Look who finally updated, I know it's been a while, longer than normal anyway. I've been stuck in writer's block for far too long, so I hope this chapter turned out well. Thanks for the reviews, follows, and favorites.
Sherlock placed the laptop on his knees, continuing to get as much information as he possibly could on the charity event tomorrow. He could hear John, Mary, and Molly speaking with one another as his eyes scanned an article. However, the brunette's voice seemed to be the only one distracting him from working, causing him to reread a few sentences every now and again.
In mild-temperament the detective tried blocking all sounds while busy and it normally succeeded but not today. It had been a long night, no sleep came which somehow prompted him to call John over at three in the morning and lead him to disclosing his feelings towards Molly. Perhaps if he instead stepped out for a while, to breath in the cold night air in order to further dispel his racing thoughts, things would be different.
His hands paused while typing on the keyboard, mind wandering yet again. It wasn't rare for him to stop and ponder on a thought, but losing his concentration, veering off track of where or what exactly he was thinking when on an important lead, that was a heedless move. And honestly, he never preferred getting distracted unless it was on something conventional or slightly on task.
Sherlock found his unconscious contemplations of Molly unwelcome ones, yet at the same time wanted them to keep playing in his mind. Her laughter never escaped him and he couldn't remember ever being so in tuned to it before, but Sherlock could always think of some excuse to push the reason away from affection. Because having feelings for someone wasn't the same as being in love, people knew that fact but often failed to recognize it.
Molly was the one who grew fond over him throughout the years or was it right away? Perhaps he was being selfish, rude even, never saying anything about her obvious attachment towards him. She tended to downplay it though, clearly because she believed him uninterested and truthfully he was. Now it just seemed unfathomable to consider a sudden spike in attentiveness, yet it was there nagging away at him daily.
Whether it was a simple or a rare chance occurrence, both were short-lived, as were his thoughts on the matter. However, recently it started bothering him more and more as the days went on. His suspicion about knowing what exactly it was he was feeling were proven when he spent more time with her, more than he ever ventured to do in the past.
It could just be his paranoia on the subject when concerning himself, his need to link things to others when in all actuality, no string existed, merely it was one of his own crafting. Sherlock realized he couldn't pinpoint the blame on Molly, it was simply something he couldn't control. In all likelihood his feelings could return to friendship but he was also mindful of the fact that they could grow into something deeper.
"Find anything else?" John asked, tilting his head upon the inquiry. "You've been staring at the screen for a long while now," he knowingly added. Sherlock's attempt to keep himself out of conversing with Molly was apparent, but it seemed like she was the only one unaware of it. Mary already had a suspicion something was up, although she didn't say anything.
"Just doing some reading and trying to find anything else that can be useful. This would be so much simpler if we could just do things my way without Mycroft's silly regulations." He offered his words without conflict, his tone simple and smooth, as he wasn't looking for another motive to give his friend to go off about what he told him earlier.
"Those 'silly regulations' as you called them are beneficial and essential to follow, brother mine," Mycroft remarked upon entering the flat, with his normal epitome of calmness etched into his features. A light smile came when seeing the company but flattened out a moment later. "I suggest if you really want these tickets you stick to what I told you, we cannot afford having this go public. Do I make myself clear?"
"As always," Sherlock mentioned with a minor roll of his eyes. Placing the computer aside, he rose from the chair and approached the man. As he moved Toby skittered past them, rushing into another room. "He doesn't seem to like you, not surprising." Turning his attention forward again, he let out a small breath, knowing his brother was going to go off on the case.
Ignoring his comment, Mycroft went on. "I take it the three of them will be joining you, obviously John since you hardly do anything without him. I am sure you're well aware that you think you know what you're doing, but keep in mind that social events such as these have the press stationed right outside. Some of the people attending have a rather high rank in the political system and we prefer to keep them free of possible slander."
"'We' as in the British Government, Secret Service or CIA? You're going to have to be a tad more specific," the detective remarked. He didn't ask anything further on the topic, deciding too many question was never a good thing to start off with, though he had always been known to be inquisitive. "You tend to over worry about the minor details. I know what I'm doing. Thanks for stopping by and I'll take those."
