A/N: Hello there everyone! Here I am, with this super long chapter! I think I always say that it's important, but... I think that's what happens when you're trying to avoid fillers.
Anyways, I want to answer your REVIEWS, before we get to it.
Marianagmt: I'm really happy that you enjoy my story! I've spent a lot of time thinking about Victoria's personality, because I didn't want her to be this genius, who just sweeps Sherlock away from his feet. Just like you said -it's not very realistic. I'm glad that I've managed to do it quite alright! :) Also, you wanted to see more 'blending'. Well, here it goes! :) I hope you'll enjoy it.
Gilyflower: There's no Anderson in this chapter, but you're totally right! He seems like someone, who would become the greatest shipper of this relationship. I honestly think he'll show up some other time, just to get excited and create some interesting 'theories' that will haunt Victoria for a long time. Thanks for reading and I hope you'll enjoy the chapter! :)
SpirouFr: You're welcome :)
Also, guys! Please don't skip my note at the end. I want to make something clear, but I don't want to spoil the chapter for you beforehand :) Enjoy!
The day was beautiful. Victoria learned to cherish every single moment of sunshine and warmth, because it didn't happen often in the UK. Especially not during this summer, which turned out to be surprisingly gloomy. But today, on 10th of August, the weather looked promising enough to make her excited about going to work, at least for once.
She was on her way to the Yard, when Lestrade called and told her about a new case, only confirming her earlier hunch. Victoria smiled to herself and told the cabbie to change the route. It took her a lot of time to get to the scene, but even before she'd arrived, she could tell that it was going to be a difficult case. That's how it usually went with crimes that happened in such a bad neighbourhood. Drugs, gangs… None of those made things easier for the detectives.
Victoria thanked the cabbie and paid for the ride. She wasn't even surprised to see that the victim was lying in the middle of the sidewalk, as it was a pretty common sight in this area. What surprised her, was the lack of blood on the scene.
"Hey, Lestrade," she said, frowning slightly. Her gaze was focused on the victim, as she tried to decipher the cause of death. She could see that the body belonged to a young man -poor, judging by his dirty, ripped clothing. He was lying on his back, but she didn't see any signs of struggle. "How are you?"
"Oh, I'm fine. Well, definitely better than this lad over here." He pointed to the body and scowled. "It looks like he OD'd."
Victoria scanned the crime scene and her frown deepened. There were no signs of struggle, but it was a weird place to do drugs. Bad neighbourhood or not, it was still quite risky to get high in the open space. It seemed very unlikely that he would manage to get far from his drug den, and even if that really was the case, he wouldn't have fallen backwards without hurting himself.
"Or someone made him OD," she muttered to Lestrade and the DI looked at her with cautious. Victoria explained her theory to him, watching his expression change into a thoughtful one. Finally, he nodded and crouched down next to the body.
"Okay, so we cannot rule out the involvement of someone else. But why would anyone want to kill him like that? In this neighbourhood, it's a rather unnecessary effort. It feels almost personal."
"Maybe it was. We won't know until we get the autopsy results back. Maybe it wasn't an overdose," she said, lacking any conviction. "I assume we don't have any witnesses?"
"No. Our officers found the body when they were patrolling the streets," Lestrade said and sighed.
Victoria looked around, trying to find if there was another way to find out what happened, but she couldn't see any cameras. They had nothing.
"We have to find his identity. Maybe it will point us in some direction. I'll take care of it," she said and smiled at Lestrade. "You should probably go home and check if you have everything ready for John's wedding. It's tomorrow, isn't it?"
"Yes. They knew which date to pick. It finally stopped raining." Greg smiled and stood up. "Are you sure you can handle everything on your own?"
"Sure, Greg. Besides, Donovan can help me."
"You know that she dislikes you."
"I said she can help me. I didn't say she will," Victoria laughed, making Lestrade chuckle as well.
"I'll tell her to do it. The least I can do."
"Don't worry about it."
"Alright then," he said and checked his phone. "Wrap up the scene. I need to pick up my suit from the dry-cleaning."
"Don't tell me you're going in one of your work suits," Victoria almost moaned, but Lestrade seemed genuinely surprised.
