Disclaimer: I do not own the characters in this story, I am just borrowing them from ACD and the wonderful people at the BBC. No copyright infringement intended, as this is a work purely for enjoyment not profit.
Author note at bottom.
Chapter 1 - A Rose For The Dead
18th June 1876 - Finchley - A small town on the outskirts of London.
Early morning sunlight streamed through the open window, casting a warm glow over the room and bringing with it birdsong and the fresh scent of roses. Most would call it a perfect morning, but to Molly Hooper this day could never be perfect. Five years in and the anniversary of her Father's death never got any easier, everywhere she looked she was reminded of him, and her even longer dead Mother, making her feel lost and alone all over again.
Not the kind of woman to allow herself more than a moment of self pity, Molly climbed out of bed and got dressed, in her simple but serviceable skirt, bodice and pinafore, with a light shawl around her shoulders, grabbed her satchel and set out for the day. The cottage that her father had left to her was small, but the garden was beautiful, filled with seasonal fruit and vegetables, there was always something ripe or in bloom. Molly plucked a couple of juicy looking apricots from the tree, putting one in her bag and taking a bite out of the other, a perfect on-the-go breakfast for the busy day ahead of her.
Her first stop, as always, was the local police station, or rather the senior officer quarters above it. Since the scandal of his wife leaving him last year for another man, Detective Inspector Gregory Lestrade had been at a loss, throwing himself into his work and taking poor care of himself outside of it. He had been so good to her when her father died, she felt it was the least she could do to pop in and make sure he didn't starve himself. Humming a little tune to herself, and as an audible sign to her friend that it was only her, she went into his bedroom only to yank open the curtains, leaving again so he could get himself up and decent while she pottered around the kitchen, stoking the fire, putting the kettle on to boil and fetching some bread and butter from the larder. She was just pouring the tea when the DI staggered sleepily out of his room, sitting himself at the table.
"d' I ever tell you, you're a goodsend, Molly?"
"Only every day." Molly smiled at their usual morning banter, putting his toast and the second apricot down in front of him. "Any laundry for me to take today?"
To her surprise, he shook his head. "Thanks, but Sally'll take care of that."
"Sally?"
"Oh, right, I forgot you haven't met her yet. She's Anderson's new mistress," he explained, "A good girl, she's been helping out around the place. And a smart one too."
"If she's so smart, what is she doing with Anderson?" Molly quipped with a wry smile, making the detective snort a laugh, almost choking on his toast as he did so.
"You may have a point there." He agreed with a warm smile, his eyes lingering on hers for a second in the kind of way that made her blush and turn away quickly to busy herself tidying up. There wasn't really much to do, since he rarely spent enough time in the flat to make a mess.
"Well then. I'd better be off, I'll be back later to get your dinner."
"Don't worry, I'll have Sally fix me something up. Not that I don't enjoy your company!..." He swiftly backtracked, seeing her lips part in hurt rejection, "I just thought you might want the night off, you know, because... Well, I know today is hard for you..."
"Actually I prefer to keep myself busy, if it's all the same to you." She cut off his ramblings, hating how small she sounded saying it.
"Yeah, I get that." Gregory nodded, sounding every bit as weary as she felt, before forcing a cheery "tonight, then."
Next stop was the doctors office. Usually she would do straight around the back to the mortuary, where she earned a small wage assisting Doctor Stamford, but today she had to see the doctor to the living, Doctor Watson. She waited patiently in the waiting room, which was thankfully still quite empty, until the good doctor escorted a patient out, and spotted her.
"Molly, what brings you up to my office? You look well enough, or did Mike send you up for something?"
"Neither, I finished the book you lent me, and just wanted to return it." Molly explained, pulling the copy of Gray's Anatomy out of her bag carefully and handing it over.
"Already? Gracious, you really are a voracious reader. How did you find it?" He enquired pleasantly, tucking the book under one arm.
"Very insightful, Doctor Gray has a way with explaining things, I'm sure what I've learned will be very useful when I'm assisting Doctor Stamford with his-" She hastily cut herself off before she could say 'autopsies', remembering a little too late that it fell a little out of the purview of a nurses job, and she wasn't exactly one of those either. As a glorified cleaner it wouldn't do to tell the Doctor whom the clinic belonged to that she'd been doing more than she should.
Doctor Watson's kind smile didn't dim in the slightest however, and he quickly jumped in to save her floundering for excuses.
"Always been a good judge of character, Mike, glad to hear he's not letting a mind like yours go to waste. Oh don't look so shocked, I'm well aware how remarkably capable the fairer sex can be, Mary certainly wouldn't allow me to forget it."
Molly's mouth hung open a few seconds longer, before she managed to recover from her shock and remember her manners.
"And how is Mary? And your little one... Charlotte isn't it?"
"Both well, thank you. Anyway, I mustn't keep you, I'm sure Mike will be wondering where you are by now." He reminded her, nodding to the clock.
"Oh! Yes, sorry, thank you!" She squeaked, hastily waving as she dashed out the office and down to the mortuary.
