Sherlock walked along, feeling more like an idiot with each passing moment. Here he was, strolling along beside Molly and her shopping trolley, having very little to say as she gradually picked out all the things she needed and set them inside. Thankfully there wasn't a large amount she needed to buy. He was desperately trying to decide what he'd do when the shopping trip was done. He glanced at his watch, but apparently not covertly enough.
"Sorry, am I taking too long?" she asked.
"No no!" he answered quickly. "I was just um, seeing how late it was. In case we needed to do anything after this." In case we need to do anything? Sherlock asked himself. Just tell her!
"If there's anything you need to do, that's fine. We can run another errand," Molly offered while tossing a box of biscuits in the cart.
Sherlock was momentarily distracted by the biscuits. "You like that chocolate kind with nuts too?"
"Oh no," Molly answered quickly, but then winced when she realized she'd have to explain herself.
"Then…why are you buying them?"
"Well um…" She glanced at him shyly. "I know Mrs. Hudson buys these for you so I just thought I'd keep some at my flat too. You know, if you need to stop by or stay over or anything."
Sherlock had the sudden and overwhelming urge to throw her up against the grocery shelf and kiss her…he blinked a few times and then tugged his scarf off, throwing it into the cart.
"That's um, good…that's good. Thank you," he said, more awkwardly than he wanted.
"No problem," she squeaked out.
About twenty minutes later, Molly and Sherlock exited the grocery store, Molly with her the few small bags hooked on her arms.
"So, it's really only a short walk home for me from here. I can just walk back and you can get a cab for yourself. Thanks for the ride from Bart's though," Molly said with a grateful smile.
"Wait!" Sherlock blurted out desperately.
"What?"
"I- I should probably walk with you to your flat," he said, hoping this would buy him enough time to get the right words out.
Molly glanced around and then back at him. "Well, there's plenty of people around. The streets are still pretty busy. I think I'll be fine. Besides, Mary taught me a few little moves," she said with a proud little smile.
"It'll also cut my cab fare," Sherlock added quickly, congratulating himself for quick thinking. "I'll be closer to Baker Street if I catch a cab on your street."
"Oh." Molly nodded, though also wondered when Sherlock had become so conscientiously frugal. "Ok, if you'd like."
They strolled along the London streets in the chilly air, each of them now carrying a couple of bags, and Sherlock wondered how it was possible that this felt so right. How did it feel so right already? This wasn't really a date. Did this count as part of his experiment?
"Where's your scarf?" he asked, seeing her pale neck peeking out the collar of her jacket. "That stripy one?"
"Oh I left that at home today. Stupid me, I forgot I'd be walking home with groceries!" She laughed at herself.
Sherlock pulled his scarf off for the second time and looped it around Molly's neck in the usual fashion, barely giving her time to react before he was already done.
"No, that's all right! You'll be cold," she objected, her hand poised at the luxurious knit, ready to pull it off.
"You can give it back when we reach your flat," he said, his tone leaving no room for argument as he kept his gaze straight ahead.
"Um…ok," Molly said very quietly. "Thanks."
Sherlock smiled secretly as he noticed how she bent her head down ever so slightly in order to smell the scarf and then her eyes drifted closed as if in momentary bliss.
Earlier awkwardness became quickly forgotten when Molly brought up his latest case. They spend a few minutes laughing as Sherlock described his hunt through back alleys and trash bins when he needed to find that cat some weeks ago. Molly then took a turn talking and told him about how she was pretty sure Scott could recognize most of the letters of the alphabet by sight now. They talked with surprising ease, and were both silently sorry when they rounded a corner and arrived at Molly's building.
"Well thanks," Molly said brightly. "It was nice to have the company. I hope this helped with the boredom, but I'm afraid this was a terribly boring outing. Not exactly a murder investigation!"
Sherlock let out a low chuckle. "I suppose it wasn't," he said quietly. Surprising, given how badly he didn't want it to end.
"I'd better um, get these things upstairs." She tucked some stray strands of hair behind her ear and rocked on her heels a bit, clearly trying to say good evening. "I'll see you later." Molly took the bags he held and turned to go.
"Right, of course," Sherlock said quickly, but he was panicking once again as she turned to go. "Molly, wait!"
She turned back toward him and frowned, looking confused. It was obvious that she was beginning to see a pattern.
"Look, Sherlock, I kind of need to get this food upstairs. And I need to feed Toby," Molly said as she set the bags down and crossed her arms around her middle. She was becoming a bit less tolerant of his mysterious neediness today. "I feel like there's something you want but you're not telling me. Why don't you just let me know what you're getting at and I'm sure we'll both feel much better."
"Well you could go feed Toby and bring the groceries in first!" he offered, looking like he'd just come up with a winning solution. "You wouldn't be busy after that would you?"
Molly laughed and crossed her arms. "Sherlock, what is going on? Why are you trying to keep me with you?"
"Because, Molly, I need to!" Sherlock was running out of alternate excuses and he knew he was getting backed into a corner.