"Why not? Is something wrong with them?"
He could be such a dork sometimes.
"No, Greg. It's just that I thought you would go in something… fancier."
"I'm not going to buy a new suit just for the wedding," he said and looked at her as if she had just grown a second head. "Besides, I don't think anyone will pay attention to my suit, when Sherlock is supposed to give a speech."
Victoria tried not to show her discomfort at the mention of the consulting detective. She hadn't talked to him since that night. No texts, calls, or unsuspected visits. She was actually glad that Sherlock decided to refrain from contacting her, because it certainly made things easier. At least she had no motivation to break her resolve of staying the fuck away from him. It was clear that he would never stop, until he had found her father, and she didn't want to watch that process. She didn't even want to know about it, but it was already too late for that.
"Yeah, he'll probably steal your spotlight," Victoria answered and smiled forcefully. Lestrade looked at her, trying to decide whether he should say something. Finally, he opened his mouth to speak.
"Is everything okay? I got used to seeing you with Sherlock. I was about to yell at him for stealing one of my best detectives," he said and she looked away with a scowl. What was she supposed to say? That she decided to let herself hope that Holmes would know how to respect her privacy? That she was naïve enough to think he would act like a decent human being?
"Sherlock doesn't really understand what respect is. Not when it comes to someone else's privacy. Until that changes, I have nothing to say to him," she explained and shrugged. "It doesn't matter. It's not like he needs me."
"But you might need him sometimes," Greg pointed out, but Victoria only smiled.
"I've been doing pretty good before he came back from the dead. I'll be fine. There are much more important things, than having perfect statistics."
"If you'd like to talk about something…" he offered, somewhat embarrassed, and her smile got even bigger.
"Thank you. You're a great guy, Greg. And a great friend," she said and patted him on his shoulder. "Which is why I know I'm going to be fine, with or without Sherlock. You always have my back anyway."
She could tell by his grin that her words meant a lot to him. Victoria had never fully understood Lestrade's wife, who preferred to cheat on him, rather than appreciate the man she'd married. Sure, life with a detective could be demanding, but Greg had never stopped to care. He was sweet and loyal, and he deserved to be happy.
"You should go pick that suit up," she said and tilted her head. "Who knows, maybe you'll find a nice lady at the wedding?"
Greg looked away, blushing slightly and making Victoria look at him with surprise. Interesting. Lestrade rarely got this flustered, which meant that either he had hoped for finding someone there, or that he'd already done it.
"Maybe. Yes, well… Who knows right? The chances aren't good, but… Um. Yeah."
"If not, you can always dance with Molly. I'm sure Tom won't mind," she joked and watched his blush go deeper.
Oh, my, God, she thought, trying to stop herself from staring at him with her mouth wide open. Greg Lestrade liked Molly Hooper. Greg and Molly. Molly and Greg. How did that happen? And what exactly had happened? Molly was engaged, after all. She wasn't exactly the type to walk around and cheat on her fiancé. What was going on?!
"Um. Yeah. I guess I can. Or not. Probably a good idea, though."
Victoria had so many questions, but she stopped herself from saying anything. Greg might have felt something for the registrar, but it certainly couldn't be an easy situation. She didn't want to ruin anything by being nosy. Both of them were grown-ups, they could handle their own problems. She couldn't stop herself from thinking that they would be rather cute together. Probably the weirdest couple ever, but… Maybe it could actually work?
Either way, it wasn't her business. Victoria was happy with just watching them from a distance.
"Have fun, Greg. Give the newlyweds my best wishes and send me a photo," she said and patted him on the shoulder again. She turned around and walked away, to wrap up the crime scene and get back to work.
She had a long day ahead of her.
Victoria couldn't say she wasn't surprised that Molly Hooper decided to ask for her help. The registrar was a sweet girl, always nice and polite, even if a bit awkward at times. Radcliffe couldn't even say why they weren't friends, because Molls had definitely struck her as a person, who could bring a lot of light and airiness into her life. Maybe the reason for their warm, but not-so-close relationship, was their busy schedules, or maybe it had something to do with the fact that one of them was engaged and the other wasn't. It was harder to find the time to socialise, when someone was waiting for you at home.
