Hey, here's Chapter 6! The title was thought up with the help of my home made editor, Grace!
Disclaimer: You don't want to know what I'd do if I owned Sherlock Holmes and/or John Watson. You really don't.
Enjoy:
The staring contest actually went on for quite some time. It was neither of their faults, other than their lack of concentration and willpower, that they were so mesmerised by each others eyes. As usual, Sherlock snapped out of it first.
"Molly." She blinked and looked back up at Sherlock, this time with a firm stare, despite the rising blush that was making its way to her cheeks. Sherlock observed her this time. She was trying to hold herself, trying not to cry for once. She wanted to be strong.
"Yes?" she replied, willing her voice to not waver. She succeeded.
"Molly, I believe I owe you an...um...an-"
"Apology is the word I believe you are looking for." Molly said, a small smirk playing on her lips.
"Yes, though I am not the only one at fault here." Sherlock replied with a stiff upper lip.
"You know that I am truly sorry, and I was since those words left my mouth. They were in the heat of the moment, and I was bloody pissed at you for barging in and- well, you know, anyway. You aren't the world's only consulting detective for nothing, Sherlock." she said. Sherlock smirked slightly- she finally knew when to stop rambling.
"Well, Molly, apology accepted- I know you didn't mean it anyway. I think it is my turn to apologise yes?" Sherlock took a deep breath and stared into Molly's eyes "Molly, I am very sorry. Please forgive me?" Molly stared into Sherlock's deep orbs; good, he had her in his grasp. What he didn't expect was Molly to throw her head back and laugh. Sherlock, for a split second, stared in bewilderment, but quickly sobered and settled on an annoyed pout.
"May I ask why you are laughing?" Molly, who had sobered to mere giggles allowed chuckles to burst passed her small lips again.
"Never-thought I'd-see the day when- Sherlock Holmes- would - apologise!" she managed, through small giggles and coughs. noticing Sherlock's mask intensify further, she quickly sobered and controlled her breathing. It was time to get serious.
"Sherlock, how long have we known each other?"
"Molly, I don't think-"
"How long Sherlock, and no interrupting with anything else. I need an answer, please." Sherlock looked at her body language. She was serious.
"About six years." he finally sighed. Molly nodded.
"Exactly- I may have said this before Sherlock, I'm not sure but: I know I'm no consulting detective like you are and neither will I ever be, but I have known you for over five years, and despite everything, I still consider you a friend. When you know someone for this long you pick up a few things about them along the way." Molly took a deep breath. No more beating around the bush "Sherlock, everytime you apologise to me, I know for a fact that it is fake. You don't apologise unless you feel like you can get something out of it. I have never had you apologise to me for real- how do I know that this apology isn't just you trying to win your way back to my lab and have me be your maid all over again?" Molly hopped up on her desk, allowing her knees to dangle off the edge. She was surprised when Sherlock stepped closer, well, more than that.
He strode all the way to the desk and placed each of his large hands on either side of Molly, trapping her, giving her almost no space to even squirm away. He leant down the tiniest bit so they could be at eye level.
"I did once Molly." he whispered. Molly struggled not to let out any sound; knowing her it would be a moan. She hated the effect he had on her. His eyes held so much sinceriety
"What?" she asked. NIce answer Molly. Now he's gonna think you are a nutcase, if he doesn't already.
Sherlock sighed. This may take awhile. "I did apologise to you once- at that Christmas party." Molly instantly rememkbered that horrible night, but pushed those thoughts away. Now was not the time to wail in self pity.
"I thought that was so that John wouldn't whack you again, or because you thought you would have no more access to-" Molly was cut short. Sherlock seriously did not understand or listen to any rules given to him.
"Don't you understand Molly?" his voice raised in volume as he turned and paced away from Molly. Both were confused by the disappointment at the lack of warmth from each other's bodies. So much for Sherlock that he involuntarily turned and walked over to her, again. What was wrong with him? Why did he want her to accept his apology other than for access?
