...

The Road Less Travelled By

A Sherlock fanfiction

Sherlock is the property of Arthur Conan Doyle, Steven Moffat, Mark Gatiss and The BBC.

This story is purely for entertainment – please do not get offended

Enjoy…

Part IV

Molly blew gently into the palms of her hands and slowly rubbed them together, trying with all her might to warm herself up. It was almost as if they had gone back in seasons because this cold that currently plagued London was the kind of weather they had in December time, not early February. While it was true that the month of February was part of the winter season, it didn't stop her from complaining about it. It was just human nature to complain about the weather. In fact, it wouldn't surprise her if London was covered in snow by the end of the month.

A smile crossed her features at the thought of snow. She absolutely adored London in the snow – anywhere in snow, really. The snow reminded her of her father. She remembered when she was younger and it had snowed overnight, her father had come into her room and told her to look outside. She was so excited by the white covering that she jumped out of her warm bed and ran outside, still clad in her pyjamas. She had been laughing the entire time, running around the garden as her father shouted for her to get dressed in proper clothing and that he would take her sledging. He'd even let her skip school that day, claiming she had a strong bout of flu. They spent the whole day sledging: her, her father and her older brother-

Molly shook her head viciously, frowning, willing the last part of the cherished memory away.

"Molly!"

Molly turned her head, smiling as the perfect distraction arrived. "John."

The man grinned sheepishly, rubbing the back of his head. "I'm sorry I'm late – I had a row."

Molly tilted her head to the right, regarding John with sympathy. "With Sherlock?" she asked gently.

"No, it was a cash machine this time," he told her honestly. He felt that it was only right that she be well informed of his small tendency of arguing with inanimate objects.

Molly laughed and John found himself smiling back at her, noticing the way her face lit up and how her eyes twinkled with glee. "It tried to rob me blind and in broad daylight, Molly. Unfortunately, when you argue with those sorts of thing, you forget how easy it is to draw in a crowd. I'm just glad I managed to gain a shred of self-control or I'd be looking at my second ASBO."

"You've got an ASBO?"

John sighed, nodding as he said the one word that would explain everything. "Sherlock."

"Ah, say no more," Molly smiled. "Did you manage to get everything sorted then?"

"I did, yes," he told her, digging into his jeans pocket and handing over a crisp ten pound note. "I believe this belongs to you."

The pathologist took the money, sticking her tongue out in return before laughing once again. "Looks like coffee is on me then."

"Technically, it's on me," John replied, opening the door for her and using his hand to motion her inside. "Ladies first…"

"Spoken like a true gentleman."

They walked into the quaint coffee shop, savouring the warmth that hit them the moment they stepped under the heater. It was bliss. There weren't too many people in the shop, which made the atmosphere much more cosy and comfortable. John had told Molly to sit down at a table while he got their drinks. He even insisted on paying, refusing to take the money that Molly tried to slip into his hand, claiming that it was his idea to go for coffee, thus his obligation to pay. Molly found it difficult to refuse; however, it may have been due to the feigned hurt look that John shot in her direction that convinced her.

"One cinnamon latte for you," John said, carefully sliding the drink in front of her. "And, one cappuccino for me. Are you sure you don't want a muffin or anything to eat?"

Molly stirred the drink. "Thank you for this, and I'm okay. Knowing my luck, if I indulged in a chocolate muffin, Sherlock would find some way of commenting on the sudden weight gain," she laughed.

"I won't tell, if you won't tell," John grinned.

Molly laughed once again. She was doing a lot of that today. Always a good sign, she figured.

The afternoon passed pleasantly enough for both John and Molly, conversation flowing with ease. Molly listened with interest as John told her stories of his youth, especially his exuberant university years. It amazed her that Mike Stamford would do half of the things that John had told her – they really were quite the pair, she laughed to herself. She had to admit that her own university experiences were far from thrilling and that she was quite the quiet bookwork. When John refused to believe that, Molly smiled slyly, a mischievous glint in her eye.