Either way, Victoria decided that none of the reasons mattered. When Molly had called her, saying that her beautician had cancelled the appointment the day before the wedding, the detective knew that she just couldn't say no. She wasn't an expert when it came to make-up, or hairdressing, but she certainly knew enough to help a girl out.
Victoria arrived at Molly's apartment and knocked on the door, surprised that it took only a second for it to open. Apparently, the registrar couldn't wait for her arrival, and that fact made Victoria smile warmly at the girl in front of her.
"Hey, Molls. I'm not late, am I?" she asked, stepping inside the apartment, encouraged by Molly's gesture.
Her entire place had turned into a one, huge wardrobe, as clothes were lying everywhere, making Victoria dizzy with all the colours and different textures. She would have never guessed that someone as subdued as Molly Hooper would own so many clothes.
"No, not at all!" the registrar said and shook her head. "I'm so glad you agreed to help me. I had no one else to ask. My friend is busy today, so she couldn't do it."
"Don't worry about it. I usually don't have the time to doll-up, but I kind of like playing with make-up." She waved her hand dismissively and looked around the room one more time, only to spot Tom, who was sitting on the couch and trying not to look completely horrified by the chaos surrounding him. "Hi, Tom."
God, it was so hard not to notice his resemblance to Sherlock. Maybe his face wasn't all that similar, since he definitely lacked Holmes' bone structure and none of his features caught the eye in the same way that Sherlock's did. The the way he styled his hair and the way he dressed, though… It almost made her think that Molly had searched the entire country just to find someone, who would look just like the consulting detective.
Victoria smiled at the man, ignoring her own discomfort, but she couldn't stop herself from looking away. Thinking about Sherlock wasn't the best idea right now. She couldn't waste the entire morning on brooding. Not when Molly counted on her.
"Hello, Victoria," Tom answered, glancing at his fiancé. "Babe, would you mind if I went out for a bit? All of this is making my head spin," he added and glanced at Molly hopefully.
The registrar nodded ad smiled, but Victoria couldn't stop herself from thinking that she looked almost relieved. Her fiancé probably wasn't much of a help. He certainly didn't seem like the type, who could be resolute enough to make a useful remark.
A minute later, he was dressed in his Sherlock-like coat, kissing Molly goodbye, while Victoria tried not to pay attention to that intimate moment. She wasn't really a fan of showing that kind of affection with other people watching, but she could respect that not everyone had to share her view on the matter. It didn't stop her from feeling uncomfortable, though. She started to walk around the room, looking at all the dresses picked out by Molls.
Molly's style was… something. Victoria couldn't find a single piece she would like to wear, but she could definitely picture the registrar in every one of them. They were colourful girly, and they lacked the classic elegance that Victoria was used to. She preferred simplicity and those dresses picked out by Molly were not simple.
When the door closed behind Tom, Victoria glanced at the registrar, only to find her standing in the middle of the room with anxious expression painted all over her face. Why was she nervous? Was she afraid of Victoria's opinion, or was it about something entirely else?
"I'm sorry," the girl finally said and shifted her weight from one foot to the other. "Tom doesn't really get what that fuss is all about."
"Even better if he's not here," Victoria said and shrugged. "At least he won't bother us." Molly smiled weakly in response and walked up to her slowly. "So, which dress did you pick?"
"The yellow one, I think," Molly answered and gestured towards the one that Victoria dismissed without hesitation. Obviously, that must have meant that the registrar would like it the most. "I have a perfect ribbon to match it."
"Does it need a ribbon? The waistline seems pretty fitted." Victoria frowned, raising the dress up and making sure that she was right.
"I meant for the hair." Molly pointed to a yellow piece of fabric that was lying on top of the coffee table, and Victoria forced herself to keep a straight face.
So she wanted to have a giant ribbon pinned at the top of her head. Why didn't it occur to Victoria right away? It seemed like something that Molly Hooper would love.
"Right. You want to make a bold statement," she said and smiled. "It makes my job easier really. You don't need much make-up to stand out."
