The picture is full of nearly nude people, but she's fascinated by all the movement found within the lines. Each one causes her eye to shift throughout the painting, inviting her to take a deep looker at the work of art. Bacchus and Ariadne is beautiful, she decides, especially in light of Titian's story he created within.
"What's this one about? You seem to gravitate towards it?" Molly whispers.
Knowing full well Molly is capable of reading, Cora appreciates the woman asking her questions. She appreciates that just like the painting, Molly invites conversation. In addition, she's certain the woman knows a bit more about these mythical paintings than she admits, but Cora can't quite prove that.
Turning her head slightly towards Molly, but continuing to focus on the artwork, Cora explains. "The myth says Ariadne, daughter of King Minos, flees with Theseus after saving him from the Minotaur. However, when they reach the island of Naxos, he abandons her there."
"That's so tragic," Molly comments, her gaze focused on Ariadne and Bacchus.
"It is," Cora responds. "But when Ariadne turns from the sight of her fickle lover's departing ship, that's where she makes eye contact with Bacchus, the Greek god of wine. In that moment, they fall deeply in love. The stars on the top left are said to be Ariadne's wedding crown Bacchus tossed into the air at their marriage, though, it could also signify that he turns her from mortal into a constellation so she could live forever with him."
Molly gives a tiny grin as she gazes at the painting. "That's romantic."
Cora gives a shrug. She doesn't find the idea of love at first sight very appealing, considers it a crock truth be told. Who could know someone's personality from a simple look? Who could know what secrets hide within? It's a very precarious situation to place oneself in.
"You don't find it sweet," Molly assesses.
Cora doesn't want to offend the woman in any way. She does enjoy the solace she takes in someone whose demeanor is calm and doesn't want to lose it. "Did you and John fall in love at first sight?"
Molly stiffens. "We're not…"
Wincing, Cora crosses her arms. How did she jump to that conclusion from an off-handed comment? "Sorry, I just assumed. Mr Holmes said... I am terribly sorry."
The woman fidgets with her sleeve but doesn't respond.
Strippers didn't chase her away, but that comment did. Cora gazes at the artwork, making sure to avoid all contact with Molly.
"He helps me out in the mortuary a lot," Molly whispers. "Not that he needs to. I think it's just his way of saying thank you for taking care of Rosie. Though, it is nice to have the company. But John… doesn't want Sherlock to know."
Cora's rather fascinated by the idea they're keeping it a secret from the brother. "Because…?"
"Well, you've met him, haven't you?"
She's forced to nod at that and remind herself that he's one crayon shy of an empty box.
"Also, I may have…at one time, liked Sherlock."
She can't stop her lip from lifting in semi-disgust.
"He's extremely smart and does care about the people he helps, even if he doesn't show it," Molly defends before admitting, "Quite an asshole, though."
Cora gives a chuckle as they move to another painting. "John's not that way."
Molly shakes her head with a smile. "Not at all. And he doesn't need to be brilliant; he is in his own way. He's funny and caring." She looks away as her cheeks redden. "It's just nice to be around someone who's kind, and doesn't look like Sherlock."
Cora smiles until her last comment when her brow quirks.
"I was still trying to get over him," she admits. "Didn't help that his sister forced him to tell me he loved me."
"Sister?" Cora questions, taking a deep breath before letting loose a sigh. "There's another?"
Molly looks as if Cora's picked up on the wrong topic of everything she's just stated, but gives a nod anyway. "Yes. She's apparently smarter than either of them and far more dangerous."
She wants to ask another question because she's curious why she's never seen that sibling—and relieved, to be honest. However, she's just realised why Molly gave her the look she did. "You were humiliated by the I love you?"
Looking at the picture of the dying flowers, she nods. "It hadn't been a good day, made worse by the fact Mrs Hudson was watching Rosie. Taking care of someone else would have helped the situation, but… Sherlock rang, and rang again. When I answered, he kept telling me to tell him I love him. Tells me it's for a case. An…experiment."
"What?" Cora questions with a laugh, and then clears her throat. "Sorry, I just… How does someone justify that behaviour? Forcing you to say what's supposed to be a meaningful phrase?"
"When all was said and done, I was told the sister was going to kill me if I didn't say. Come to find out, he lost. The damage was done."
She crosses her arms. "Yet, you still interact with him?"
"It's been nearly two years," Molly says. "Had you met me right after it happened… I didn't speak to him for a year. I just busied myself with work and taking care of Rosie for John. Time heals wounds. There might be scars, but the pain doesn't have to be permanent. It's better this way. It's been good for me."