"Molly! Thank goodness you're here, I wasn't sure you'd be in today, since it's... Well, you know." Doctor Stamford rushed over as she got in, looking a little flustered, but not even slightly angry at her for her lateness. She wasn't even sure he could get angry, she couldn't recall ever seeing him anything other than jolly, even in face of the tragedies it was his job to document, it was like water off a duck's back.
"Well, I'm here. What did you need me to do today?" She asked, hopeful after her conversation with Doctor Watson that Doctor Stamford would have something interesting for her to do.
"Actually I have something a bit out of the usual to ask of you today. I have an urgent letter I need delivered to my parents out in Enfield, and the postman won't be able to take it any earlier than tomorrow. Could you run it over for me?"
"Yes, of course." Molly agreed, swallowing her disappointment. The intrigue of learning more would still be there tomorrow, and it wasn't a bad day for a ride out of town.
"Excellent, thank you." Stamford beamed, handing the sealed envelope over. "I expect it'll take the better part of the day, so don't worry about checking in when you're back, I'll just see you tomorrow."
Molly nodded in assent, tucking the letter into her bag and setting back out for home, where she would pick up her trusty horse, Toby, for the journey. She was halfway across the town square when a pair of hands descended over her eyes from behind.
"Guess who?" A playful voice with a distinctive Irish lilt sang in her ear.
"I know it's you, Jimmy Gaston!" Molly giggled, pulling out of the loose embrace and turning to face her suitor. Jimmy was the village handyman, making a living doing odd jobs for people. He had come to her rescue when her roof sprung a leak a few months ago, and they had been courting since. She giggled even more as he raised her hand to his mouth for a kiss.
"You nearly ran right by me, was last night's date so bad?" He teased.
"Did I? Sorry, I just have this thing to do for Doctor Stamford, and I wasn't watching where I was going..." She trailed off, seeing in his smiling face that her excuses weren't necessary. "And I did have a very good time last night." She finished instead, blushing slightly at the memory. Jimmy was a very forward man, he tempted and teased her and she wasn't entirely sure she minded, though she knew her principles would always win out at the end of the night.
"Goood." He drew the word out, "Then will you see me again tonight?"
"Maybe. If I get back in good time..." Molly bit her lip trying to work out time in her schedule. She liked to keep busy on this day, but knew she would also want time to visit her parents' graves, and her day was swiftly filling up.
"Where are you going?" Jimmy's voice broke into her musings.
"Hmm? Oh, Enfield."
"Perhaps tomorrow then. Be careful on the road, you know what they say about the Beast of the Manor up the way, snatching up travellers." He grabbed her in a playful hold, making her giggle again.
"I'll be fine, I'll have Toby with me, the beast would have to be pretty fast to catch us."
"I'll still worry about you." Jimmy cooed, making a show of reticence in letting her go.
"You are sweet. See you tomorrow."
"Until then, my love."
The ride out to Enfield passed swiftly, as Molly rode at an easy going canter, soaking up the warmth of the sun that she so didn't get much chance to enjoy down in the coolness of the mortuary. And Toby was a very good listener, as she chatted away to him about what Doctor Watson had said, and how she was thinking of going to London to train to be a nurse.
Mr and Mrs Stamford greeted her warmly, inviting her in for tea and a light lunch, while grilling her for information about their son's wellbeing, and about herself, the light of matchmaking clear in his Mother's eyes, much to Molly's amusement, as she knew it would mortify her boss were he here. By the time they had finished though, and written out a reply to their son for her to take back with her, it was later than Molly would have liked to be setting out home, and she knew she would have to take the journey at a much swifter pace if she wanted to get back before it got too dark to see the road. To make matters worse, the weather had turned, dark storm clouds rolling in and blocking the sun's warm rays.
She was nearly back, about a mile from Finchley, when the clouds shifted, a single shaft of sunlight breaking through the dark clouds, illuminating a rose bush filled with perfect Crimson blooms, making the ones in her own garden pale in comparison. The sight halted Molly, staring at the roses in a rush of emotion. Every year after her mothers death her father had taken one red rose to her grave, and Molly had carried on the tradition, taking them both a rose each on this day. She had been planning on picking them from her own garden when she got back, but that plan evaporated when she saw the illuminated bush, and she knew no other roses would do.
There was just two problems. Most immediately, the high wrought iron fence that lay between her and the roses, and secondly, but no less prominently, the dark sprawling manor beyond. Home to the Beast that Jimmy had warned her about, the one everyone in the villages surrounding had heard tales of, and feared. Some of them Molly thought best to take with a pinch of salt, the tales of a creature half human half animal, but she'd still rather not run into the man that stirred such dread.