Mycroft pulled the tickets away, causing him to raise a brow in minor annoyance. "Remember, Sherlock, you cannot go after the culprit yourself, I just need a name. If you, however, find yourself in a difficult position where approaching is necessary then please by all means take your actions into consideration. But I still expect you to call when you find them."
He quickly noticed the calculating look in the younger's eyes, recognizing it as he oftentimes had the look himself. His brows furrowed slightly in unspoken query, his head tilting to the side. The change in the man's posture, his words, the way he spoke, all were details he picked up on right away. Something was unmistakably taking hold of his thoughts, whatever it was it was in this room, though he opted to keep that little observation to himself.
No matter how much Sherlock hated the idea of forming attachments, it was impossible not to. In retrospect, it happened no matter where you went, whether they were friends or simply acquaintances. It would certainly behoove him to be more appreciative towards those who were willing to help him out, yet that appeared to be something the two of them shared.
"Of course, dear brother, I will endeavor to do so," he replied dryly, prior to taking hold of the tickets. He didn't give much thought on the matter because he honestly didn't feel like going on about it. Instead, a light shrug was given, presenting minor care on the subject they spoke of. "But really, you mustn't be so quick to ridicule, I've handled plenty of cases without trouble."
Leaning on his umbrella, Mycroft gave him a sort of perceptive glare. "Yet, you seem to fall prey to it rather quickly. Like I stated previously, my concern for you never diminishes, it would ease me to know you'll at least attempt to stay out of conflict instead of running straight towards it." Although not normally announced, he had the habit of worrying about him as all older siblings would of the younger.
Though his care was realized, Sherlock couldn't bring himself to comment on it. They were all having a rough couple of days, work tended to weigh heavily on Mycroft especially recently. There was a slight waver in his footing and bags under his eyes to prove that, not that the eldest would speak freely of it. In the end, it didn't matter all that much, because work was work. "Is that all? I was in the middle of something," he finally said, gesturing over with a small incline of his head.
"Yes, I can see your extending you're branch of company." Even though the other three were mostly silent during their discussion, their presence wasn't overlooked. A light sigh was let out, knowing it was about time he left. "Seeing as I have an important meeting within the hour, I should be heading out. I'm sure I don't need to remind you of our agreement a second time."
"And I'm sure I don't need to remind you where the door is," he announced a moment later. His face was kept free of emotion, not needing to give him further incentive to stay. "If our murderers are at the party, which they will be, I'll be closing this case tomorrow night. As for calling, you can expect one before the event is over." For some reason he felt inclined to add those words.
"That's all I ask," Mycroft said with a nod. He proceeded to leave the room, his umbrella shifted up so it wouldn't drag on the floor. Sherlock, more often than not, always got the job done so there was no need to burden himself with unease, nonetheless it came regardless. Once out of the flat, he took out his phone, making a quick call as he left the complex.
Sherlock turned back to the others, washing away the slight irritation hanging onto his features. With that out of the way, they could get back to conversing a few more things, although they already went over the details a few times. Despite the interruption, Sherlock wanted to return to their original topic. It was easier to keep other thoughts concerning Molly out if they were busy.
"Now, since we already discussed the plan let's hope we don't run into any problems." The detective grabbed a few things before returning to the group, handing them their ticket and another object. "Each of you will need to use one of these mobiles, not your own just in case something goes wrong, when getting in contact with one another."
"And you just so happen to have four extra ones lying around the flat?" John asked, taking it from him. He was currently sitting on the couch with his wife and Molly while Sherlock occupied his chair. Normally, he'd be sitting in his own but it was still currently out of the room and most likely placed in his old bedroom for the time being. However, he wasn't sure if it would ever be back.
"He's pretty much prepared for anything, you've told me that plenty of times," Mary mentioned, glancing over at her husband. "Besides, the two of you haven't worked on a case together for a while; you should be looking forward to doing this." The blonde looked over at him, hoping he wouldn't get so worked up.
