking John. Molly stepped out of the dark wardrobe and folded her arms, glaring at Sherlock and tapping him on the arm.
"A friend of yours?"
Sherlock ignored her and turned to face John, who was staring at Molly and the wardrobe with an amused expression.
"What are you doing here?"
John frowned but didn't remove his eyes from Molly as he answered his friend, his smile growing.
"Lestrade asked me how the search was going." Sherlock glanced at the floor but John continued. "Naturally, I had no idea what he was talking about, so I asked him where you were and why you didn't want me to come. It seems…now I know why."
John was grinning broadly and nodding towards Molly. Both Sherlock and Molly were scowling at the doctor, equally irritated. Sherlock cleared his throat and took a step towards John, waving his hand in Molly's direction as he spoke.
"John Watson, this is Molly Hooper, the pathologist I…mentioned from the hospital."
John smiled and rubbed his hands together as he moved towards Molly. He brushed past Sherlock and grasped Molly's hand, a look in his eye that Sherlock knew only too well.
"Hello, Molly it's a pleasure to meet you at last…and I wouldn't say you mentioned her, Sherlock," he glanced back at Sherlock with a twinkle in his eye and a mischievous grin. Sherlock placed his hands behind his back with a raised eyebrow as John turned back to Molly, "He hasn't shut up about you since you met…in fact, I'd go so far as to say-"
"Thank you, Doctor. Did you find anything?"
Sherlock knew for a fact that John hadn't found anything either but needed the change of subject. He could still feel his cheeks burning. Molly was watching him curiously but turned her attentions to John once he started speaking.
"No. I don't think anything is here. What shall we tell Lestrade?"
Sherlock shook his head. "Nothing. I had my suspicions that he was aware that nothing was here."
John frowned. "Why would he do that?"
Sherlock sighed as he took out his phone, tapping away furiously as he spoke. "Probably to distract me from the murder investigation he is currently working on. A solo project he has taken on in order to gain favour with his superiors."
John was nodding, rubbing his head whilst Molly was swaying on the spot as if in a trance. Sherlock thrust his phone back into his pocket with a triumphant grin. Shaking his head, John headed towards the door without a second glance.
"Hang on!" He stopped suddenly, his hand on the handle, turning around to face them. Sherlock and Molly, who had been staring intently at each other, faced awkwardly away from each other. John furrowed his brow in confusion, "…if you knew there was nothing here, why did you come?"
Sherlock rolled his eyes and moved towards the door. "I was bored."
However, even John didn't miss how his eyes had settled on Molly for a brief moment as he strolled forwards. They traipsed out of the house and onto the dark London street. They had managed to hail a taxi, even though the driver grumbled about it being the end of his shift. Whether to annoy Sherlock or just as an accident, John climbed in first and gestured for Molly to climb in next to him. Sherlock reached for the handle of the front passenger seat but John frowned and shook his head.
"Come on Sherlock, we don't smell."
Scowling at his friend's stupid grin, he climbed into the back and was immediately pressed against Molly. John had been wrong; Molly smelled heavenly and it was painful. Thankfully, it was too dark for John to see how he looked at her and how his cheeks were still burning. Molly was trying and failing to look anywhere but at Sherlock. Meanwhile, John seemed to have all the space in the world, stretching his legs out comfortably. Why isn't she shifting towards John? Unless, she's playing mind games with me. Sherlock frowned and tapped his hands impatiently on the car door, earning him annoyed glances from the other three members of the taxi. Sherlock felt something vibrating against his leg and glanced down. Molly gasped and reached for her phone, brushing his trousers as she did so. She swallowed and cleared her throat before answering, trying to shift her flustered tone.
"Hello?"
"MOLLY! Are you alright? Where are you? I thought we were having that quiet night in you wanted?"
Molly swallowed before lowering her voice slightly. Sherlock was in a perfect position to hear every word her boyfriend spoke and, for some reason, this pleased him.
"Well, that would have been nice if you had finished earlier! What kind of computer technician works this late anyway?"