"But, what for?" she pressed.
"Because I'm trying to figure out if I'm falling in love with you!" he blurted out, much louder than he'd planned.
Molly's laughter and smile instantly melted off her face and was replaced with a look of pure shock. That expression remained as she read him, and realized that he definitely wasn't joking. Sherlock pressed his lips together and stuck his hands in his pockets, looking down at the pavement for a moment.
"And?" Molly asked very softly, hoping there was more to it.
Sherlock looked back at her, a little nervously before letting out a sigh. "And I was planning to…ask you out…on a date."
Molly took a step closer. "No, I mean, you said you were trying to figure it out. So…did you?" She peered up at him, wishing to read him and wanting to devour every word she could make out.
There he was, standing on a street and looking down at Molly Hooper, suddenly faced with the big question. In a way, he'd done what he originally wanted to. He spent time with her and only her. And as he'd noted earlier, it felt so right and so comfortable. It was like slipping his dressing gown on after a bath. There were no cases, or bodies, or samples to be analyzed, or even Scott to look after…but still. When he took everything else away, all the other things they usually shared, it still felt just right in all those strange and sometimes unnerving ways.
And there was the answer. Molly Hooper, all by herself, was more than enough.
Without warning, Sherlock cradled her face and leaned down, very gently pressing his lips to hers. He could feel her jump in surprise ever so slightly as he did it, but a split second later she relaxed and he felt her leaning into him, returning the soft pressure with her own lips.
She pulled back and looked at him wide eyed, obviously in a bit of shock…perhaps more than before.
"Does that answer your question?" Sherlock whispered, the ghost of a smile on his slightly rosy lips.
Molly just stared at him agape and silent, which prompted Sherlock to remove his hands from her face. Perhaps this wasn't the reaction he'd dreamed of. He cleared his throat and took one step back, giving her some space.
"W-what are you doing, Sherlock?" she asked in a whisper while briefly touching her lips, as if she were unsure of what they'd just experienced. "Is this some kind of, I don't know…extreme form of manipulation? And you're trying to get me to do something?"
"Of course not," Sherlock said with an injured expression, though he knew full well that she was within her rights to question him. He saw a brief flicker of hope in her eyes, but she held back, instead voicing another concern.
"Wait, what about Scott?" Molly asked.
"What about him?"
"Is this about him? I mean, are you trying to make sure I stay around to help you? I told you I'd help with him and I meant it. I wasn't including any time limit either!" She was beginning to talk rapidly and Sherlock could see that her eyes were filling. "It's ok! I- if I have to send him off to university with you and then go home alone to my flat and my cat-"
"Forget Scott!" Sherlock said forcefully.
Molly frowned.
Sherlock sighed and then spoke again in a more controlled voice. "Sorry, I didn't mean that literally. I just meant…this has nothing to do with him, not really. This is about you and me. And if there was no Scott, well…" He paused and ran fingers through his curls. "I would still want this."
Molly pressed a hand to her mouth and she gulped back the tears that were quickly accumulating and getting ready to overflow. "That goodbye letter?" she asked. "When you said you wanted more, you really meant…"
Sherlock nodded. "Obviously it was something I put aside again once I returned to London. I admit that recent events with my nephew were what forced me to think more seriously about…feelings. I suppose now I can only hope that I haven't possibly waited a bit too long," he said, tentatively taking a step back toward her.
Molly wiped at her eyes. "There's no such thing," she said with a fresh sob. "If I were old and grey I'd still be in your arms if you opened them to me."
Sherlock would have hated himself if he could have seen this scene a few years ago; would have been sure he was insane or drugged. And yet, in this moment, he quite enjoyed feeling like he was in an old film as he lifted his arms and opened them, as Molly had just described. And when she crashed into him and he instantly responded by closing his arms tightly around her, there was no better feeling in the world. He may have been the one holding her in a warm embrace, but Sherlock realized that he had never felt warmer and safer…and more at home.
Something constricted in Sherlock's chest, and it had nothing to do with Molly's hold on him. It made him clench his jaw and suck in a breath. His heart pounded and felt like it might explode or implode or maybe just double in size and burst from the confines of his ribs. And he finally came to grips with the complexity of the love that had grown for Molly Hooper. There was no mutual exclusivity of his feelings for her as a woman, and her role in the life of his nephew. It was all wrapped up together. The fact that her love for Scott made his heart swell didn't invalidate the fact that he wished he could kiss her till he ran out of breath. It was all love; so simple and yet so mind bogglingly complex.
As he was wrapping his mind around this revelation, Molly spoke again. "When did you say you were picking Scott?"
Sherlock raised an eyebrow at the seeming change of topic. "Day after tomorrow. Why?"
"Well, that means you have all of tomorrow free…and I don't have to work tomorrow…" She lifted her head and peered up at him while biting her lip, which made Sherlock smirk. "And you did just say you were going to ask me out, you know…on a date." Molly grinned, blushing in the evening light.
