Chapter 9 – Cui Bono?
In which Lilly gets flustered, Molly gets bossy and Sherlock gets tea.
The dream was very odd but quite fascinating. Lilly was in the dark and it was bitterly cold. Then it was light and she was warm, oh so warm. The man was puzzling to her as he seemed both cold and warm simultaneously. But safe. He made her feel sheltered. He picked her up and she wrapped her legs around his narrow waist, her arms around his neck as he enveloped her within his coat, pressing her body tightly against his. She had the awareness of being wrapped around him, cuddling into him, inhaling his scent, his soft hair curling around her fingers. Oh it was lovely. One part of Lilly, namely her brain, understood this was a dream, another part, her body, most specifically the parts of her body most in contact with the heat coming of the man really didn't care, not wanting the sensation of physical contact to end. She heard a moan come from nearby, and in that strange way of dreams, she understood it had come from her; she woke with a start to find the man from the dream looming over her. Realizing the thought that had produced the moan, Lilly blushed in her embarrassment, but he did not seem to have noticed, thank goodness.
"Good. You are awake. There are questions that I must have the answers to." His voice was brisk and business like. He gestured at the bed, "May I sit?"
The mattress dipped as he sat on the edge of it facing the headboard so he could watch her face. Lilly couldn't take her eyes off him. He was quite possibly the most interesting looking man she had ever seen. He was actually much more attractive in the flesh than in the dream, with his pale skin, dark slightly too long curls and those blue eyes. Or were they green, it was hard to tell in this light. Lilly felt that she was staring, so she dropped her gaze. Unfortunately, it landed on the same narrow waist from the dream that she had been so enjoying, which startled her and began a new blush creeping across her cheeks as she tried to settle her gaze on something safe, like his left ear lobe.
The rich baritone of his voice vibrated through the mattress, interfering with her thoughts of how nicely shaped his ear was actually. "Are you alright? You appear to still be a bit dazed. I need you to focus, Lady Lillian…"
"Lilly. Please call me Lilly." She said, interrupting him, and then added, "Oh dear, I seem to have forgotten your name… I believe you have told it to me, perhaps more than once, but my mind seems a bit fuzzy."
"It's Sherlock." An abrupt voice came from the doorway. Lilly looked over to see a petite woman standing there looking in at them with a look that could be irritation or jealousy, or both. Lilly sighed inwardly; of course, she must be his wife or something. The first time in so long, well actually ever, she found herself really physically attracted to a man and he would be taken. The woman walked into the room and came to a stop about 3 feet from the bed. Then she smiled at Lilly warmly and said, "I'm Molly."
"Ah, yes, forgive me…" the man named Sherlock did a mock bow of his head, then continued, "Lady Lill – um, Lilly, may I present Dr. Molly Hooper. Molly…Lilly. Now that we have the pleasantries complete, could we perhaps get down to business here?"
"Don't mind him, Lilly. He's always like this." Molly smiled at Lilly, and then turned her attention with a frown to Sherlock. "I thought you were going to get some medical supplies for me? I need to assess Lilly's injuries."
"Yet, I must go out shortly, and it is essential to have some answers before I do. So, questions, then assessment, agreed?" Sherlock scowled at her.
"Agreed, get your answers, but make it quick, after that find me some of John's gear, followed by preparing some tea and toast for Lilly. After that you can go out." Molly sassed back at him. Lilly was finding the interplay quite interesting. Yes, interesting but tiring. Throughout all this back and forth, Lilly continued just lying there with her head on the pillow that smelled like Sherlock. Her head was still throbbing and she didn't think she could sit up without getting giddy. Mostly though, she thought she rather liked Dr. Molly.
Sherlock turned his attention away from Molly and focused it completely on Lilly once again, rattling off questions rapid fire at her. "Who knew your plans for the day? Your schedule, timeframes, etc. Does your driver have a regular place that he goes to wait for you? Don't answer that, of course he does. Who is aware of his normal movements? What possible relevance does Reigate have, aside from being your mother's burial site?" At those words, Molly stepped forward and laid her hand on Lilly's forehead, in a comforting gesture. Sherlock continued to stare at Lilly as if to drag the answers he wanted directly from her mind and not have to wait for her to actually speak. At the reminder of the cemetery, Lilly's wits seemed to scatter. Sherlock read the anxiety in her face and decided to alter his approach. "Tell me about your family."
"Sherlock, the poor girl is in shock, can't you see that?" Molly interrupted, grabbing his arm and pulling him from the bed and out the door toward the kitchen. "As her doctor, I will have to insist that you stop badgering her for the time being. Go get me some equipment and I'll start the assessment. And don't forget the tea, heavy on the sugar."
"Fine." He grumbled, heading down the short hallway to the kitchen, and calling back over his shoulder, "but I will need my coat back." He was quite sure that he could figure out the answers he needed without Lilly anyway. He just had to get in touch with Ramona.
"Go!" Molly glared at his back before she shut the door and turned to begin checking Lilly's condition. Once she got her out of Sherlock's coat and gave some thought to how she had come to be in Sherlock's coat wearing only knickers and a bra, which she quickly put out of her head, she determined that Lilly was not in too bad of condition in spite of her ordeal.
