Slightly drunk and definitely curious Molly ends up with a lot more questions without answers. It's kind of fluffly. Jim may be a bit OOC, depending on what type of tone you "hear" when you read what he says. R&R! 3
Nothing to be Embarrassed About
Chapter Seven
Sebastian put her down on the couch, going to get her water from the kitchen. Molly pouted. "This isn't my home...I'm tired. I want to sleep at my home." She said again, then looked up. "I'm not a bear. You're a bear."
"Oh, of course you're not, my dear. Not a bear like me. No, you're a sweet little teddy bear. A Molly-bear." A smile crossed his face briefly. She was really quite precious.
Molly huffed, then smiled. "Okay. I can be a Molly-bear." She flopped over on the couch. Sebastian smiled and pulled her back up, giving her a bottle of water. "Drink it..." She fumbled with the cap, and slowly sipped on the water, looking at Jim.
"Feeling alright there, dear? Not getting sick on us, are you?" Jim set his flute upon the fireplace's mantle and walked up to the back of the couch, placing his hands on her thin shoulders.
"I'm tired. I want to sleep..." She pouted, drinking the water. "I'm not getting sick. I'm fine. " She looked up at him as his hands settled on her shoulders. "Can I sleep?"
"Mm. Perhaps. I feel we're all a bit tired tonight." He softly stroked her from the top of her head to the tip of her shoulder.
Molly leaned into the stroke, having drank about half the water. She put the bottle down on the nearby table, sighing softly as he stroked her head. "That feels good..."
"Does it now?"
"Yes..." Molly closed her eyes, putting her chin to her chest. Jim continued his to stroke her lightly, his fingers digging in a little bit to help relax her. Molly relaxed further, sighing as he stroked her. She drifted off to sleep, sitting there as he stroked her hair.
"Such a sweet girl..." Jim's fingers lost themselves in her hair smoothing out tangles and twirling around curls. "Mind getting her a blanket, Seb?" Grunting in acknowledgment, Sebastian walked into the hallway and opened the linen closet; grabbing a nice microfiber blanket, he handed it to Jim. Molly sighed, stirring a little bit as Jim's fingers smoothed through her hair. She shivered a little bit, stretching, then curling up in the corner of the couch.
Jim withdrew his fingers and covered her with the blanket. He went into the kitchenette and filled up two glasses with water for her in case she woke up in the middle of the night. From what he could remember, Molly Hooper didn't handle her alcohol well come morning.
Molly woke up a bit later, in the middle of the night. Her eyes flew open, startled at the fact that she was somewhere different, somewhere not her flat. Remembering and feeling intense pain on the left side of her head, she looked to the side, hoping to find water, and when she did, she drank the glass completely. She pulled the blanket up over her shoulders again, closing her eyes, and fell back asleep.
Sebastian and Jim had retired to the only bedroom in the flat—the flute of wine on the mantle and the bottle that been on the floor no longer in their spots. Giving Sebastian the flute to use, Jim took the bottle and drank from it—not sharing a drop. "Very amusing, Sir." Sebastian said his tone contradicting his words. "Sharing is caring; isn't that what you said to me before we got into this? Now give me the damn bottle.." He gritted out, a touch of mirth filtering through.
Molly stirred slightly, hearing voices. She stood and walked over to the door, listening quietly, leaving the blanket on the couch. She put her ear to the door, closing her eyes as she listened to the voices.
"I've never been known to be monogamous, Sebby, you know that. After all, weren't you the one who seduce me away from your own mother...? By the way, how is the old bird? Still fluttering around Iran...?" Jim passed the bottle to Sebastian, and the bottle made contact with the glass making a decidedly annoying clink. Jim grimaced in annoyance. "Glass... it's ever so... passé."
Molly frowned, straining to listen in on the conversation. The large man allowed Jim to call him Sebby? She tripped on the carpet, nearly colliding with the door in a bit of a scuffle-thud. Gasping, she clasped her hands over her mouth and ran back to the sofa, jumping on it, pulling the blanket over herself, and pretending to be asleep.
"Pets. You can't have two hours worth of alone time without them pleading to you for attention... Better check on the dear; knowing her, she's probably having a moral conniption.." Jim climbed off the bed and stepped up to the door and opened it. Walking up to the couch, Jim leaned over it and roughly shook Molly. "Yeeeess, my dear? You want something?" The living room was a bit more cool than the bedroom, and Jim's bare chest developed goose-pimples as a result.
Molly wasn't that great at pretending to be asleep. She looked up at Jim, jumping when he touched her, rolling to her back when he shook her. "I don't... I'm fine... please... I..." She thought about it for a moment, breathing. Her head still hurt. "Do you have any ibuprofen?"