They continue through the gallery, where Molly pauses at a picture of Venus and Mars by Botticelli. Cora's rather amused by the way Mars is passed out in the midst of fawns causing havoc. What sets a partial smile on her face is Venus looking as if she cares not what the troublemakers do to her sleeping companion.
"They're lovers in the myths," Molly says, confirming Cora's suspicions that she knows mythology. "I love how Mars is asleep and unarmed with Venus being awake and alert. That meaning of love conquers all is important."
Cora doesn't immediately respond. Honestly, she's not sure she believes in such things. People say cliché phrases all the time to make themselves feel better. However, they're also not exposed to some of the things she's witnessed.
All the same, she's confused how Molly can still be so hopeful. She's had her heart dragged through the mud, and yet, still remains hopeful and optimistic. How can Molly consider what happened to her positive?
Cora turns to her. "You consider it a good thing?"
Molly's quiet for several moments. It was a difficult question, but the question itself doesn't seem to be the issue. It seems to be the response. When Molly finally answers, it's something Cora doesn't expect. "You don't think time heals all wounds?"
"Did I say that?"
"You asked me if I considered what happened a good thing. I do, but you don't."
Cora crosses her arms. She can't seem to grasp the point Molly is trying to make. "I can forgive people, I do, but something that deep… How can you be so forgiving over something so painful?"
"I said I didn't speak to Sherlock for a full year. It is extremely painful to have your heart toyed with and yanked around. It's never easy. It's not something I enjoyed. There were a lot of moments full of tears. This didn't happen overnight," Molly patiently explains.
In that moment, Cora decides she truly likes Molly. She is strong and gentle. She isn't overbearing like Genevieve, and it's just the thing she needs after everything.
Cora rubs the back of her neck and looks at Molly. "You are a Venus among many Mars."
The woman laughs, but Cora wishes she could be like her.
R҉͕̣e̢̙̦̗̮̮͈̞p̶͕̞͚̻̣͉̜e̟͙͇͎͚͞a̗̻̝͎̗t̤͚̖̙̪̫ ̲̥̪A̝̩̟͖̣̬f͕̭t̥̼͍̬̀e̹r̪͍̮͎͟ ̳̪Me̫̹͚͕̜͠
Cora doesn't want to admit she's exhausted, but she keeps jolting awake as her head drops. Despite four cups of coffee, there is no relief from the fatigue. To make matters worse, Mr Holmes is in a meeting for half the day so there's no one to stop her from falling over.
A scuff at the door causes Cora to sit up. Blinking, she watches as Sir Edwin strolls in, hands behind his back. His gaze scans the room, and for a moment Cora wonders if he's in search of Mr Holmes. When his sights finally land on her, he straightens a little. "Ms Merriman."
Rising from her chair, she inclines her head slightly. "Good…" She glances to the window and realises it's still early. "…morning, Sir Edwin."
"Mycroft's in a meeting, correct?"
She nods. "Yes, Sir."
"Come with me," he says and turns.
Grabbing her phone, Cora follows him down the hall and down a flight of steps. When she enters a waiting area, her brow rises. There's a desk with a nameplate and a door to the right of that. She's surprised to see a reception office, especially since she works in the same room as Mr Holmes.
"Jacqueline is out for today," Sir Edwin informs, tone curt. "While Mycroft is in his meeting, I need you to answer phones, tidy up this place—no cobwebs—and wash the windows."
"Aren't two of those tasks something maintenance and cleaning should take care of."
"I am not certain what you're familiar with, Ms Merriman, but around here we do assist each other." Without another word, he walks into his office and shuts the door.
"I do help Mr Holmes," she grumbles and yawns.
Cora shakes her head as she moves to the windows. Grabbing a cloth and cleaner, she works on making the wide window spotless. Again, she's surprised to find that Sir Edwin has a waiting room and Mr Holmes does not.
Why is that?
Once she finishes the windows, she busies herself with the assistant's desk. She sorts files into a neat stack, cleans off the computer and phone. The only thing she finds odd is some powdered sugar in corners of the desk. If the woman is anything like her, maybe she likes powdered sugar on her brownies or perhaps good cannoli.
As she picks up a broom and begins to sweep, Cora bites her lip. Perhaps Sir Edwin is simply a more important figure than Mycroft.
That thought, however, is not something she entirely believes.
"You don't appear to be maintenance."
Turning, Cora sees a man leaning against the doorframe, dark eyes observe her as she sweeps the hardwood floor. She stiffens and rolls her shoulders back. A quick glance lets her know he's someone important. Mainly because he's dressed in a three-piece suit just like every other government man in the building.