"You think it will work?"
"Sure. If anyone can pull it off, it's you." That wasn't even a lie. Victoria realised that no matter how ridiculous that ribbon seemed to her, Molly would probably manage to look cute. She briefly wondered whether Greg would like it, but she pushed those thoughts away. Burgeoning into other people's private lives was Sherlock's thing. Victoria didn't want to act like him.
A few minutes later, they got to work. For someone, who didn't care so much for looks, Molly had a really great collection of cosmetics, making Victoria's job even easier. At first, they didn't talk much, but after another couple of minutes, the conversation between them just started to flow. Molly Hooper was exceptionally easy to talk to, if one could look past her awkwardness.
"I'm so happy for John and Mary," the registrar said and smiled dreamily. "They're such a beautiful couple. Even Sherlock thinks so." Victoria snorted at that statement, making Molly a bit flustered. "I mean, he would never say it, but I think he likes Mary."
"Yeah, that might be the case. I haven't heard him complain about her too often."
"You talk to him a lot, don't you?" Molly asked, slightly hesitant and Victoria decided that talking about Sherlock was inevitable.
"Not lately. We've had a fight," she admitted truthfully, causing Molly to look up in surprise. Victoria almost poked her in the eye, because of that sudden movement, but her reflex kicked in on time. Molly blushed a bit, muttering apologies, but it was easy to tell that she really wanted to know more about that fight. "He pissed me off, so I told him to go to hell."
"I wish I could do that…" the girl whispered and Victoria lowered her hand, frowning at the sadness that appeared on Molly's face. "I don't think I have the courage."
"I don't think that courage has anything to do with it. Not in your case."
"What do you mean?"
Victoria sighed and sat down for a moment, briefly checking the clock and making sure that they had the time to just talk. She looked at Molly and smiled apologetically, before speaking.
"I hope you're not going to get mad at me for saying this, but… It's really not so hard to figure out that you still have feelings for him." Molly blushed furiously, leaving Victoria no doubts that she was, in fact, correct in her assumptions. "I'm not saying that you still love him, but something is definitely there. It's harder to oppose the person you like."
Molly didn't answer at first. She just looked down to her manicured nails and smiled bitterly.
"I hate myself for those feelings. I'm happy. Or, at least, I was happy, before he came back. I thought I've moved on, but there are moments, when I just can't stop myself from thinking…"
She didn't have to finish the sentence. Victoria knew perfectly what Molly meant. Sometimes, you just couldn't stop yourself from wishing that things could be different. She'd probably spent a lot of time, thinking about what it would be like to actually be in a relationship with him, to kiss him and to feel him kissing her back. Those were the things that always accompanied unrequited love. Victoria couldn't say that she had ever found herself in a situation like Molly's, but it was easy to tell that it took its toll on the poor girl.
"Greg… Greg said I'm stupid for loving him," the registrar said and looked up, to see Victoria's reaction. "But how do I stop, if even two years of not seeing him couldn't heal me completely?"
"Molls…" Victoria sighed and shook her head. "Greg would never understand your feelings towards him. Sure, loving a person, who is mean and doesn't care for you, seems weird. But you should never feel bad for offering someone your affection. It's always going to be their loss, for not accepting it."
"Do you understand my feelings for him?" Molly asked quietly and Victoria shrugged.
"Sure I do. Sherlock's exciting. He walks into the room and suddenly, the air becomes thicker, and your heart starts working faster, because you know that he's the epitome of brilliance. You want nothing more than to just understand him, get inside of that mind of his. And then you look at his immaculate posture, at his ridiculous bone structure. Suddenly, it hits you that he's more than just a genius. Suddenly, it's hard to stop yourself from wanting him."
Molly opened her mouth in shock, while Victoria began to realise that her words were true to the core. In fact, they were so true, that she wouldn't be surprised if Molls decided that she wasn't the only one infatuated with Holmes.
"Wow," the registrar breathed out after a moment of silence. "I don't think I could have described it better."
Victoria tried to keep a straight face, but Molly's scrutinising gaze made it very difficult. Finally, she sighed and scratched her head.