"Yes. Do you want to be independent or must I get it for you myself?"
"I can get it if you tell me where it is. Can I go home?" She asked hesitantly, pulling the blanket around herself a bit more.
"In the kitchen. Third cabinet to the left; top shelf. And no." Jim sat up and made a slow retreat back to his room.
"Wait!" Molly jumped up. "Why not? Please... Let me go home." She huffed.
"I made my call for you, and you'll do what I say until I say your free." Tugging the door shut behind him, he made one last comment before it closed. "If you're going to try to spy, you might as well knock and come on in, Molly."
"But..." She frowned, and turned to the kitchen, getting the medication, taking two of them, then going to the door, blushing as she knocked and came inside. "I wasn't spying."
"Mm. Right. And Jim's the Queen of England, Molly Hooper," Sebastian retorted. He was lounging on the bed in a pair of loose fitted bottoms, and there were bottles of alcohol stashed across the room.
"What do you want with me? Why won't you let me go home?" Molly asked, sitting on the corner of the bed.
"I don't always have to have reasons for what I do, Molls, sometimes I just do them." Jim's bum was resting against a dresser, and he had a bottle of vodka in his hand raised up to his lips.
Molly frowned, huffing as he looked at her. She wrinkled her nose as she saw him drinking straight vodka out of a bottle. "Fine."
Dryly, he asked, "Did you really expect a better answer..?"
"Yes." She sighed, cautiously laying on the foot of the bed. "How can you still be drinking? My head feels like you put spikes in it."
"I'm Irish, my dear, and I didn't start the night as early as you did." Taking one last swig, Jim put the cap back on and slipped in beside Sebastian on the bed. Moran eyed Jim; it always threw him off how Jim was such a happy drunk. His moods turned sour fast, but it never lasted for long. Whatever it was that kept Jim going bubbled to the surface through alcohol..
Molly looked up at him, then sighed. "Lucky... I didn't even have that much." She looked at Sebastian. "You let him call you Sebby... I heard it. What am I supposed to call you?"
Glancing between her and Jim, Sebastian made a quick decision. "Moran—until we figure out each other's places with one another in regards to this fucker..."
Molly's eyes widened. He just called Jim a fucker... Well, she thought he did. "Moran." She said quietly. She glanced at him, then scooted a little closer to him. Any man brave enough to call Jim a swear word was someone she wanted to hide near...
"Making nice already, Seb...?" Jim's eyes danced menacingly—a gloating grin plastering itself on his face. "Trying to impress my lady, I see."
"He called you a fucker." Molly said quietly, watching Jim. She smiled at Jim as he watched them both, stretching on the bed. "...I like him already."
Snorting, Sebastian pulled his shirt up revealing several scars that matched the one upon his face. "I've had good reason, Little Hooper. Jim's not a nice man, you see..."
"I'm not little." Molly retorted. She blinked when she saw the scars, scooting up with a frown as she trailed a finger over one of them. "These look like they hurt... They wouldn't have scarred so badly if they'd been stitched up..." She told them both, looking at Jim for a moment before looking back to Sebastian.
Putting his arm around Jim, Sebastian shifted to get more comfortable; her touching him made him feel edgy. "In my line of work, I don't have time for stitches, but if you stick around, perhaps there is the possibility of making it."
She withdrew her hand, sitting back on her heels. "If? I wasn't aware that I had a choice in the matter."
"You don't," Jim said breaking his silence. "He was referring to whether or not I keep you around." Jim grabbed the wine bottle from between him and Seb and popped the cork out of it to take a drink.
Molly looked up at him, watching him drink from the wine bottle. She chewed on her lip. "You won't kill me, will you?" She asked quietly, brown eyes on Jim.
Jim set the bottle down and looked at her shrewdly. "If I wanted you dead, Molly, you wouldn't be here."
She swallowed hard, nodding, looking down. She sighed and blinked. Why was she here then She opened her mouth to ask then closed it. He'd told her that he'd just felt like bringing her here, and that she couldn't go home because he said she couldn't. "What do you want then?"
"I don't know, Molls. I never planned anything with you past playing Jim From IT. I was just minding my own business, spying on Sherlock in your little morgue when a strange little idea popped into my head, and the next thing I knew, I was fucking your brains out the next night." Tucking his thumb underneath her jaw, he brought her eyes level to his, "And I had this funny idea that you should be mine." Leaning across Sebastian, he caught her lips with his.
Molly was forced to look up at him, and she blushed as he kissed her, a bit flustered. He was gentle. It was much different from the other day, when he'd fucked her senseless. When the kiss ended, she swallowed hard, her heart racing as she leaned back to sit on her rear. "And now I'm yours?" She asked, watching Jim.
He licked at her lip. "That and more..."