Thanks again for all the reviews! :-)
So far, this is the longest we have gone without an update. Good reason for that, too.
See, I live in Switzerland. And the first of August is our equivalent of Independence Day. There are those, who prefer 'celebrating into it', so lots of partying on July 31st. More partying, obviously, on August 1st. Lots of events, noise, fireworks. As I happen to be on 'the board' (really too fancy in this context) of a organization aiming at arranging events for pre-school aged children, there was lots of work to be done around those days.
Immediately followed by - drum roll please - my 7th wedding anniversary on August 2nd. Celebrated by a whooping two hours of 'freedom' thanks to both my mother and my mother in law. Because, while I am insane enough to have three kids, apparently nobody else wants them all at once ;-) That's the other thing: School's out for summer. How do I get anything done? I mean, when I'm not neglecting my motherly duties?
No, just kidding. Don't call child services on me, I am really quite lovely. Once you get past the layer of weird. My kids don't mind. They'll each get a handmade (somewhat simplified) replica of Gimli's axe, once they manage to sing 'Far over the Misty Mountains'. Although my second born prefers 'That's what Bilbo Baggins hates'. Meh, I'll accept it. (The only 'music' my youngest makes are vibrations in his diapers. So he'll have to wait...) I'd make little beards and armor, but they wouldn't wear it anyway. Oh, and I still have them convinced, that every kid has to know the star wars theme. But I won't let them play with my Tardis or sonic screwdriver. Mine! *my precious*
Anyway, on top of my three hairless hobbits, I'm also going to house my nephew for a few days, starting Sunday evening. Until... whenever I've had enough, I guess. Would be yesterday, really. I'm weird, not insane. Four kids, seriously?! But I'm also nice, self-destructively nice. And my sister is oh so pregnant with her second one. Yeah, I remember that. Fun times. Not.
Long story short: The next update to this story might take a while. Even if the little, muggle-born, yet to be indoctrinated wannabe geek won't stay all that long, I won't get anything done with him here and will need a while to rehabilitate the household of my little hobbit hole. These dwarves just don't pick up after themselves!
(Can you tell, I'm in withdrawal! No Doctor Who, no new Hobbit, no Sherlock, no Supernatural... Merlin is done, Stargate has ended long ago, X-Files even longer, and - honestly - I am still crying myself to sleep over Firefly. Plus, there is not enough time in any of my days for WoW, Skyrim or the Old Republic. On the plus side, I got new books for my wedding anniversary. The Silmarillion, The Hobbit, The Lord of the Rings Trilogy and Unfinished Tales. But I am still not done with the epic Firefly FanFic penned by the amazing badkarma00, the Shade Tales: fanfictionDOTnet/u/1341518/badkarma00 - Browncoats Unite! Speaking of which: All of my kids seem to enjoy the Ballad of Serenity, my oldest even singing along with me.)
Seriously, though, I'm going bonkers here. My husband doesn't understand any of my references anymore (I seem to only speak in references at the moment. Might aswell be Klingon...) and Amazon has just sent me a friendly e-mail letting me know, the 'curse your sudden but inevitable betrayal'-shirt I ordered is no longer in stock. So I write fanfiction and craft Gimli's axe times three (or rather make my husband do it, 'cause he's better at it *cough*) to pass the time. Oh, and a castle. We're working hard on building a little drawbridge castle for our kids. Maybe we should make some bows and arrows, too. So they could have proper fun storming each other's castles. Get it? *snicker* As you wish!
Ok, I'll stop now. My fangirl shows. OMG. *dies*.
Chapter 14
Molly was dozing off when a sudden buzzing sound startled her. She lifted her head off the back of the sofa and looked around, slightly disoriented.
Her senses not yet having completely returned to the waking world, she looked down at the weight in her lap, fully expecting to see Toby. Her eyes widened, when she instead saw Sherlock, his gaze firmly fixed on a journal propped up on his chest. Right next to her right arm.
It took her only a moment to remember what had happened earlier. She started looking to the left where she knew her silenced, now buzzing mobile phone was lying on the small side table, when she suddenly stopped and jerked her left hand into the air.
Staring down at Sherlock, she saw him grimace, but keeping his eyes firmly fixed on the medical journal in his hands. "I'd prefer you not doing that."
"I... I'm sorry, I didn't... I wasn't... not intentionally..." Not quite sure what to say, she slowly started to pull her right arm away, wanting to cease all physical contact. But Sherlock removed his left hand from the journal, reached out for her arm and held on to her wrist, now slowly looking up at her.
"Not your hand in my hair." He blinked, momentarily braking eye contact "I didn't mind that. But in the future, I'd like you to not remove it quite as forcefully." With that, he returned both his hand and his gaze back to the journal.
Molly stared down at Sherlock, slowly lowering her left hand next to his head. In the future... Her right arm snaked its way back over Sherlock's chest to its previous, comfortable position. In the future... Slowly, gently, she reached out with the fingers of her left hand, just barely touching the tip of a curl. In the future. Almost unnoticeably, her fingers worked their way through his hair, gently twisting a single lock around them.
A low humming sound escaped Sherlock's lips and he tensed. Just barely, but enough for Molly to know, that the little noise had not been intentional.
She became bolder, her fingers caressing his forehead, his temples, always returning to his curls. She became lost in caressing his hair and scalp, intently watching Sherlock's features for the barely noticeable signs of enjoyment, pleasure even. So lost, that she froze for a moment, when she noticed, where her right hand happened to be.
She had been so engrossed in the workings of her left hand, of the fingers of her hand, that she had been absolutely unaware of her right hand slowly traveling down Sherlock's chest, now a lot closer to his belt buckle than to the journal in his hands.
Molly suppressed the impulse of just jerking her hands away as she had done before. Instead, she slowly disentangled the fingers of her left hand from Sherlock's hair, reaching for the phone she had only just remembered. She switched the phone to her right hand and held it close to her face, as she put her other hand down on the armrest, reasonably far from Sherlock's head of curls.
"Oh!" Molly's eyebrows shot up in surprise at the missed call on her display and the name that accompanied it. She quickly called back and received an answer after only two rings.
"Misses Hudson? It's Molly. Sorry I missed you. I... was busy." A gentle blush crept up her cheeks, but soon disappeared as she listened to the woman on the other end.
Sherlock could only hear Molly's part of the conversation and felt the tension rise in him as he heard the worry in her voice.
"Of course. No, don't worry. It's no bother. Of course not. I'll be over right away. See you then." She hung up and gently pushed against Sherlock's shoulder, signaling him to get off her lap. Now, that her mind was elsewhere, she was no longer overanalyzing the whole situation and her movements came more natural. Without a second thought, she gently stroked Sherlock's hair one last time before getting up and moving to her bedroom to get properly dressed. She wasn't going to leave her flat in an oversized shirt and purple sweat pants.
When she moved past the sofa to get ready to leave the flat, Sherlock's eyes followed her, his brows furrowed. "Problem?"
"Nothing, it's fine." Molly quickly put on her shoes and coat, rifling through her handbag to make sure, she wasn't forgetting anything. "It will be fine."
"Well, which is it?" Sherlock was clearly annoyed.
"What?" Molly shot him a questioning look as she went to the door.
"Is it fine or will it be? It will be fine clearly indicates, that it is not presently so. Begging the question, if this development happens to be factual or merely wishful thinking."
Without hesitation, Molly quickly walked over to the sofa where Sherlock was sitting upright now. She gently cupped his right cheek in her hand as she leaned over and planted a tender kiss on his other cheek. Moving back, she looked into his eyes - widened in surprise - and stated, with a tone that left no room for doubt, "It will be fine."