But those roses, though. She couldn't see anyone about, if she was quick she wouldn't need fear running into the Beast at all, she'd be on her way in no time. Without further delay, she urged Toby closer to the fence, climbing up unsteadily to her feet on his back to give herself a boost over the fence. She thought she had made a clean job of it too, until she heard the rip of fabric as she dropped down the other side, turning to see a sizeable tear up the side of her skirt. No time to worry about that now, she decided, at least it would make the climb back over easier. The clouds had shifted again, blocking out the sun once again, but it was still just light enough to find the roses in the gloom, and they were just as beautiful. Being careful of thorns, she selected two of the best roses and plucked them, stem and all, from the bush.
No sooner had she done so, then the clouds burst, emptying the heavens on her with pelting rain. After securing the precious roses in her satchel she made a break for the fence, jumping for a handhold to pull herself out and finding it too slick from the rain. She couldn't take the risk of dodging the spikes at the top again like this, if she slipped she'd do far worse than ruin her skirt.
"Okay, don't panic." Molly told herself, drawing her shawl up over her head to protect herself better from the rain. There had to be a gate around here somewhere. "Come on Toby, with me." She called, thankful he was so well trained as he followed her along the other side of the fence. By the time they reached the gate, she was soaked through and shivering. With shaking hands she reached for the latch, but found it wouldn't budge, locked fast.
"No. No, come on." She whined, scared and angry with herself for getting into this predicament. "Okay, think, there's got to be another way-"
Her words were cut off with a gasp as the sky lit up with a roll of thunder. Not used to being out in a storm Toby whinnied, rearing up on his hind legs before dashing away into the steadily growing darkness.
"Toby, no! Don't leave me. Please..." Molly cried, reaching out through the fence hopelessly, starting to lose control of the panic clawing up her chest. She was alone, trapped, soaked and cold. Even if she could get out now, how could she find Toby and find her way back to town in the dark? But with the storm raging and the temperature dropping for the night she knew she couldn't stay out here or she'd freeze to death, or at least give herself a severe case of hypothermia. That left her only one option, and it terrified her. She would have to throw herself on the mercy of the Beast.
Wiping back rainwater mixed with tears from her eyes, Molly started making her way up to the house, telling herself that it would all be okay, that the stories were probably just that; tales to scare the gullible. The house loomed over her, imposing and dark, though there were lights in some windows that she hadn't noticed before, and the idea of a warm fire drew her in. The front doors were massive carved oak affairs, with a lion head knocker that was slightly askew. Molly knocked and felt the door give slightly under her blows, clearly unlocked. Was it an accident of a careless owner, or a sign of welcome to any chance guests, like herself? Well, there was only one way to find out; Molly pushed the door further open, just enough to slip through, and entered.
"Hello? Is anyone here? The door was unlocked so I... I hope you don't mind." Molly called out, her words echoing slightly in the vast entrance hall. Even in the dark she could make out the opulence in her surroundings; tapestries, ornate vases on side tables, a glittering chandelier overhead and parquet flooring beneath her feet, with a lush red carpet running up the grand staircase ahead of her. And here she was, leaving a small puddle from her dripping raggedy clothes, uncertain what to do next. Really, given the clear wealth of the occupant, she was surprised there wasn't a butler waiting to greet her, though she supposed he might be attending to duties elsewhere. It's not like she was expected. If the delicious smell drifting from what must be the kitchens was anything to go by, there had to at least be a cook. And where there was cooking there would be a fire, Molly thought. She should go through, and then the servants could alert their Master of her presence, while she warmed up and dried out by the fire, she decided, following her nose around the side of the stairs, where there were some doors. The first door she tried proved only to be a cleaning cupboard, but the second led to a corridor, clearly leading to the servants quarters, with light spilling out of a doorway halfway down.
"You shouldn't be here." A deep velvety voice growled behind her, causing her to turn sharply, then scream as her eyes fell on the speaker.
The man stood partway up the staircase, scowling down at her. At least she assumed it was a scowl, and that he was a man, as he certainly appeared as some kind of beast like the stories told. His hands - one gripping the stair rail, the other a lantern - curled like claws, appeared almost scaly, a hideous patchwork of discoloured skin and lesions. The visible skin of his face was much the same, what could be seen of it behind a scruffily trimmed and patchy beard and the long curled locks hanging limply to his shoulders. His stunningly beautiful eyes, a sharp contrast to the rest of him, seemed to bore through her where she stood.
Not needing to be told twice that coming in here had been a mistake, Molly turned and ran back for the door, but never quite reached it, slipping on the puddle she left earlier and crashing into one of the end tables. There was a sharp pain where her head met the corner, the smashing sound of a expensive vase hitting the floor, and then blackness.
AN: Hi guys, guess who's back! Hope you enjoyed the first chapter of this new story of mine, I've challenged myself a bit to step out of my comfort zone with this one, particularly doing a period piece, so please let me know what you think so far, and be merciful with any silly little errors, I've researched what I can but there's always something. Also I wasn't sure if this was technically a crossover or not, since I'm only using Sherlock characters, but let me know if you think I should have labelled it as such.
I'm aiming for updates twice weekly since I'm going for longer chapters this time, so don't forget to follow if you want to find out what happens next.
