The door to the black cab swung open nearly hitting Molly in the face as Sherlock ushered her inside.
"Aye, Sherlock. That's my face," she complained.
He made no attempt to answer, but awkwardly protected her face with his hands as she ducked in from the curb outside Howard the train guy's flat. Molly shot Sherlock a puzzled look before strapping herself in on the left side of the back seat.
The cabbie up front waited for an address before punching it into his GPS and driving away, all while humming a song to himself.
Molly waited in silence, apart from the humming up front, as Sherlock sat stoically beside her watching the buildings pass outside the window.
"So all the... threats have been taken care of?" Molly asked while trying to be discreet despite the fact that the cabbie seemed to be paying no attention to his riders in the back seat.
"Hmm?" Sherlock hummed before fully processing her answer and replying before she had time to clarify. "Oh yes, that. Moriarty is no longer a prominent concern of mine."
Molly winced at the sound of Jim's name and laughed inwardly at how heedless Sherlock could be with sensitive topics. "So we are all safe now, I gather?"
"Safe?" Sherlock chuckled to himself –one of the few times he actually displayed that emotion usually coincided with everyone else looking dumbfounded around him.
"Yes, safe," Molly reiterated. "As in, none of the lives of your friends and family are in danger." Her patience was growing thin with his inability to carry out a normal conversation.
Suddenly Sherlock soured at Molly's apparent temper. "We are all in danger, Molly. There is an eminent attack by a secret terrorist organization in the works right now. How could that ever mean that you are safe? "
"I'm sorry," Molly added looking down at her lap where her seat belt had twisted in her frenzy to put it on earlier. "I wasn't aware."
The cab pulled to a stop outside of an old-fashioned converted pub and Sherlock handed the cabbie a few bills from his pocket, not bothering to check the meter before doing so. The cabbie shot Sherlock a confused look eyeing the dark haired man and the petite woman beside him. Molly was worried that either a: the cabbie would ask about their heated discussion or b: Sherlock would deduce the cabbie and explain how he somehow knew the total for their journey by observation. But neither occurred and the cabbie turned back around as the two exited the cab.
Molly should have been relieved but something about Sherlock's exchange with the cabbie unsettled her. Since when does Sherlock skip over an opportunity to show off his intelligence?
"Sherlock," Molly stopped him from entering the pub with an outstretched hand barely grasping the corner of his coat sleeve. "What's wrong?"
He sent a look back at her, stone cold and piercing, and was about to pull himself free from her hold on him when he sighed, giving into another side of himself. "You'll never be safe Molly. Not as long as our interactions continue and probably long after that as well. I have grown accustomed to you and any enemies of mine with at least a hint of intelligence will catch that and could possibly take advantage of that."
Molly nodded along, hoping she understood where this was going. But then Sherlock stopped as if his answer was sufficient enough. But it wasn't; for Molly anyway.
"You can't walk on egg shells forever, Sherlock," she said bluntly. He was no longer held back by his coat and she was no longer keeping him from moving away, but something stopped Sherlock from continuing on. "Like you said before, this will never end, so why can't you be at least a little bit selfish considering everything you have done for others? The hero gets a few indulgences once in a while Sherlock. Why can't you give in to yours?"
"I..." Sherlock sputtered. It was as if Molly possessed an invisible hold on him that he just could not pull away from, no matter how much he wanted to ignore it. His thoughts were retreating and pulling him away from reality into his mind palace.
His Molly, the one that always existed for him in his mind palace closely mimicked the real Molly standing two feet away from him now. Her arms were crossed and she stood there, in an empty room, tapping her foot, waiting.
"Well?" Mind palace Molly asked. "Why haven't you indulged?" A coy grin spread across her face and Sherlock rolled his eyes at how cheeky Molly could be sometimes –well I guess his mind palace Molly that is.
"I don't know," Sherlock replied. It was the truth or a stretch of the truth. He had no logical explanation of why he hadn't indulged. Molly had made a decent point. If they were always going to be in danger by association, why couldn't he associate more with her. The alternative would be blocking her from his life completely and he would never possess the will power to do that.
"You're afraid," Mind palace Molly said out of the silence.
"No," sherlock shot down the statement quickly, but he couldn't help but process the possibility.
"Like you said, relationships aren't your area."
"They could be," Sherlock retorted as mind palace Molly proceeded to leave through a set of doors resembling the lab at St. Barts.
"Yeah, okay," Sherlock heard her say sarcastically as she receded.
"I can!" Sherlock called back.
"You can?" Molly asked somewhat shocked as she tried to hide a small smile creeping onto her face.
Sherlock caught the change in attitude and realized he had uttered his last statement out loud. "I can protect the ones I care about, Molly. I have the most surveillance a brother of the British government can gravel for, looking over John and his new girlfriend... as well as Lestrade among others."
Molly shook her head catching onto him side tracking the conversation. She was about to retort when he turned away from her and stalked into the the pub. He waited for her at the door, holding the dark grenadilla door open for her.
But before Sherlock could call her forward, Molly had lost her patience and already decided that spending an afternoon drinking copious amounts of alcohol in Sherlock's presence was not wise.
"Molly!" He called out after she was already a good ten meters away from him. "Molly! Where are you going?" He sounded annoyed as if he were calling to a child that had run off.
"I just remembered some things I must get done," she replied sharply. Molly caught one last glimpse of the baffled look on his pale face before departing for good.
His hand, still resting against the dark wooden door slipped idly down the outside and came to a rest dangling beside his Belstaff coat. His confused look fell as well and was replaced with a countenance of aggravating regret. He retreated to his palace once again to center himself, but found his place of solace invaded my his mind palace Molly. He could hear her teasing him between laughs, "Told you it wasn't your area."
With much disdain, Sherlock entered the pub, where he planned to replicate one of the many inebriated nights from uni, even if it was only mid-day.