"Are you sure you want to do this? We have to think about the baby," he mentioned, his concern taking over. "Maybe you should stay here." Though he was sure she'd reject the idea, it was placed out there anyway.
"I'm pregnant not dying from a terminal disease," she countered. "Don't worry so much. I won't be doing anything dangerous and I'll be with Molly just about the whole time once we separate." A light smile was given once he gave a nod, not going on about it any further.
"What do we do if something goes wrong?" Molly asked. She looked at Sherlock, as he was on his cell, appearing to be doing something. "Like we can't find the right people or they kill someone at the party?" Either one was a possible outcome and since she was never involved in something like this before, she was a tad apprehensive.
"Improvise. That's what John and I do on most cases anyway." The youngest Holmes shrugged it off as he was fairly confident that things would work out. "I suppose for now we can go about our day as normal and meet at the charity event tomorrow night. It would be less suspicious if we arrived separately."
The group entered the party nearly fifteen minutes ago and as expected the place was crowded with people. The husband and wife who were throwing the gathering rented out a large ballroom. Tables were placed throughout, leaving a space in the middle for those who wanted to dance. While coming through the entrance a staircase was seen, one where the couple would probably be until all the guests arrived.
As discussed, John and Mary were to stay close to the doors, checking to see how many people on the list, which was comprised of all possible culprits, came through. Once everyone was here, the army doctor would send Sherlock a quick text, informing him before joining the party and making small talk with people until further notice.
Sherlock and Molly, on the other hand, were out on the main floor doing the same thing for those who were already here. They stood near a table, one that gave them a good view of the area. His eyes scanned the space a few times over, making a mental note of who was and wasn't there. Although trying not to be so conscious of how close the brunette was to him, it was impossible not to.
As he was busy, she turned her eyes to his; to see his like they always were when on a case. They were focused and intent but at the same time he seemed to be off track. The interest and intrigue were still there, somehow conveying how fixated his attention was, and yet he was distracted. A small almost inaudible sigh escaped. Asking him would probably get her nowhere.
Sherlock paused his search upon hearing her outtake. "Everything okay?" he asked, sparing a glance in her direction. Her uneasiness was detected right away, the fiddling of her fingers, the way she bit down on her lip, and even the way she stood gave it away. No matter what he would make sure she stayed out of harm's way, the same with Mary.
"I'm fine," she said, nodding her head. "Just a little nervous about the whole thing. I've never done something like this before. I'm sure it will work out as long as everything goes according to your plan." She trusted him after all; he never gave her reason not to. Molly felt safe being with him. "If I had to guess, I'd say the people we're looking for would have arrived first, probably doing the same thing we are."
"That… sounds about right," he said, almost drawing out his words. "We still have some time before they close the doors and anyone here could be a target. If our murderers decided to kill their next victim here, they'd be going off of their pattern but one should always expect the unexpected." His composure was kept at its normal level, nonetheless he could feel his heartbeat grow deeper with every passing moment.
And it made him stop and think about John's words, perhaps things could be better, that happiness, though very near difficult to achieve, wasn't impossible. But if he were to suddenly express his feelings, not only would it be uncharacteristic it would also be badly timed. Turing his head in another direction, struggling to keep his mind off of her, he spotted a familiar face. "Oh, you've got to be kidding."
"Something wrong?" Upon his vexed announcement, Molly faced him prior to following his gaze. "I didn't know Greg would be here, I thought only people who were in certain families were allowed in, besides us of course." The eldest Holmes simply had to call in a favor to get them inside.
"Stay here," Sherlock instructed, walking away before she could say anything in rebuttal. Slipping past a few guests, he approached the man with a rather irritated look on his face. "What are you doing here?"
"I got an invitation and I decided to stop by," he replied with a light shrug. Lestrade tilted his head slightly, acting nonchalant about the whole thing; although he pretty much figured the detective wasn't happy to see at the moment. "I'm assuming you're here for another reason though, the usual if I had to guess. Are you working on a case?"
A heavy breath was released. "I'm waiting for an explanation. Why are you here?" By all means, Sherlock already knew the correct answer to the question but he was also aware that he would avoid giving it to him.