John was wincing and staring intently out of the window. Sherlock hadn't mentioned a boyfriend. Had he? Sherlock, meanwhile, was thinking about a particular sentence she had said: What kind of computer technician works this late anyway? Could it be Mr. Perfect Boyfriend isn't as…perfect as he seems. For the time being, Sherlock decided to keep this to himself and continued listening intently. John peered at Sherlock, and noticed he seemed to be uninterested but was leaning just a little too far back in his seat. John returned to staring out of the window, a sigh escaping him. Sherlock could just make out how Molly's hands were clenching as her boyfriend appeared to be taking his time answering her.
"I…we…well, it was a busy day. Look, I thought you said we need the extra money…or do you not want to get married anymore!"
Molly bit her lip and wondered for a moment what to say. Sherlock, however, had never been more delighted. So, little Miss Hooper is engaged! Yet, she chooses not to wear the ring? Oh, this has just developed an interesting twist. John was glancing around outside and was wondering if the cab ride always took this long. Molly muttered something and hung up her phone, sliding it through her fingers. Sherlock cleared his throat and couldn't keep the laughter out of his voice.
"Trouble in paradise?"
Molly glared at him, a look of fury just visible through the passing street lights. "Drop dead, Holmes!"
Sherlock chuckled and turned his head, towards the window. "I would think about that if I were you…where would I end up, Miss Hooper…and who would have to…'examine' me, if that were the case?"
Sherlock was smirking as he faced Molly once more, a devilish twinkle in his eye, and Molly was blinking rapidly and swallowing rather urgently. John groaned and considered yelling at them to 'get on with it'. He felt a pang of sadness for the boyfriend; he didn't know what it was but Sherlock and Molly couldn't seem to keep away from each other. Their eyes would occasionally drift to the other, no matter how they tried to avoid it. They would find excuses now and again to reach and 'accidentally' brush the other, whether it be stretching or…something else. John was growing increasingly impatient and not to mention…uncomfortable. The car soon slowed outside Molly's building and the driver was tapping his fingers on the steering wheel impatiently. Molly shot an awkward smile in John's direction, who nodded in reply, before turning in the other direction to get out of the car. Sherlock, however, appeared to have no intention of moving aside to let her out. Instead, he inclined his head sideways slightly and raised a challenging eyebrow at her, a small smirk noticeable once more. John sighed, rubbing his temple. You have got to be kidding me. Molly, however, accepted the silent challenge with a huff of irritation and was moving to climb over and past Sherlock. The look of surprise was evident on the detective's face for only a brief moment until Molly swung her leg over his lap so she was straddling him, the door remaining closed and forgotten…just like John and the cab driver. John caught the eye of the driver in the mirror and John shrugged whilst the driver huffed as he checked his watch. Molly was leaning her forehead against Sherlock's now and was playing with strands of his curly hair, a teasing look in her eye. His hands were moving up and down her back. John watched with horrified amusement; he didn't know what to do or where to look. Molly smirked deviously and she began moving her hand slowly in the direction of the car door.
"You should have moved…"
Sherlock's eyes flickered in the direction of her lips…the temptation was unbearable. His hands settled on her hips, gripping her firmly. John raised his eyebrows at the movement and folded his arms curiously.
"Now, why would I have done that?"
Molly shook her head and breathed out, "You're infuriating…"
Sherlock breathed in sharply. "So are you…I was fine until you came along and now-"
"Excuse me! I am running late…I have my own family to get back to, you know…"
The taxi driver had banged his hand on the steering wheel and turned around the face them. John buried his face in his hands, wishing he were anywhere else and waited for…anything. Even though Sherlock's grip on her hips remained, Molly swallowed before pulling her door open and stepping out rather quickly without another glance back at the taxi. The driver set off once more, grumbling to himself and Sherlock ruffled his hair, a deep sigh escaping him. He could see two possible situations occurring between Molly and her boyfriend: they were currently having an almighty argument or had made up and were currently heading for their bedroom, hand in hand. Personally, he predicted, and hoped, it was the first option. Sherlock soon became aware that John was staring at him and turned slightly towards him and caught sight of his wide grin, raised eyebrow and folded arms.
