I am really sorry for the late update. Cut off was last week and I had to get in a bunch of units for school. It's winter break after Thursday so I hope to update more frequently.
Special thanks goes out to Beth-TauriChick, yellowflower-12, Empress of Verace, Zora Arian, ravenoak2, Rocking the Redhead, videogamelover221, and magic strikes for reviewing. It's always appreciated.
And without further ado, the next chapter! Hope you enjoy.
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Molly stood in front of the mirror examining the dress from side to side, looking for a reason to hate it. Couldn't there be one thing Sherlock Holmes was poor at? It would have been a rather simple black dress if it weren't for the bright red bow that tied beneath her bust. The only consulting detective in the world could leave his job and work in fashion if it had suited his fancy. She smiled slightly at the thought of Sherlock in a trendy little shop helping women find clothes. But he wasn't doing that; he was on his way to pick her up for their date. Well our fake date, she corrected. Molly was nervous even though she knew it meant nothing to him, she was a prop, a disguise, and most importantly a ticket in. She wondered if he knew how much this night means to her. Molly wasn't left to wonder about it for too long because three crisp knocks on the door signaled the detective's arrival.
"Hello Molly." Holmes announced when she had swung open the door.
Molly blushed, "He-Hello Sherlock."
He gazed intently at her for a moment, "Now that you're out of your usual, horrid wardrobe you look rather – " He glanced at his watch and noticed the time. "We're going to be late."
Molly flushed a deeper shade of red as they walked down towards the waiting cab wondering what word was going to finish that sentence.
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The cab ride was for the most part spent in silence. Sherlock had spoken rapidly for a minute, "This is of course a case and you're not to get in the way of my work. This could be dangerous, so when I tell you to leave immediately you are to do just that. Lestrade will be showing up in two hours unless I alert him otherwise. You are to leave with him when he arrives if I have not already asked you to make yourself sparse. He will take you back to your flat and his least daft officer will watch you. Do not leave your flat and tell no one where you were tonight. Don't draw attention to yourself, do not distract me, and do not annoy me."
"I understand." Molly said quietly, she understood that this was to be strictly business and nothing else. They fell back into silence.
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When the cab pulled up Sherlock had gotten out quickly to hold the door open for Molly. It was to start immediately. As she climbed out he gave her a warm smile that was very unlike him. Sherlock rested his hand on her back and she jumped at bit at his touch. As he guided her into the gala he leaned in to her and whispered, "Relax, you're too tense." Just before Sherlock pulled away he kissed her on the cheek and laughed. Molly was alarmed at how normal he could be if he tried. But the demeaning, condescending, brilliant Sherlock Holmes was buried somewhere deep inside the one she was with now. Despite how much she enjoyed his attention, part of her wished she could spend the evening with Sherlock, not his facsimile.
Music played gently behind the dull noise of chatter. Women dressed elegantly sat tall and poised on the chairs, men in suits and tuxedos flattering them and drinking. "How am I supposed to act naturally in a place like this?" Molly said under her breath. She hadn't intended Sherlock to hear but he hears everything.
"Just follow my lead." He assured her and his grip on her waist tightened slightly as he guided her over to the dance floor. He turned to face her and he offered his hand.
"Sherlock, I don't know how to dance." Molly told him quietly.
"Give me your hand." She placed it on top of his; he rested his other on the small of her back and pulled her in closer to him. Molly couldn't remember how to breathe; they stood so close to each other now. He took a step slowly instructing Molly which feet to step with in response. She slipped up several times resulting in her stepping on his foot. Molly's face became a deep scarlet. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. I'm lousy at this."
"You're lousy because you aren't relaxing and you're thinking too much." He pulled her in again, closer this time and swept her off onto the floor again. "Look up at me. Not at your feet, Molly."
She looked up at him; his eyes were watching her carefully. Molly felt dizzy under his gaze. "Don't think about the steps, just let me lead you." He now looked over her shoulder and out into the crowds of people. He was looking for their man. Without his ice blue eyes on her she managed to relax a little and follow his steps more naturally. The music ended and he came to a stop, his hand still lingering on her back. Couples around them started looking back at them and smiling. "Why are they looking at us?" Molly asked nervously.
"Not sure."
A plump woman with rosy cheeks smiled broadly at them. "Well, go on then." She urged cheerily.
"Sorry, what?" Molly replied.
"You lot aren't just going to stand under the mistletoe and not kiss are you?"
Sherlock and Molly looked up to see green leaves with little white berries hanging from a red ribbon that matched the one on Molly's dress. Sherlock chuckled and said a quiet, "Oh." Molly's heart raced, would he kiss her just to stay in character? Her question was answered.
Sherlock wrapped his arm further around her waist, pulling her in tightly. Molly noticed only her dress and his suit now separated them. His free hand came and rested on the back of her neck and he leaned in to kiss her. Molly stood completely paralyzed for a minute, unable to fully register what was happening. His hand reached up into her hair and she returned the kiss. He pulled away smiling slightly, Molly looked at it, realizing it wasn't his fake smile he had been using all day. It wasn't the one he flashed grieving wives in turn for information. It wasn't even the one he used on her to see bodies. Instead, it was that small, undeniably happy grin that was exclusively used in small moments that actually made the icy detective happy. When John said something amusing, or when Sherlock poked fun at Mycroft, and apparently kissing Molly under the mistletoe.
Molly however had flushed deeply at the kiss and she averted her eyes from his. Sherlock took her hand and guided her over to an unused room. He paced back in forth for a minute, his eyes closed. Needing quiet to go to his mind palace and sort out all the information he had gotten tonight, something kept muddling up his thoughts though, and that something was named Molly.
"I'm-I'm sorry." Molly muttered.
"Sorry?" Sherlock asked genuinely confused before cluing in. A look of realization draped over his features. "Oh. No, don't be sorry. It's not your fault we ended up under the mistletoe." She still looked upset to him. "Besides, I rather enjoyed it." He added in a deep purr.
She looked up at him in shock but he had begun to relay everything he knew to her. "I saw him. I doubt you noticed. He was in the grey suit dancing with the woman in a dark blue dress. I recognized him eventually from the distinct pattern of wrinkles around his eyes. He's definitely the same man from the mall. I have a feeling he recognized who I was as well, considering his glances at me and his nervous demeanor tonight."
Molly just nodded unsure of what he wanted her to say. "Let's go have a chat with him." Sherlock said leaving the room. He stopped looking back to Molly. "Go now, wait outside for Lestrade."
"I want to see this through." Molly replied with a sudden bout of confidence.
"It might be dangerous. You agreed, you said you'd leave when I asked you too."
"It's not dangerous though, it's some posh party."
Sherlock reached a hand up to her cheek. His fingertips lightly traced her jawline. "Just go." He tried to keep his voice the usual deep mystery but a pleading undertone was audible.
Sherlock walked Molly to door to ensure she would get in a cab and go home. He hailed a cab and held the door open for her, acting as they did when they arrived minus the cordial attitude. Molly looked from him to the building, unknowing what the night's events had in store. She walked up to him and placed her hands on his shoulders delicately; standing up on her tiptoes, she kissed his cheek. "Don't do something stupid and get yourself killed, yeah?" She told him. His emotionless expression never faltered as she sat down in the cab and he closed the door on her. Molly worried all night.
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A/N: Oh, is this a more human side of Sherlock beginning to arise? Anyway, apologies again for the late update. I hope to update again really soon, so keep in tune. Hope you liked the chapter and be sure to review below.
Thanks lovelies.