"I told you, I was invited," Greg repeated before taking a sip of the drink he held in his hand. Whether Sherlock liked it or not, he had incentive to be here tonight, doing his job, so to speak. It's been a while since he received such a task, though it wasn't completely unexpected.
"This is Mycroft isn't it? One mention of a possible problem and he's sending you here to check up on me, as if I need to be watched over." Rolling his eyes, Sherlock ran a hand through his hair. "Since my brother thinks you are necessary, I can't rightfully turn you away, although I do resent the fact. And in the meantime, as I know you will continue to deny his involvement, I suggest you maintain a watchful eye."
"So, you have the feeling something's going to happen then?" Greg asked. It was the perfect setting to commit a crime. Hundreds of people were around and a minimal offense would go unnoticed. At the same time, a multitude of citizens made it a perfect opportunity for a bigger act of misconduct to unfold. He hoped it wouldn't be the latter.
"I don't get feelings, I just know. Have your gun ready, something's about to go down tonight," Sherlock simply mentioned, providing little information, as he walked away. He knew Lestrade could handle himself just fine, besides that wasn't his main concern right now. As he returned to Molly, his phone vibrated. "Looks like everyone is here," he told her, scanning through the text then making a quick reply.
"What do we do now?" she asked, looking around for a moment. "Should we talk to some of them or just wait?" The brunette was aware how Sherlock was never one for social gatherings, as he simply looked, and probably felt, out of place.
"We have about twenty minutes before the host will thank everyone for coming and for donating their money. I suspect they are the possible targets considering everything. Just by looking at the décor, you can tell this wasn't an inexpensive thing to set up, even for someone of high stature," the detective explained. "As for what we should do, besides standing here waiting for John to send another message, I suggest a dance."
"Dance?" Molly asked almost bemused. She certainly wasn't expected him to say that, then again he managed to surprise her every so often. Of course, she couldn't deny the request no matter what the reason. When he extended his hand, she hesitated slightly before taking it, reminding herself it probably didn't mean anything. It couldn't be taken as something more.
"It's better than starting mild chatter with other people and we'll have a better view in the middle of the room opposed to where we are. Besides, since you're not getting married, I have no other incentive." Although he was a bit tentative being so close to her, he thought it wouldn't be a bad thing to not care about his confusion right now.
Once in the middle of the room, surrounded by other already moving to the soft tune playing in the background, he kept his fingers locked with hers, while his right arm rested on her back. He waited for her to place digits on his upper shoulder before leading. Sherlock rather enjoyed the activity, so it wasn't extremely difficult to keep himself relaxed.
The minor amount of tension the brunette felt eased ever so slightly at the sight of him, from the way his gaze seemed to soften the moment it met hers. A smile, though a bit weak at first, seemed to somehow find its way on his face. This was Sherlock Holmes, someone she'd known almost all her life, though she often wondered if she knew him at all. Moments like these, when he showed how kind he could be or merely how easy it was to be in his company, she thought she might, but there were few things Molly was sure of anymore.
"I guess I shouldn't be surprised that you dance so well," she said, keeping her tone light, as if speaking too loud would ruin the atmosphere. She could still see it though, the silent tread of unease and maybe something else she couldn't quite place. And despite her want to settle whatever was bothering him, Molly stopped herself. Still, a sad smile touched her lips and she wished so badly that she could do something about it.
"I was always rather fond of it," he replied back. Sherlock felt compelled to go on talking about the case but at the same time didn't want to. There was just something about being close to her, making contact without pulling away that made things more clear. His feelings for her were there and they didn't seem to be going away anytime soon.
Letting silence settle between them, Molly glanced away, although still kept a constant motion. She knew nothing was really different between them after all this time but she could see the smallest change in his eyes. She could tell how hard it was for Sherlock to speak about anything he felt, always having to act as if he was incapable of affection or friendship. And once again, she felt her heart flood with warmth, compassion for the man who'd grown up far too fast, despite his common display of almost childish mannerism.