"It's really not that you're the only one who's ever noticed Sherlock," she said. "But most women are able to resist that pull towards him, because he's a mean prick. They don't try to find his different side. They simply move on, since he only hurts them."
"I want to move on, Victoria, I really do."
"Then why does your fiancé look like him?" Victoria asked, crossing her arms over her chest. Molly blushed and glanced towards her hands, unable to meet Vicky's gaze. "I don't think you really wanted to move on, Molls. I think you just lied to yourself, up to this point. To me, it seems almost like you've got used to this feeling so much, that it became a part of you. I think it's hard to let go of that part and simply accept that your life can be better without it."
Molly let out a shaky breath and clenched her fists. Victoria started to regret her words, because looking at the registrar hurt. She tried so hard not to cry and be strong, but she was losing this battle fairly quickly.
"I just… I feel so stupid, Vic," the girl whispered and closed her eyes. "I don't think I've ever stopped hoping that he would… he…" Her voice broke and Victoria found herself clenching her fists in anger. She knew exactly what Molly wanted to say, and it made her furious. Because Sherlock was aware of the girl's feelings, and he still let her believe. He let her, even though she didn't deserve to be treated that way. "But he never will. I know that now, and it makes me feel even worse. In a way, it's like giving up on your biggest dream. It hurts."
Before she could stop herself, Victoria stood up and walked up to Molly, caressing her shoulder gently. Her body was shaking from the pent-up emotions, so Victoria just allowed her to let it all out. She just stood there, waiting for that flood of feelings to pass. When it finally did, she crouched down, tilted Molly's chin up and smiled.
"Don't force yourself to be happy, Molls. Don't force yourself to pretend that you're not fragile and sweet. Don't be afraid to admit that you've made a mistake, because it's the only way to actually move forward. It probably doesn't help, but I really believe that you'll find your happiness. That it will find you."
Molly sniffled and smiled through her tears.
"Actually, it does help. I think I can stop crying now."
Victoria chuckled and stood up, grabbing her brush again.
"Good. We have to get you ready, don't we?"
Molly nodded and wiped her face with her t-shirt. She smiled, and Victoria thought that she looked really pretty with her eyes glowing. The detective wished she could see her with such a genuine smile more often.
Suddenly, the smile disappeared, replaced with a hesitant expression.
"Vic? Can I ask you something?"
"Sure," Victoria answered, although she had a bad feeling about that question. It felt only fair to be honest with the girl, though, so she put up a smile and shrugged her anxiousness off.
"Do you have feelings for Sherlock?"
Her entire body tensed, upon hearing Molly's words, and she knew that the registrar must have noticed that. What felt even worse, was that she couldn't find the right answer to this question. Sure enough, she was angry with him, he annoyed her to no end, but he also excited her. Victoria had learned to enjoy those moments spent in his company. She learned to read between the verses, to look underneath his snarky remarks and mean comments.
There were moments, when she simply couldn't stop herself from sending her mind in that same spiral, which consumed Molly's mind for years. What would it be like to become that one woman, who could change him? What if he had a different side, one that wasn't entirely opposed to the concept of love? What if…
And then, reality struck her, making those dreams subside to the deepest parts of her mind again. Parts, which were hidden so carefully, that most of the time, she couldn't even remember they were there. Victoria couldn't allow herself to think about Sherlock in that way, because falling for him would, undoubtedly, destroy whatever sanity she had left. He would hurt her over, and over, until she wouldn't care anymore.
She simply couldn't let that happen.
"I hope I don't."
It didn't make any sense. Why would the killer decide to target someone seemingly innocent? The victim wasn't even a drug addict. He had no hit marks, and the tests showed that he was clean form any illegal substances. He hadn't even smoked weed.
They had troubles finding his identity, so it was still possible that the victim had a long criminal record. It wouldn't be a surprise, but Victoria had a feeling that he wasn't one of those thugs for life. Her feelings usually turned out to be right, so she decided to trust her gut for now. Her gut didn't help her figure out what had really happened though.