"May I help you?" Cora questions as he makes his way towards her.
"Where's Jacqueline?"
"Out sick." Cora studies at his square-ish face and chestnut coloured hair. He's not in the binder.
"Again?" Chuckling, the man shakes his head. "Probably not the best day for you, then."
Her grip on the broom tightens. "I enjoy cleaning, so it isn't horrendous."
"Where'd my father dig you up?" His gaze looks her up and down, a soft smile in his eyes. "You're not the help."
Father? Blinking, Cora finds she doesn't like this revelation. Is this entire building mainly family members?
Taking a step closer, he holds out his hand. "Sorry, perhaps I should introduce myself first. Alexander Cunningham."
Wiping her hand on her skirt before shaking his hand, she wonders if he's anything like his curt father. "Cora Merriman."
"Ah, Holmes new assistant he keeps tabs on," Alexander says with a smile. "Doesn't allow you to go very far, does he?"
Her brow furrows. "What makes you say that?"
"Well, the last one turned on him."
Cora doesn't make any movement despite being utterly shocked to find out the mysterious Anthea apparently betrayed Mr Holmes. However, it does make sense that the brother is so suspicious of her.
He's simply protecting family.
Which is what John hinted at, after all.
In addition, maybe that's why Sir Edwin has been anything but pleasant.
Luckily, she doesn't have to respond because her phone begins to buzz. For once, she's grateful that Mr Holmes is calling. She hits the green button and presses it to her ear. "Yes, Sir?"
"Where are you?"
She can hear the annoyance in his tone, which immediately sets her on edge. She doesn't want him upset, especially when it's not her fault. "Sir Edwin's office. I'll be there in a moment."
"Do your best to hurry."
She doesn't need to hit the red button, since he hangs up on her. Looking at Sir Edwin's son, she gives a slight nod. "It was a pleasure meeting you, Mr Cunningham—"
"Alex, please." He smiles, and she's certain it would charm most other women since it is a lovely smile.
"Alex," she corrects. "Have a pleasant day."
Without another look, Cora moves past him and towards the door.
"Would you be averse to a drink?"
Pausing, she looks over her shoulder. "Excuse me?"
"A drink," he repeats and walks to her. Slowly, he removes the broom still in her grip. "I know how stressful Whitehall can be, and I was wondering if maybe you'd enjoy a drink."
Alex flashes that grin again, and Cora finds herself unable to say a word. What's more is a yawn is trying to creep up her throat which she doesn't want it to win. In any case, it is a charming grin, and he's exceedingly polite. Plus, she has heard a moment of humour in him.
Maybe this will get Genevieve off my case, she thinks and it's why when he hands her his phone, she puts in her number without another word. Without a word, she quickly makes her way to Mr Holmes office with that smile spinning round and round in her head.
Cora pauses in the doorway and looks to Mr Holmes behind the desk. His dark gaze rises from his laptop to meet hers.
"Why?"
His tone with her is curt and she tenses. "Jacqueline called out."
He rolls his eyes. "Of course, she did. It's payday and her dealer has been waiting. Why Edwin hired that smackhead is beyond me. Snorts everything she earns."
Her eyes widen slightly before she swallows roughly and approaches the desk. Taking a seat, Cora bites the inside of her cheek as she wonders if she should say something about Anthea.
"It's easier if you speak your questions aloud," Mr Holmes comments, voice warming to her again. "Sometimes even I struggle with being a telepath."
A half smile creeps onto her face, and she hopes maybe his mood is lightening. "Sir Edwin's son says you don't allow me to go very far from you because you want to keep a close watch on me."
"At this point, Ms Merriman, I'm curious to know if you know what the word question means." His gaze shifts back to the laptop screen.
The light-hearted tone in his voice puts her at ease. She leans back in the chair and taps the armrest. "He said Anthea turned on you. Do you fear I'll do the same?"
Mr Holmes looks up from his laptop, closing it, and focuses his attention completely on her. "Everyone is different."
"You've already proven everyone has a price tag."
"Have I, Ms Merriman?"
Hasn't he? she wonders. I am here.
Cora's head tilts to the side as she crosses her legs. With her elbow on the rest, her hand reaches up and catches her chin.
"You're confused."
Her lips purse to the right as she weighs her replies. She could tell him no and explain what she means. She could change the subject. She could even possibly leave. However, there's another answer, and she tries not to smile through it.
"I'm always confused in this place."
Her comment earns her a rare grin.
