A/N: I am now in S2 in my rewatch so saw ASiB recently and - for the first time - noticed that Sherlock gets this look when John mentions Molly as part of his plan. Naturally, I decided to write something about it. It didn't quite turn out how I'd hoped and I'm not sure that I'm entirely happy with it, but I thought I'd share it anyway. In some ways this probably works as a companion piece to 'Welcome Distraction', but...enough babbling. Hope you enjoy it :)
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Dangerous Distraction
"Molly Hooper," John said in a flash of inspiration and Sherlock found himself having to resist the urge to strangle him.
His hard stare intensified as John continued to outline his plan: now he'd not only revealed the pathologist's name, but also her place of work.
Despite his – not wholly feigned, but definitely exaggerated – interest in The Woman, he didn't trust her and, after the threat from Jim Moriarty, he wasn't taking any chances with anyone's safety.
Especially not after what happened with Mrs Hudson.
He suppressed a shudder as he contemplated the possibility of something similar happening to Molly.
Although he avoided acknowledging that she meant anything to him – even in his own mind – he couldn't deny that it had been her he'd thought of when threatened. That if anything happened to her it would burn the heart out of him.
The trick now was making sure that no one ever came close to figuring that out. Preferably through never even knowing she existed. A plan now foiled – however unknowingly – by John.
"Very good, John," Sherlock complimented him sarcastically, zoning back into the present as John finished outlining his suggestion. "Excellent plan, with intelligent precautions."
John blinked, but looked pleased, "Thank you." He reached for his phone, "So, why don't…" he trailed off as he saw Sherlock pull Irene's camera phone from his pocket.
In light of their current predicament, Sherlock chose to ignore the fact that John had Molly's number, but he filed the information away for later investigation. Besides, feigning indifference would be the only way to ensure that Irene didn't retain any of the information about Molly that John had just handed her.
Pushing all thoughts of Molly aside, Sherlock turned his attention back to Irene and the puzzle she presented.
A puzzle that ended up being relatively simple – as did she – when he realised that, although she was clearly intelligent, much of their battle of wits had really been between him and Moriarty. She wasn't special, she was just another pawn in whatever game Moriarty was playing with him.
Well, we all do silly things.
Molly's words came back to him as – days? Weeks? Months? He wasn't entirely sure – later he listened to John explain about The Woman. As though he would even care about her whereabouts.
He'd done a silly thing in allowing people to believe he cared for her more than he did. But, then again, their pity over what they thought was his broken heart was infinitely better than what they'd do if they suspected the truth.
It was, however, a convenient foil for why he'd asked for her phone. John thinking he wanted a means to remember her was much simpler than needing it to see what clues about Moriarty he could glean from it.
"The Woman," he murmured thoughtfully as he put the phone in a drawer, remembering the night he'd saved her life. He blinked as a thought struck him, "The woman," he muttered, shutting the drawer and walking away, suddenly reminded of some very pressing business he still had to attend to.
Caring is not an advantage.
Mycroft's words flittered through his mind as, much later, Sherlock sat curled up in a chair with John's phone. He chose to ignore them as he cracked the relatively simple passcode and scrolled through the phone in search of John's messages.
Love is a dangerous disadvantage, he reminded himself sternly as his thumb hovered over the messages John had received from Molly. His jaw tightened as he continued to lecture himself mentally: It is the most dangerous emotional of all. It produces many other emotions: jealousy, shame, rage, grief. You must learn to suppress them all, otherwise they will consume you.
"Caring is not an advantage," he muttered, putting the phone aside and sitting up.
He took a deep breath and reached for his violin instead, plucking absently at the strings as he glared at the phone in front of him.
It had been a momentary lapse in his control that had caused him to remember his annoyance at John having Molly's number and to subsequently steal his phone. He could forgive himself for the lapse, but actually reading the texts would be an unpardonable pandering to his emotions.
He didn't care what they had been discussing and he certainly wasn't bothered by the fact that they had been communicating without him being aware of it.
You must learn to suppress them all, he reminded himself as he struggled to ignore his emotional response to the thought of their private communication.
He stifled a growl as he snapped one of the strings on his violin.
He did care and he had to know.
Setting his violin aside, he picked up the phone and opened the messages. He almost sagged with relief as he realised they were all completely innocuous.
At least they were until he reached the end of their conversation, dated to when Irene had faked her death.
JW: I've never seen him like this. I don't know what to do.
MH: Maybe you don't need to do anything. Just let him work this out in his own time.
JW: Has he ever even dealt with something like this before?
MH: I don't know.
JW: How do we not know?
MH: You say that like Sherlock would share something like that with me. I don't count. I never have.
John never responded to her last message and Sherlock felt a little ashamed at the thought that, given his behaviour, John might agree with Molly's assessment.
He'd never meant to give her – or anyone else – the impression that she didn't count at all, just that she didn't count enough. It had been the only way he could think of to keep her safe, but now he wondered if he'd done so in order to keep himself safe.
Love was a defect. A dangerous disadvantage that would lead to those he cared about being used as a means of manipulating him. His friendship with John had already left him open to such manipulation. If Molly had been the one in danger on any of those occasions he doubted that he'd be able to even attempt to bluff his way out.
She already had an uncanny ability to disrupt his reasoning and equilibrium as it was.
He couldn't afford to lose his focus, even for a moment, or there could be unimaginable consequences. He'd slipped up by pretending to feel more for Irene than he actually did, he couldn't afford to do the same with Molly.
Especially not when his heart was even more deeply involved. Who knew what might happen if he allowed it to rule his actions instead of his head.
He took a deep, steadying breath and closed John's phone, metaphorically closing off his emotions at the same time. Caring was a disadvantage and it wouldn't do any good to pretend that wasn't the case.
No matter how much the pretence cost him, he couldn't put her in danger.