Hello everyone :) Chapter 6 is here. I'm a little stuck and trying to move through it, so this one's a little shorter :/ Sorry, but I hope that by next week I'll have some direction and inspiration. Maybe I'll rewatch some Sherlock :D So hope its enjoyable.
Until next week,
Lady on the Grey
Chapter 6
"So how did it go?" John asked when Sherlock walked in.
"It went really well. We have another date on Saturday," Sherlock said unwinding his scarf.
John raised an eyebrow and took a moment to observe his roommate, not that he would learn much. "So you had a good time during a normal social event? There were no murders or crimes or poison?"
"Those things were talked about, but no none of that happened in the restaurant. Though I believe that we put a couple of other patrons off with our talk of cases. Molly was remarkably interesting, not something I expected," Sherlock said.
John's look of surprise remained on his face, "You're admitting that someone other than yourself is interesting?"
Sherlock stood there a moment and thought about John's comment, "I might be. I'm going in to bed now. Goodnight John."
Molly walked into her apartment and let her eyes fell on the bouquet. She sighed with a smile and hanged her coat on a hook near the door. Suddenly she remembered that she had left Vanessa in her room. She walked down the hall and checked the house, but she found no signs of her friend. 'That's ok, I'll talk to her tomorrow,' she thought to herself. She got ready for bed and lay down and waited for sleep, but sleep did not come. Instead she thought about Sherlock and their date. She was ashamed of a few of her thoughts, and eventually she fell asleep and she was pretty sure her dreams were about a certain consulting detective.
The next day at the morgue Molly was exhausted. Her sleep was plagued with dreams and bouts of wakefulness. On top of her exhaustion she was also anxious and on edge. Every time someone walked through the morgue doors she spun quickly to see who it was. She was half hoping that Sherlock would come and visit her at work, but he never did. She did hope that he was just as distracted as she was.
Sherlock paced the living room of the flat. He was certain he had never been more bored. He had told John that he had enjoyed the date he had had with Molly the night before. It was not an untrue statement that he had found the evening informative and it was pleasant as far as social interactions went. However, he refused to admit that there was any other value to the night. Molly was an interesting experiment, nothing more. There was no reason for her to still be on his mind, so he could not figure out what was causing his distress. He paced from the front room to the kitchen and then flopped himself into the chair. He glanced at his cell phone, no calls from Lestrade and no text from Molly. Was texting proper protocol after a date? Maybe the night was not as successful as he had initially thought. Should he text her? Was a follow up necessary? It was obvious that he needed further instruction in how proper dating procedure worked. It was not like him to plunge into an experiment without proper research, but he had made the assumption that dating would be so simple that more than menial research would have been necessary. However, it was now obvious to him that he needed further instruction, but who should he call to get that information? Who would know the information he needed, but also not pry into his business.