I don't own these lovely characters, if I did Sherlock wouldn't have made it out of the morgue that day with the riding crop without one Miss Molly Hooper on his hip... sorry that has nothing to do with my story, just fondly remembering my first Sherlolly notion. Please enjoy and thank you to all of my lovely followers and reviewers, you bring me joy!
A Broken Conversation
Sherlock reluctantly followed Molly into the sitting room and as she sat on the sofa he looked around the room helplessly. He had few options, he could sit next to her (not good, he was barely hanging on right now) or he could sit on the cat hair covered arm chair that was currently occupied by Toby's ever sleeping form or the ottoman (well that's just humiliating.) So he decided to be proactive...
"I thought we were going to fix that door Molly."
"Umm well yes, but I thought we should talk about last night first."
"What is there to talk about?" He asked nervously.
"My naked bum for starters." Molly said laughing a bit.
"It wasn't naked, Molly. I didn't see you naked." Sherlock said getting more agitated.
"It nearly was, look I'm not trying to make you uncomfortable Sherlock I'd just like to talk about this so we can get on with it."
"What?" He asked his eyes bulging. Of course all the poor man heard was get on with it, and in his tumbling Mind Palace it meant sex, at least for a split second.
"Sherlock why are you being so... weird, were you that affected by the fact that I own sexy things?" She said laughing again.
"I'm not being weird!" He snapped "And if you think for one minute that I was affected my your nearly naked body kindly remember that I've seen Irene Adler completely naked Molly, and there is hardly a comparison."
Sherlock instantly knew he had committed a mortal sin, the look on Molly's face was enough to tell him had managed to inflect enough damage to undo all the work he had put into this friendship. But that's just it, it wasn't work at all. He had enjoyed every minute of it, the experiments, the goodhearted arguments over the latest issues of their favorite pathology journals, the take-away, the quietly drinking tea while Molly reads science fiction novels and even watching as she would get riled up when he would ever so carefully push all the right buttons to bring out the fire in little Molly Hooper.
WHAT THE HELL?
Oh my God, what have I done?
Molly just sat there blank faced while all these thoughts went through Sherlock's mind. She must have had enough because she finally spoke up.
"Well, I predicted this... I actually knew this would be the next step. Thank you for confirming it for me right away, so I didn't have to wait for the proverbial shoe to fall."
"What do you mean?" Sherlock said in a very breathy voice.
"It was fun while it lasted, having your respect and even friendship. But I won't go back to the way it was before, I can't Sherlock. I'll call Greg to help with the door, you can let yourself out." Molly got up from the sofa and started to walk past Sherlock but he grabbed her wrist.
"Oh, right. I'd almost forgotten about this part... okay get it over with."
"What?"
"The false flattery to smooth things over, go ahead. You can't even help yourself, same old pattern. Let's just skip it though because I have one hell of a headache... it's fine, just let go of my wrist Sherlock."
Panic was truly setting in now and he was desperately trying to figure out what to do. His mind was literally waring with it's self, but he knew one thing... he wasn't letting go of Molly Hooper's wrist.
"No, Molly."
"Excuse me?"
"I said no, I'm not letting go. Because you don't understand, and I don't understand and... " He looked away and tried to come up with a solution but he didn't have one.
"Sherlock, you just told me that my body doesn't compare to that of your ex-girlfriend's, not that I would have ever thought it did, but seriously? Can't you just let me go so fix my closet, then crawl in it and have a nice cry." She laughed awkwardly.
"Molly that's not what I was trying to say or maybe it was but it's not what I meant to say. Urgh! How do you deal with these... these... feelings all the time. I've had them for less than twenty-four hours and I'm half out of my mind." He said with one hand rubbing the back of his neck and the other still firmly gripping Molly's wrist.
Molly sighed "What in God's name are you talking about Sherlock?"
"Please Molly, give me a minute... I need to think, I can't think while you're being... you."
"Oh right, forgot myself again."
"NO!" He yelled, "You're missing it."
"Yes, simple little Molly misses the point once again... I won't be treated like a doormat again Sherlock..."
Molly was going on about well... something, he was sure it was important but all he could suddenly think about was her perfect mouth, pink and soft... is it soft, I bet it would be soft. Oh, she's mad now, did she just call me a fucking twat? Oh, Molly... such a foul mouth when you're all worked up.
Sherlock grabbed her shoulders and pressed his lips firmly to hers. He didn't move his mouth at all at first just savored the sweet silence, not just the reprieve from Molly's on-slot but for the first time since he had last shot himself full of heroin his mind was completely still, completely blank... blissfully so. Then his mouth suddenly decided it was time to change things a up bit and started moving. Which felt marvelous and Sherlock had to applaud his mouth's decision until Molly put her hands against his chest and pushed hard, breaking the kiss.
"Really? Kissing? You think that's going to fix this? What's wrong with you Sherlock? Have you lost your mind?" She said turning away from him wiping tears from her eyes.
I made her cry... I kissed her and made her cry. I shouldn't be allowed around people. This was always going to end badly. Fix it, fix it now!
"Molly," Sherlock said as he reached out for her, but she shrugged him off. "Molly, I wasn't trying to manipulate you just then, if that's what you think. I... I wasn't."
Molly slowly turned to face him, tears in her eyes and streaming down her face she still looked stunning.
"Then why the hell did kiss me Sherlock? Hmmm? To shut me up, all you had to do was let me go. I asked you to let me go and you wouldn't. So tell me, why'd you do it?"
"I think... because I wanted to." He said very hesitantly.
"You think?" She shrieked.
"Yes?"
"Urgh! You are impossible! If you aren't going to give me a straight answer just go, go right now and don't you dare even think about coming back. I mean it, you've gone too far this time. I can't take it anymore. You have no idea how easily you can hurt me... and I let you do it over and over. Damnit, this feeling..." she was shaking her head her arms folded protectively over her stomach. "I almost forgot how much it hurts... this false hope!" She started sobbing in earnest once again.
"No, I do... I did mean... I wanted to kiss you, I want to kiss you. I'm sorry, it's just new and hard to explain. I don't understand and you were sexy with your garters and stockings. I felt things... things I haven't felt since, well a very long time. And I didn't know what to do with them, it was you and everything is already so easy with you, we're so easy. And I didn't want to come here today because I knew when I saw you I'd think things again, all those very, very naughty things I was thinking last night then I couldn't stop thinking of them. I tried not to, but then today you had your cleaning clothes on and damnit if you didn't look sexy again... and Adler was never my girlfriend, we never... ever... and I shouldn't have said what I said, but I meant it, but not the way you took it. There is no comparison, because you were so much lovelier, are so much lovelier..." Sherlock stopped because he was breathing so heavy he realized he may well be on his way to hyperventilating.
Molly was staring at him, eyes as big as saucers. Finally, after about two minutes she found her voice.
"That was very lovely, what you said there... about me and well so... you and her never?"
"Never... Molly?"
"Yes?"
"I'm going to kiss you again..."
Thanks for reading.