Vic rubbed her face and stretched, feeling stiff from sitting down for too long. She had completely lost the track of time. Her crime wall consumed her attention, making Victoria forget about the world around her. She grabbed her phone from the table, checking for messages. Lestrade had sent her a picture of John and Mary right in front of the church. They looked so happy and excited, that Victoria couldn't stop herself from smiling.
Another message was from Molly. This time, she could not only see the newlyweds, but also Sherlock and a pretty brunette, standing next to the couple. Victoria's gaze stopped on Holmes' silhouette, deciding that his tux had made him look even taller. Or maybe it was John's fault? Either way, she couldn't stop herself from thinking that Sherlock looked like a statue; his lean silhouette was one thing, but the passive expression on his face seemed completely out of place.
She didn't reply to any of those messages. Instead, she walked into the kitchen, pouring herself a glass of wine. Her brain was exhausted, but she doubted that sleep would come soon. There were too many things occupying her mind. If she wanted to rest, she had to numb herself first.
Victoria went back to the living room and switched on the TV, trying to find anything interesting. It was late, so most of the movies playing were heavy and dark. She didn't really feel like watching any of them, but she didn't have a choice. At least they helped to get her mind off the crime scene.
Not even ten minutes had passed, when she heard a sound of her lock being picked. Her entire body froze, when she realised what it meant. Victoria really didn't know how to feel about facing Sherlock again, but she was even more baffled by his visit. Sure, it was really late and Holmes didn't strike her as a party person, but she didn't expect him to leave his best friend's wedding. Even he wouldn't have done something like that. At least that's what she thought, before she heard the sound of her door opening.
Victoria didn't bother grabbing her gun. In fact, she hardly even moved, staring at the TV and trying not to panic. The door closed with a quiet click, but no sounds followed. She slowly turned her head and glanced at Sherlock, who was still wearing his tux, looking completely out of place in her ordinary, bland apartment. Victoria really didn't know what to say, so she remained quiet, looking at him cautiously.
Sherlock stared into an empty space, with a frown on his forehead. He was completely still, but his shoulders were tense, indicating that he realised his presence in her apartment was awkward. Finally, he moved towards the couch and sat down next to her, keeping a safe distance.
"I've caught the Mayfly Man," he said, surprising her. Was he hoping that talking about a murderer could avert her attention from the memories of their last meeting? "I realised that the attack on Bainbridge wasn't personal. It was a rehearsal. He wanted to see if his plan would succeed. One of the guests, Major Sholto, was his real target. He stabbed him with a thin blade through his belt. The pressure prevented Major from feeling anything, and bleeding out on the spot. A very clever plan."
Victoria had to admit that it really was impressive. She wanted to ask so many questions, but something stopped her from opening her mouth. Maybe it was the anger she still felt towards him, or maybe it was the faint smell of his cologne that reminded her of her stupidity. His presence here was unexplainable and weird, but it certainly couldn't have anything to do with Victoria. Sherlock probably wanted to brag, to show off, and he thought that her inability to resist a good riddle would make her forget about their fight. Whatever it was, it didn't mean that Sherlock actually wanted to spend time with her, or earn her forgiveness.
"You're probably wondering how did the killer know about Major Sholto's wedding invitation. He managed to obtain that information by dating various women. He was our ghost. Turns out, the killer simply wanted to meet someone who could provide him access to Sholto. He went through all that effort to avenge his brother, who..."
"Stop," she finally said, interrupting him, and Sherlock fell silent immediately. "I've told you to go to hell, Holmes. What makes you think I want to hear any of it?"
"You told me to let you know if I solved the case," he answered, and she remembered that one single note she'd left on his laptop. Victoria wanted to snort in amusement, knowing that most people would simply realise that having a massive fight definitely cancelled that request. Not Sherlock though.
"Well then. Now that you've told me, feel free to show yourself out," she said and tried to remind herself that she had a reason to be mean to him.
"John told me that what I've said was... disrespectful and hurtful," Sherlock muttered, clearly displeased with having to say something like that. "I've realised that it was never my intention to make you feel mistreated. I still cannot understand the reason for choosing your own feelings over the righteousness of catching a criminal, but I acknowledge the complexity of your choice."
