Molly winced as the seamstress poked her with a pin for the sixth time. "'ill you stand still Miss?" She ordered more than asked. Molly did her best to straitened up and stand still.
Her mother beamed at her and walked around, inspecting her from every angle. "Isn't this the best?" She asked Molly. "Now you'll be the image of modern fashion."
Molly sighed, making the seamstress poke her again. She did not want to be the image of modern fashion. She wanted to be the image of modern science. She wanted people in the future to look back and say what great things Molly Hooper had done, not that she was fashionable.
Her mother picked up another bolt of fabric laid out all around them. There was every shade under the sun. There were pinks, greens, reds, blues, lavenders, but not a single black, grey, or white in sight. Molly knew that her mother had done that on purpose. If her only daughter was getting a new wardrobe, it would be only the best. In Molly's mother's opinion that meant bright and bold.
"Of course we'll need to order some hats." She smiled. Molly's sagged in disappointment.
"'ill you stand still?" The seamstress asked, annoyed.
Molly straitened up. "You're doing to much mother." Molly said, trying to get her mother to slow down her eagerness to change Molly's appearance.
"Nonsense." Her mother said. "You'll soon to be a married woman." Her comment made Molly feel a little guilty. After all, her mother knew nothing of the true plans Molly had.
"We've only seen each other once." Molly protested.
Her mother smiled. "Only once? Bernard told me that you saw him the other day on your outing." Molly cursed Bernard under her breath. Why did he have to talk so much? "Of course, there's the matter of him formally proposing." She said. "A minor problem."
Wanda came running in to the room, falling over herself as she entered. "Mr. Holmes is here to see Miss Hooper." She panted.
Molly's mother clapped her hands like an giddy little school girl. "Show him in Wanda." She said. Wanda ran back down the stairs. She turned to Molly. "Isn't this just the best?" She asked her.
No, Molly thought. But she was thankful for the escape from the fitting.
Her mother ran around the room. "What to wear?" She said nervously. It was almost as if she was the one who was seeing Mr. Holmes. She picked up a dark blue and purple dress that was already finished. "Quickly Molly." She frantically helped her daughter in to the dress. It was rather uncomfortable, and made Molly itch. She also didn't like the giant bustle sticking on to the back of the dress. She stood back and looked over her daughter. "It will have to do." She pulled Molly down the stairs after her.
Mr. Holmes was standing right in front of the door awkwardly looking around. He was obviously not comfortable with the space as he still had his hat, coat, and gloves on. Molly's mother still beamed at the sight of him. "Do you want something to eat Mr. Holmes?" She asked him. He shook his head.
"Actually, I was on my way to a luncheon at a dear friends house. I was wondering if Miss Hooper would like to come with me." He said.
Molly's mother looked him over, obviously disappointed that he wouldn't be staying for tea. Molly, however, was glad for the opportunity to escape the house. Even if it was only for lunch. "It would be my pleasure Mr. Holmes." She said. Sherlock offered her his arm, and they left. Leaving her mother shocked behind her.
As soon as the door closed, Molly turned to the youngest Holmes brother. "Where is this luncheon?" She asked.
Sherlock smiled. "I lied." He said.
Molly nodded. "I thought you did." She said. She glanced at him as he helped her climb in to the carriage. "So where are we going?" She asked.
"The Tower of London. There's been a break in." He said. Molly laughed. "What is it?" He asked her.
"Nothing." Molly smiled. "It's just that it's much better than luncheon."
Lestrade was waiting outside for them when the carriage pulled up. He raised an eyebrow as Sherlock helped Molly out, but said nothing of it. It was common knowledge that John didn't help Sherlock with as many cases as he used to, perhaps Molly was replacing John. He was also surprised to see that Molly was dressed in blue, not her usual black or grey. "Sherlock." He shook hands with the young man. "Miss Hooper." He shook hands with her as well.
Molly glanced around the Tower. She had never seen it before. She had heard of it, and that it stored the Crown Jewels. However, the Crown Jewels were not on display to the public.
"What happened?" Sherlock asked Lestrade.
Lestrade shook his head. "There's been a break in. The Crown Jewels were stolen."
Molly's mouth opened in surprise. "Taken?" She asked. She had thought it was impossible for them to be stolen. "By whom?"
"I don't know." He said. "I was hoping you would be able to tell us, Sherlock."
He lead the two of them in to the Tower. Where the crown was supposed to be, there was nothing. Sherlock shook his head. Who would want a bulky crown?
Molly seemed to be thinking the same thing. She turned to Lestrade. "Did you see who broke in?"
"No." Lestrade said.
"Are there any guards who were on duty when they got stolen?" Molly asked. Sherlock whistled under his breath. She was good.
"They'll all dead." Lestrade said.
"All dead?" Sherlock asked.
"Yes."
"So there's a killer? Who broke in and stole the Crown Jewels? And he killed every guard on duty? And nobody saw him do any of it?" Molly asked. Lestrade nodded.
"I wouldn't say nobody." Sherlock interrupted.
"What do you mean?" Molly turned her brown eyes on Sherlock.
"There's always someone watching." He said. "If you know who to ask."
The sun was going down by the time that Sherlock got back to his house. His mother was waiting for him. "Where were you?" She asked. She did not approve of her sun staying out past supper.
"I was with Miss Hooper." Sherlock answered, trying to get his mother off of his back.
"Really?" His mother was surprised to hear that he had been out with the young lady. Just a week ago he'd been complaining about seeing her. Now he was coming back late from visiting her. Still, she had her doubts. "You didn't take her to a crime scene, did you?" She asked. "Girls don't like that kind of thing."
"No." Sherlock lied. "We went out to lunch." It was part of the truth. They had grabbed lunch from a second rate restaurant.
His mother clapped her hands. "What's she like?" She asked her son.
"She's a rather remarkable young lady." Sherlock said, taking off his coat. It surprised him even as he said it. He really meant it.