Sherlock chuckled. "I did say that, didn't I?" He brought a hand up and brushed away a little of her hair. Then he shrugged and feigned indifference. "Not that there's any need to ask now."
Molly glared at him playfully. "I don't know about that! How do you know what my answer would be?"
"Oh, you know me, Molly." He leaned down and touched his forehead to hers again as he murmured softly. "I can employ my expert skills of deduction using available clues. Such as…you're hanging all over me right now."
Molly swatted at his chest but couldn't help returning the smile he gave her. She knew she was transparent, maybe especially to him, but for the first time she couldn't care less. She was more than happy to put herself out there, because the fear had suddenly been removed.
"Maybe I'd like you to ask me all the same," Molly whispered and raised her brows in anticipation. She had to hold back a giggle when he suddenly looked a little nervous again.
Sherlock swallowed hard. "All right. Well then, Molly, would you like to…" He paused to clear his throat. "Go out with me tomorrow?"
Molly nodded while grinning. "More than anything, yes." She moved her arms from around his middle to around his neck. "So…what would you like to do?"
Sherlock's expression became serious, in a way that was endearing to the woman he looked down at. "Everything, Molly," he said in a whisper. "Everything and nothing and just…life. I just want you in my life."
She blushed and had to look away momentarily from the weight of his gaze. "I know you're not terribly experienced in the area of dating, so I should probably tell you that sounds like a bit more than a date." Her eyes sparkled pleasantly as she looked back at him.
Sherlock pursed his lips. "Perhaps it is. So…what do you say?"
Molly's smile blossomed again as she made ready to pull him down again for another kiss as she answered.
"I'm in."
Mary yawned as she woke up and opened her eyes. She noticed it was getting light out and glanced at the bedside alarm. She smiled to herself as she realized that it was past six am and Lizzie hadn't woken all night! When she turned over, she saw that John was just beginning to wake as well.
"When did you get in?" she asked.
John rubbed his eyes. "It was gone one. You and Lizzie were fast asleep so I didn't want to wake anyone."
"Case go well then?"
"Mm. Pretty well, yeah. It did involve a trip to Bart's though." John made a humorous face a chuckled.
Mary giggled. "Ooh, how fun! The lovebirds got to see each other I take it."
John shook his head. "It's still hard to get used to, Mary. It's so strange. They're just..." he raised his hands and let them fall on the bed again, unable to grasp the words.
"They're in love," Mary said with a happy smile. "I think it's amazing."
"I'm thrilled for them, don't get me wrong! But let me tell you, it gets a little uncomfortable sometimes." John's eyes got wide, making Mary laugh out loud. "Sherlock certainly doesn't care about anyone else's embarrassment, so he has no qualms about snogging Molly in front of me or anybody else, though Molly seems to be embarrassed enough for the both of them. I've started letting him pop into the morgue or the lab a few minutes before I follow him in. And I also make sure to announce my presence!"
"Good for them," Mary said with a contented sigh. "I'm glad they're so happy."
"It's only been a few weeks. But yeah, it does seem like this is a sure thing. They're just so good together. And Scott seems so happy with them, which is great for the little guy. It all seems rather picture perfect, doesn't it?"
"Yeah," Mary said, snuggling into her husband's arm. "It does."
He couldn't see the look on her face and how her smile fell a bit. She was happy, and her life was lovely now. But Mary Watson knew that picture perfect was usually an illusion. She was a bit jaded by the realities that life, and even her own decisions, had handed her. The idea that things looked so perfect for the life that Sherlock and Molly were building naturally made her nervous.
It made her wonder what was lurking around the corner…
Mrs. Holmes came padding down the stairs as she wrapped the robe around her and tied the sash around her middle. She peered out the side window by the front door and smiled in relief at the face of her eldest son.
"Mike, it's early!" she chastised while giving him a hug as he stepped inside. "You could have called!"
"Forgive me, Mummy. I only just arrived back in town," he said with a little sigh.
Mrs. Holmes took one more look at her son and placed a hand on his shoulder. "Darling, you look absolutely exhausted. You didn't have to come straight over here if you'd just got home. You've been away for nearly a couple of months! You should have had some rest before making visits."
The poor man's face was rather somber. "To be quite honest, there isn't much time for rest right now. I haven't been able to stay in touch while away, but now that I'm back…" He took his mother's hand off his shoulder and held it firmly. "I need to speak to you and Dad. And after I leave here, I'll need to stop by and have a visit with Sherlock."
Mrs. Holmes felt a chill go through her as she took in her son's demeanor and expression. She knew him, and she knew the kind of implication that words like those could have.
"You'd better come sit down," she said softly, but with an equally serious expression. "I'll go get your father up."
"Mummy?" he asked as she started back up the stairs. "Is Scott here right now, or with Sherlock in London?"
"With Sherlock. Why?"
Mycroft took a breath and let it out slowly as he looked up the stairs at his perceptive and therefore already concerned mother. He knew that his answer would only add to that concern, but it certainly wasn't the time to hold anything back anymore.
"Scott will need to be staying here for a while."