Victoria looked at him, only to find him staring into the TV with a blank expression. His face might have looked hollow, but Sherlock's gaze was sharp and focused. She had known him well enough to be able to see that his words were completely sincere; carefully chosen, but still truthful. She tried to remind herself that staying away from him would be good for her, but a part of her wanted to trust him.
"You still want to look for him, don't you?" Victoria asked quietly, watching him nod decisively.
"Yes, naturally. But I won't make it my priority."
"Why not?"
Sherlock didn't answer at first, but something told her that he would, eventually.
"I've realised that I value our... partnership. You're obviously not as intelligent as me, but you seem to have a very good intuition. As a detective, your success comes from the mere fact that you don't close off your mind to options that seem less likely," he said and turned his head to look at her. "Your comment about Bainbridge being stabbed before he had stepped into the shower, allowed me to analyse the situation today and solve the case. I probably would have done it without you, but it was... easier that way."
It was probably the biggest compliment she'd heard from him. He claimed that having an assistant was a necessity, because it allowed him to talk out loud about his ideas and draw his own conclusions. He didn't actually need help. And to hear that her insight could prove actually useful... Well, she certainly hadn't expected that.
"I don't like to clutter my brain with useless information, which is why I filter everything that John says. It doesn't happen with you. Well, not as much."
He didn't actually apologise, he didn't change his mind regarding her father, but Victoria's anger dissipated nonetheless. Maybe she was too soft, but she just couldn't help herself. Not when she knew how hard it was for Sherlock to say those words. Not when a part of her was so eager to believe in every single word coming out of his mouth. And maybe it was pathetic and wrong, but she still smiled at him.
"Apology accepted. Doesn't mean I'm not pissed at you and that I'm okay with all of this. But I no longer feel the need to kick you out," Vicky muttered, watching Sherlock's expression soften. He didn't even correct her, as he would have usually done, if someone accused him of apologising. "You didn't have to leave the party to tell me that."
"Weddings aren't my thing. If it wasn't for the attempted murder, it would bore me to death." He rolled his eyes and Victoria's smile grew bigger.
"How did your speech go?"
"John hugged me, so I assume that it must have been decent. I don't know why everybody started to cry, but apparently that's what people do at the weddings," he said, making Victoria chuckle.
"Yep. Another reason to dislike those events." She agreed and frowned a moment later. "So why did you leave?"
"I wasn't needed anymore."
"Don't you think John would have wanted you to stay anyway?"
"John has just found out that his wife is pregnant," Sherlock said and Victoria opened her mouth in surprise.
"Mary's pregnant?! That's..."
"Perfectly predictable, when people copulate."
"That's such a terrible way to call it..." She muttered in response, covering her eyes.
"Why? It is, after all, an act leading to procreation, is it not?"
How did they get to that in such a short amount of time? Victoria had barely stopped being angry with him. So why was she talking about sex with Sherlock Holmes? It really wasn't a good idea. Their relationship should be strictly professional, and she didn't need another reason to start questioning her own feelings. She didn't want to spend her time wondering, if someone could change his views on sex; someone, who could show him a different side of this act.
Victoria really needed to stop thinking about that, even if a part of her wanted to continue. She still had to say something, though, before changing the subject to a safer one.
"Not anymore," she answered and smiled. "People do it mostly because it's fun."
He looked at her with a scowl, which told her that he had never considered it a possibility. For Sherlock Holmes, solving crimes and getting high on adrenaline was fun. Victoria cleared her throat, deciding that she didn't want to follow that trail of thoughts.
"I'll have to congratulate John, when I see him."
"Probably won't happen for a while. They're going for their Sex Holiday. John forbade me to call it that, but it seems to be a suitable term."
"It really does," she admitted. "The Honeymoon is probably the only thing that makes up for all the dancing you have to endure during the party."
"You don't like dancing?" Sherlock asked, suddenly agitated, making Victoria kind of anxious.
"Um... Not particularly. Probably because I don't know how to dance."
Sherlock looked at her for a moment, and then stood up, switching the TV off. To her surprise, he extended his hand towards her.
"I can teach you."