Why was he so affected by her?
"I did apologise, genuinly, and I am doing that again now. Please, Molly. Please, stop being a woman and accept it because I honestly do not know what else to do or say." He had returned to his old position, this time however, his long fingers gripped the pathologists shoulders. At that moment, all Molly could think about was what does beautiful, slim, long fingers could do. Shut UP. she mentally screamed at herself. Of course she was going to get aroused by the bloody man she was having a heated argument with. The flustered pathologist sucked in a breath.
"You really mean this, don't you?" she finally said. The detective closed his bright, luminous eyes as he dipped his head down. The dark mop of curld tickled Molly's nose lightly. She liked that.
"Yes Molly, I do." he refrained from adding a I have been trying to tell you this whole time- he didn't need things to take a flying leap backwards to the strating point when the finish line was right in view.
"I-I accept Sherlock, but I swear, if you are acting a charade now I swear-" she stopped herself as tears began welling up uncontrollably.
"I'm not, Molly, I swear." Molly nodded
"Good. But a few rules-" Sherlock groaned, leaning his head down again, the top resting lightly on Molly's shoulder "I'm not being your maid, so get your own coffee. And no more sweeping in unannounced. You are not the queen, even though you in a dress would be...interesting" Sherlock snorted, muttering something about bedsheets being more comfortable "Anyway, you have to text me first- got it?" Sherlock paused.
"You really have changed Molly Hooper."
"Only to you. I'm like this to everyone else." he smiled lightly "Fine, I agree to your terms."
"Good. Friends?" Sherlock nodded. An awkward silence enveloped them. Sherlock began moving away, but a small, delicate palm on his toned bicep stopped him. He looked up into Molly's eyes. Damn those brown irises.
"Thank you." she said, before leaning in and pecking him on the check. She leant back, "For apologising. It means a lot." Suddenly, an annoying, high-pitched jingle filled the air.
"Damn it. Matty. My brother." she added, to inform Sherlock.
"Hello Matty?" She answered on the third ring. Sherlock didn't listen to the conversation, he was still in a state of mild shock at the random act of pure sentiment.
What scared him was that he liked it.
He still felt the mark where her lips met his cheek. It was a small, thin mark, like her lips, but it made him want to feel it everywhere. Damn it. He tried to delete it, straight away out of his mind palace but it didn't work. He almost groaned in pure frustration but just stored it away in his mind palace basement, where all the unwanted, but necessary thoughts were kept, like Mycroft's birthday.
Molly got off the phone.
"Sherlock, you may have to leave now. My brother's going to be over here soon and I have to find his kids. My nephews and niece are here." She said
"Are they the two boys John and I met outside the morgue? One a teenager who looks startlingly like me and a small blonde one?"
"You've met them then. Was my niece with them?"
"No female that I was aware of, so no. No niece." Molly smiled at his arrogance and certainty at how right he was.
"Well I'm going to round them up now, and you don't want to be here, trust me. My niece idolises you."
"Well, then, good day Molly." Sherlock smiled before sweeping out the room.
"Bye Sherlock." she answered before dialling Charlie on her cell.
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"So a little bird told me that someone went on a date with John Watson." Mary sat up, a furious glint in her eyes.
"Who? Name and description and where she lives." she demanded. Molly held back a laugh.
"Well, she's English, dark haired, about your height-"
"Whoever it is I'm gonna- wait. Oh come on. I haven't told you. Who told you?" Mary asked, slightly miffed that she fell for the prank, when her eyes widened in realisation. "Rachel. Damn that girl knows everything!"
"Well, she is Matt's daughter. Remember the college days?"
"Haha, yeah."
"Now tell me how it went so I can tease him!"
"You'll do no such thing. Well, I was sitting in my office and..."
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"Rachel, Charlie we have something to tell you." Matt Hooper said, running his hand through his shaggy hair. Both children recognised this as a sign of frustration and nervousness.