Sherlock took a small breath, almost annoyed at himself for feeling this way towards her. Yet, it seemed as if nothing would quell his growing affection. Looking at her, he wondered if he should listen to John and say something. There were so many reasons why he shouldn't though. He wasn't good at letting people in and it was hard knocking down all the walls he placed.
Regardless, he pursed his lips for moment before initial deciding to speak. "You were right you know, something has been bothering me lately," the detective told her, in an almost withdrawn voice, causing Molly to look at him. He stopped there, not knowing how else to put it without outright confessing. It wasn't easy though, keeping everything inside.
Molly tilted her head a bit. She already knew, for she could read the pained look in his eyes, no matter how hard he tried to conceal it. He was never any good at hiding things, not from her. And it hurt to know that he would try anyway, whether it was for her sake or not. "You don't have to tell me, but you already know I'll listen if you need me to."
"You always do," Sherlock said with a small chuckle. "I wasn't certain at first about something but now I'm pretty sure I know what it means. You probably wouldn't take it very seriously considering it's so unlike me in the first place. Ridiculous to even consider." His paced slowed a little, all his uncertainty boiled up, causing a tightening feeling to swell within his chest.
"What do you mean?" she questioned, voice low and full of concern. If only he could see what she saw, a man who was so distinctly good, loyal, wonderful, even if he couldn't find those attributes on the surface. There were so many things he didn't believe himself to be and yet she saw every one of them. All those words were just an echo of things she couldn't bring herself to say.
"We've known each other for a long time, haven't we? I admit, I haven't exactly treated you like I should have and no, it's not okay." He knew she was going to say it was fine but it wasn't. How could it be? When Molly said she didn't count, it threw him off a bit. He never actually realized she felt that way. Even if the impression was evident, it was never meant. "You've always been there, even if I didn't tend to notice."
It sounded out of place, but it was the truth. Honestly, looking back, he did feel bad for the way he acted towards her. Never asking and always expecting her to drop everything to help. It didn't matter how willing she was to lend a hand. Guilt was a cruel thing; it ate away at you in your most vulnerable moments, tormenting you until you just had to apologize. The word sorry was thrown between them too often though.
"That's because I-" The brunette stopped herself. She couldn't go off about how she felt, not now when he was trying to tell her something. It was strange to see him act so openly when lately all he's been is closed off. "You don't need to make up for anything," she told him, the grip on his shoulder loosening slightly. "You're very important to me. Not many people say nice things about you but I know you're a good person."
It took him forever to realize the truth in what she just said. He never thought much about good or bad, he was just Sherlock Holmes. He was constantly able to think straight, to be the logical one, and he was always reasonable. His voice stayed low, gaze still averted. "You say that as if you know all the bad I did in the past. You've done more for me than I can thank you for. You saved my life." In a sense she did. Not just by helping him fake his death but from himself.
Molly leaned her head against his shoulder, an action she did without really thinking about what she was doing. It was like she couldn't have enough contact, as if she had to make sure he was really here with her because she didn't want him to slip away and leave, not again. She felt his body relax at the touch and her smile was no longer seemed forced or hard to uphold. Being with him just made her happy.
"I don't know about that," she admitted in spite of herself. "I can hardly hold anything against you after everything you've been doing for me lately." This was true in many aspects. He didn't have to let her stay with him, ask for her help on cases, or even be as nice as he's been since he got back. The transition he made was amazing though.
"You were the only person Moriarty overlooked," Sherlock mentioned as he had before. It was obvious to him why Jim disregarded her. Sherlock never acted like he cared for her and was downright rude towards her upon their first meeting. During his pause, he watched as she lifted up her head, making eye contact. "He didn't think you mattered at all to me when actually, it's quite the opposite."
Another break was taken, it was now or never. A few racing thoughts ran through his mind, affecting his ability to continue. Telling her could cause more problems than keeping his feeling a secret but, then again, he was conscious of how she felt about him. If he did reveal anything, Molly would never brush him aside. Pushing every reeling thought back, he once again opened his mouth to speak.
Yay for progress! The only question remaining now is if Sherlock will actually tell her or maybe he'll get interrupted. Not sure which one I'll end up doing. Please review and let me know what you thought.