She frowned, completely baffled. Did he really... Did he just offer to teach her how to dance?
"You want to teach me. Dancing. You," she said slowly, making Sherlock visibly annoyed.
"It certainly seems that way, yes. Why does it make you unable to construct a proper sentence?"
Victoria looked around, trying to find at least one excuse to turn down his offer, but she couldn't. Slowly, she stood up, sliding her hand into his. It was warm and surprisingly soft.
"I can't believe that you know how to dance," she muttered, following him to the middle of the room. "Although I can't say that it doesn't make sense. You have great coordination and sense of rhythm."
Sherlock let go of her hand for a moment, placing one of her palms on top of his shoulder. His own hand found its way to her waist and she momentarily felt the warmth of his skin seeping through the light fabric of her t-shirt. He pulled her a bit closer and started to explain the theory behind dancing.
Couple of minutes later, Victoria found herself gliding across the room, led by Sherlock to an inaudible piece of music that existed only in his head. It was surprisingly easy to just let go and allow herself to be guided by him, without the care for anything. She couldn't hear the music, but somehow, the beating of her own heart was enough.
Suddenly he pushed her away, and then twirled her back to him, causing her to bump into his chest. He gracefully caught her and tilted her body, like in those romantic comedies Olivia loved to watch.
Victoria couldn't stop herself from smiling, when he pulled her up again and grinned with satisfaction.
"You're a much better partner than Janine," he said, his breath only slightly faster than normally. "I expected you to be rather stiff and uncooperative. You have a very dominant personality."
"It's dancing, Sherlock." She rolled her eyes with amusement. "I can fight you on any other occasion, but not this one. Who's Janine?"
"Mary's Maid of Honour. Not the sharpest mind. Quite shallow in fact."
"But she's pretty," Victoria said, making Sherlock look at her questioningly. "Molly sent me a photo."
"Janine's appearance is irrelevant. You know that the concept of beauty..."
"... means nothing to you, yes." Victoria nodded and sighed. "I hope you didn't hurt her feelings too much."
"No, I was under the impression that she liked me. She definitely appreciated my help in her search for a perfect partner."
"That's... nice of you," Victoria said, fighting the urge to chuckle. Sherlock evidently tried to solve the riddle of Janine's feelings, like it was an interesting case. His expression showed focus, which was completely ridiculous considering the topic of their conversation.
"Well, if she liked you, why haven't you stayed?" she asked, trying to convince herself that she wasn't eager to hear his response.
Sherlock looked at Victoria, his gaze so intense that she suddenly became aware of the fact that they were still touching. His hand resting on her waist started to feel heavy and hot, making her a bit uncomfortable.
"I didn't want to." His answer was simple and pretty straightforward, but Victoria couldn't stop herself from blushing. She felt incredibly grateful that the lighting in the room was dim, because otherwise, she'd have to explain herself and she had no idea what to say.
It wasn't about what he said. It was about what he didn't say. He chose not to stay at the wedding, just as he chose to come by her apartment. Even after he had learned everything about her past, even after she'd told him to go to hell, he still chose to include her in his life. And that was something.
God, she was so stupid. When did it become enough to make her blush like a teenager? He wasn't even hitting on her, for fuck's sake. He hadn't even said anything even remotely close to an intimate confession. So why was her heart racing inappropriately fast? Why was she fighting the urge to smile at him like a blithering idiot?
She cleared her throat and took a step back, watching Sherlock's hand fall to his side limply. He looked down to his arm, realising that he kept touching her throughout their conversation, and he frowned, probably unable to understand his own behaviour. Victoria wanted to laugh, seeing puzzlement on his face, but something stopped her from doing so.
Maybe it was the tension in her own body, or maybe it was the fact that his puzzlement turned into fascination. Suddenly, it was hard to breathe.
Like I said, I wanted to explain something else. I don't know if you're fans of Greg and Molly, but in case you're not -don't worry, their relationship will just be there, in a very subtle way. But if you ship these two -go check out "Undiscovered Feelings" wirtten by KagamiNee. My story and hers are connected, like I've mentioned earlier. It's not neccesary to read them both, though :)