Disclaimer: I don't own a thing. A. N. For the "reminder" prompt this month from sherlockchallenge on Tumblr. This happened.
Un-Glee-ful
Molly actually loved her job. It was quiet (when Sherlock didn't sweep in, riding crop in hand...but that was nice in a different way), methodical, she found answers and in some cases even helped bring justice along. Still, once home she needed a change of pace. There was only so much cold and death anyone could stand, surely.
So she got herself a flatmate of her own - a fuzzy one who loved to purr in her lap (unlike John...she thought) -, colourful knickknacks, and to fill the empty hours, the silliest entertainment she could find.
It was no wonder that Glee became her favourite comfort show. School shenanigans, plenty of songs, and even when there was the occasional angst, she could count on no gore or life and death stakes. Perfect to unwind. Or at least, it had been.
She hadn't thought twice about making Jim from IT sit through a couple of episodes. He would have to get used to her marathoning it, and the easiest, and luckiest, option, would have been if he'd caught the bug too and simply joined her, at least if they were going to have a future. And oh God, she had really, really wished they could have, he was so sweet and thoughtful and...how could she not have seen the monster he was? Even when Toby had hidden away from him, her smart boy? And yet Jim had looked so disappointed with that, so willing to win him - them all - over, no matter what was needed.
Then the truth came out, in all its awful starkness. Jim wasn't just gay (wouldn't be the first or the last time her gaydar malfunctioned... it seemed she had a thing for unavailable men), he was the bloody consulting criminal. More creative murders and who knew what other crimes on his record than all those committed in Midsomer Murders. Awkward didn't even begin to cover it.
She needed comfort more than ever. Well, she knew what to do. Toby on her lap, a hot cup of jasmine tea, her favourite biscuits, and the laptop open, ready to stream as many Glee episodes as it took to cheer her up.
She couldn't watch for even ten minutes without the ghost of Jim appearing at her side. He repeated the comments he'd made at the time, mostly about pitch and attitude of the performers, but her brain added more snark in his voice, about what he could have done to solve the stupid conflicts of these teenagers, and what he'd like to do with the bastard coach lady... She stopped the show with a groan, that elicited a puzzled meow from Toby. Whyever had she decided to initiate Jim with her favourite episodes?
Ok, ok, maybe... She skipped ahead. Another episode. One that Jim had never seen. That would settle her, surely?
...Or not. It seemed that her imagination had decided to add a Moriarty running commentary to every episode. So, so many crimes that these kids could have requested, and Jim would have been happy to provide. For the right price.
Disgusted, she closed her laptop with more energy than strictly necessary. Her tea almost spilled, and Toby jumped down with a glare. They were supposed to be settled, damnit!
"Sorry, Toby. But it looks like we need a new comfort show. Any suggestions?" She looked at her kitty then, as if expecting an actual answer. Damn. She needed another surefire way to relax, pronto, unless she wanted to end up in Bedlam.
Probably Sherlock would come asking for samples there, too.