The sedative was wearing off, Lilly was still a bit drowsy, but she was coherent, her thought process seemed to be working well and she was able to speak clearly. The biggest concern that Molly could see was the headache, which was most likely a result of the drug she had been given, but there was always the possibility of an interior head trauma. She could find no exterior damage to the head. Her body temp was near normal; her range of motion was good. Her pupils were equal and reactive. Her reflexes were good. There were abrasions on the ankles and a bit of oozing with some slight residual blood loss, but no active bleeding. She took a minute to admire Sherlock's handy work. He wasn't a half bad nurse. The bandaging was neat and careful. All things considered, Molly was glad that Lilly seemed to have escaped much physical injury. However, the ordeal she had been through would no doubt leave mental and emotional scarring.
She was just thinking about getting Lilly out of her underthings and maybe into a pair of sweatpants and a tee shirt of Sherlock's, so she could tuck her back under the covers, when the bedroom door flew open, followed by Sherlock barging in with a tray of tea and toast. Molly's mouth opened with shock. Sherlock makes tea? And toast? He was actually listening to her?
"Do please close your mouth, Molly; it is not really a good mien for you." He said as he set the tray down on the chest of drawers.
Lilly, who was sitting on the bed still in just her underthings, gasped a bit in surprise at his unexpected entrance, and tried to cover herself as much as possible with her hands. He glanced over at her and frowned slightly as if he couldn't understand what she was so obviously anxious about. It was not as if he had not been observing her attired thus all night.
"I will need your garments for analysis as soon as possible. Here are some things you can change into," he said opening a drawer and pulling out, wonder of wonders, a pair of sweatpants and a tee, tossing them in the general direction of the bed. He waited patiently, as if to assume that Lilly would just take off her knickers and bra and hand them over to him, much to her dismay and Molly's crossness. Sherlock apparently was oblivious to both. "Is there a problem?"
"Sherlock! Wait outside, please." Molly glared at him, surprised when she saw the sly smile he gave her in return, along with a wink. He had actually been teasing the both of them. A chuckle trailed over his shoulder as he went out the door. She laughed in spite of herself, "Sod off, you nutter."
"Umm," Lilly hesitated, thinking about all that she had laid on, been put in and what not and realised that all she really wanted was a good soak in the bath. "Would it be possible to have a bath? I feel a bit…"
"Oh, gosh! Of course, you would want to get cleaned up. What was I thinking?" Molly looked around the room as if expecting a bathtub to have appeared suddenly. She started to call down the hallway, but Sherlock had returned and stuck his head through the doorway. "Where is the bath?"
"It's in the next room. But, Molly, have you completely ruled out the potential of trace DNA in the unlikely event of sexual assault?" As he said this, Lilly's body became tense. It wasn't something she had even considered. She would know, wouldn't she? "You should at the very least take some swabs."
"I will. Do you have something comparable I can use?" Sherlock leant in and handed Molly a small box he had liberated from John's room. "Oh, thanks."
"I am going out soon, so before you start the bath, I must go over a few things with you, Molly. And of course you also, Lilly. You may wish to write these down, but do not lose the notes, and once I return, I will dispose of them securely, as I do not desire them to fall into the wrong hands." This statement brought a look of mystification to both Molly and Lilly's faces. What was he going on about? Sherlock then handed Molly a pen and pad of paper if she wished to take the afore mentioned notes. But of course, he spoke quickly and she knew she wouldn't be able to write that fast.
"Clearly, there are certain points in the house where you should not go. The doors are closed, locked and there shouldn't be a need in any case, but be sure to avoid them: cupboard, end of the hall, first floor; last room, very top of stairs, right side; cupboard, kitchen, right side of sink; wooden door, cellar, left side. Now about the stairs going up to John's room: avoid right side of third step, left side of sixth step. Avoid the steps going up to the loft altogether. Windows: do not attempt to open the one in my bedroom; center one in John's bedroom; the one in the kitchen or any in lounge. When I leave, I will activate some deterrents on the ground floor level as well, so you may just wish to remain on this floor. Questions? No? Excellent!" Concluding the brisk discourse, Sherlock smiled wickedly into the ensuing silence, before turning on his heel and leaving the room.
Lilly looked over at Molly and said with a tinge of awe in her voice, "That man is as mad as a bag of ferrets, isn't he?" Molly could only agree.
A/N: The title of this chapter Cui Bono, refers to a Latin phrase meaning "To whose benefit?", which suggests a hidden motive or indicates that the person or persons behind a crime may not be who it appears to be. I rather thought it fit nicely here, as this is in fact the question on Sherlock's mind as he has been composing his theories of the case.
To all the lovely people who have been following this story, thank you so much and I'd hug you all, but that would be perhaps weird and is in fact, physically impossible, but still, I would if I could.
Also, I would like to thank Scarlett for her awesome review of chapter 8, and in answer to her question of when will John be coming home: I'm fairly sure it will be in the next day or so (within the story line), he really hasn't said, but I expect him soon, and I have a feeling that he will be in for a bit of a surprise when he does finally show up.
Once again, I cannot possibly live in a vacuum. Please don't leave me in the vacuum of review-less-ness. Hoover over and review!