"They are not going Matthew." hissed their mother from the large sofa. She was pissed.
"They deserve to know. I've been listening to you this whole time and she has finally reached out herself. You are going to let them choose what they want Mia. You are still their mother and you know it. Don't make this a problem" Matthew sighed, turning his attention to his children as his wife huffed and pouted.
"Dad is this about our birth mum? If it is, just tell us." Charlie began.
"Yeah, dad, we are old enough to know." Rachel continued. Matthew thanked the fact that his children were prematurely mature when need be. They admittedly got that from their mother's side.
"As you know your birth mother belongs to a rich family, but they would not support her if she kept both her children, so she gave me full custody, no hard feelings. A few days ago, she called. Her brother's birthday is coming up and we're invited. She wants to meet you. I understand if you don't want to go, but either way I am. It's up to you. Neither of us-" he said, indicating to himself and his wife "will object either way."
"We want to go. I have only ever seen her in photos. I want to meet her." Rachel answered after five long minutes of deliberation with her brother. They rarely did anything without each other. Her brother nodded as well.
"I still refuse to meet that woman again." Mia huffed as she left the room, heading to the direction of the master bedroom.
"Well, I got an invite for Aunt Molly as well. Do you want her to come?"
"She got an invite as well?" Charlie asked, confused. Matthew smiled, recalling his uni days.
"Yes, well, before you were conceived, Rachel, your Aunt Molly, Mary and your mother were the best of friends. They had a bit of a fall out, but that's a story for her to tell."
"Well yeah, I want her to go. Make sure she does?" Rachel asked Matt, who smiled.
"Of course, now off to bed."
A while later, Matthew got up to call his sister. Just then his phone rang. It was Molly.
"Hey Molls, I was just about to call to ask you something."
"Yeah, um, me first. Mary was invited to Enola's brother's birthday. Whoever her family is."
"Oh really? So were you."
"What?"
"Yeah, she wants to meet the kids and they her. Mia and I were invited and it extended to you. Mia's not coming, for obvious reasons including jealousy."
"Is it a good idea allowing them to meet her? If she's half the person she was last time we met, it's not a good idea. At all."
"Molly, it's up to them how they rate their mother. Not for any of us to manipulate."
"Yeah I guess."
"The kids want you there, for moral support. Mia won't be there remember? No way I can do this alone." there was a pause, but Matthew patiently waited for an answer. There were muffled voices in the background.
"Mary's going, so I'll go too" Molly finally answered.
"Great! Say hi to Mary okay? See you."
"Sort things out with your wife. Night big brother." Molly hung up after that, and Matthew did the same. He sighed. His sister was right- she usually was. He headed to the bedroom. He and his wife would resolve this. Now, and he had a good plan as to how. He smirked a little.
That plan always worked ever since he started using it on their wedding night.
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"Go away Mycroft."
"Good night to you to Sherlock. As you should already know your birthday is coming up. You are having a party. Be home the day before. I have already invited your friends." Sherlock snorted.
"I am not going to any party," he said, spitting out the last word, "especially not my own."
"Mother is planning it Sherlock, and it's your first birthday we are celebrating since your return. You will be there. And before you ask, the diet is fine." Mycroft got up, his umbrella swinging around.
"No it isn't- you have given up on it." Mycroft snarled.
"Just be there. Nola will be there as well." he hissed before leaving the apartment. John watched the argument in amusement. They were the weirdest pair of siblings. He raised an eyebrow when he caught Sherlock's stiffer than usual posture.
"Are you okay Sherlock?"
"We are attending my birthday party by the looks of it."
"Really? Great- who's Nola?"
"Nola, as referred to by Mycroft and myself only, is our little sister. One I haven't seen in almost a year and a half."
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Again thank you Grace for editing my million mistakes.
Review? Decorate that little text box down there- you know you want to! :D
-Ash :)