Now, however, the conversation took a turn and Molly was now in the process of defending herself, trying to hide behind her empty glass as John laughed at her expense.

"It wasn't funny, John," she exclaimed exultantly, though the smile on her face said otherwise. "I had an elderly patient forcing me to lie down while demanding that the doctors take my blood pressure and glucose levels checked. It was the worst first work experience day ever – can't believe I had a dizzy spell. It wasn't like it was a huge deal … all he was doing was drawing blood, missing the vein albeit."

"I'm sorry, but that is one of the most hilarious things I've heard for a while," John sniggered, biting his finger to try and stop the obvious noise he made.

Molly arched a brow. "So you've never had any experiences like that when you were training in the hospital?"

"Nope."

"Something tells me that you aren't quite telling the truth, Doctor John Watson," she beamed, leaning forward on both her elbows.

"How badly do you want to know?" John asked, suggestively raising a brow, which caused Molly to giggle in such a wonderful way that he decided to swallow his pride and tell her the embarrassing truth. "It happened ONCE."

"Do tell…"

"I'd say it was during my twelfth observational operation. I'd been in cardiothoracic, watching hearts being sliced open, blood everywhere … that didn't faze me one bit. What did finally caught me, which I never for one moment expected, was a minor operation. Cyst removal."

Molly stared, mouth open ajar. "You fainted because of a cyst removal op?"

"Hang on, hang on," John breathed, waving his arms lightly for emphasis. "The cyst was on the tip of a man's penis. The anaesthetic injections and slicing was fine, however, the moment the doctor began sutchering the tip of his foreskin, I was out like a light. Flat out on the floor – just like that," he said, clicking his fingers. "I had managed to conveniently erase that from my memory up until now."

John looked at Molly, seeing her shoulder shaking with the laughter she was trying to supress, her lips pursed tightly as light giggles accidently escaped her mouth.

"This is karma, isn't it?" he asked, bemused.

The woman laughed once more and took a deep breath, face breaking into a serene smile. "Perhaps we should leave? It seems like the staff are starting to become slightly wary of us. Plus, we wouldn't want to risk you getting that second ASBO now, would we?"

"Of course not," he sniggered, collecting his coat from the back of his chair and putting it on. He watched Molly fiddle with her scarf and gloves before even attempting to put on her coat. He wasn't sure why, but he found himself walking to her side and lifting her coat for her, holding it open.

"Oh, thank you," she said softly, extending her arms through the holes of the coat before pulling it around herself.

They made their way to the exit, biding the staff a good day as they went by. John, once again, held the door open for Molly, who, once again, smiled and thanked him.

"I don't know about you, but I really enjoyed myself today," Molly said softly, shyly looking at John, not really knowing what to expect at this point. Something positive, she hoped.

John nodded. "So did I. Do you … fancy doing it again?"

"I'd love to, however, I'll probably be working late again all next week (again)."

"I could bring coffee to you then. I'm sure, should he tag along, that if we give Sherlock a couple of tissue samples and a microscope, he'll sit quietly in a corner and possibly behave himself," he chuckled.

"I'd like that," Molly smiled.

"So it's a date then?" John grinned.

Her cheeks flushed a little as she nodded. "It's a date."

Molly shivered as she felt John sweep her hair to the side and gently pressed his lips to her left cheek. "See you tomorrow then," he whispered into her ear before pulling away and smiling warmly.

Molly blushed slightly, nodding her head and waving gently as she said goodbye and turned to leave. She walked halfway down the street and decided to turn around, comforted at the sight of John remaining where he was previously, watching her. She waved once more, smiling.

To be continued...

I hadn't intended on writing this so quickly but I've been having the same problems as a couple of others here and my story hasn't been showing up. Just wondering whether uploading would help solve the problem.

Anyway, I hope you liked the date and that it wasn't too strained - I was aiming for being natural but romance seriously isn't my area lol.