"Shut up…"
John smiled as he shook his head. Oh, Sherlock, what have you done?
The next few days were complete hell for John. When he wasn't sat on the sofa, absorbed in his mind palace with his hands clasped under his chin in the usual way, Sherlock was pacing up and down the room, shooting deductions and theories about one certain subject: Molly Hooper. Since the taxi incident, John had avoided all questions associating her but that didn't stop Sherlock from constantly talking about things he had noticed over the short time he had known her. Now, Sherlock was once again sprawled on the sofa lazily, a deep frown on his face as he shook his head. John watched him with a confused expression, the paper he was trying to read forgotten in his hands.
"What's the matter with you?"
Sherlock glanced quickly towards John before sitting upright suddenly and saying in an annoyed voice, "There is no room..." another confused stare from John caused Sherlock to stand up and pace the room once more, "in my mind palace…it is filled with useless information on that…irritating woman…"
John rolled his eyes and hid his smirk behind his paper; he had given up trying to read after he had read the same line three times. How quickly the apparently 'immune' become incredibly infatuated. And Sherlock bloody Holmes of all people.
"Don't you think it's time you did something about it?"
Sherlock didn't answer, instead stopped pacing and clasped his hands under his chin. After hearing the door to the flat slam shut, John frowned and looked over the top of the paper. Sherlock had disappeared and John didn't need telling where he had gone.
Sherlock stood outside the entrance to Bart's lab, peering through the window to watch Molly working on an analysis. Hmmm, she obviously spent more time on her appearance this morning and choosing her clothing meaning the boyfriend wasn't present at her flat this morning. She was able to perform her morning routine without the needless interruptions. Molly took a step back and a deep breath, pulling off her gloves and fanning herself. She swept her hair behind her back and placed her hands on her hips, watching her sample with a satisfied smile. That is until Sherlock strolled into the lab with a furious look on his face. Molly frowned at the intrusion as she whirled around to face him. He stopped in front of her, breathing heavily with his hands clenched by his sides. After a few moments of staring each other up and down, Sherlock spoke through gritted teeth.
"I…hate…you."
Molly raised her eyebrows and slammed the gloves down hard onto the table, breathing heavily now as well. Their eyes met as she stomped forwards, until they were mere inches apart. Her voice was shrill as she spoke to him, her tone harsh.
"You avoid me…don't even speak to me for nearly three days and now you come…all this way to tell me you…hate me? Seems like a wasted trip to me…"
She attempted to push past him as hard as she could but he grabbed her upper arm and stopped her. Sherlock spoke in a low voice, lower than usual, directly into her ear, making sure his breath caressed her neck. Molly stiffened and tried to keep her face stern as she stared ahead, fuming silently.
"I was not…specific…I mean, I hate…what you have…done…to me."
Molly moved her head towards Sherlock's and met his blue eyes in an intense gaze, her lips parting slightly. Before she could reply, however, he was kissing her. No, kissing implied tenderness and care. Sherlock Holmes was snogging Molly Hooper, desperately and hungrily, one of his hands on her back and the other in her soft hair, and Molly was responding with such enthusiasm, Sherlock was forced to stagger backwards a few steps. Her hands had found themselves gripping and clawing at his muscled back and shoulders.
Outside on the street, Oliver swallowed the cool, night air and considered, if Molly wasn't going to answer his calls, he'd have to seek her forgiveness in person. It was one stupid fight; it can't be over like that. I have to fight for her, I love her, for God's sake. His footsteps echoed down the hall, tapping on the cold tile floor, but neither Sherlock nor Molly seemed to notice as their hands travelled down towards each other's shirt buttons…
Dun Dun…DUN! Hmmm, was that too soon? Ah, there's still plenty more that's for sure ;p I really don't know how to feel for Ollie, lol :s Well, what's going to happen now? xx Thank you so much for reading, reviewing, favouriting and following, big hugs to you all and I hope you liked that chapter. Stay tuned, back soon :D xx
