A/N: Here is my Sherlolly Secret Santa gift for theconsultingstrangevidder. Rated K+ Victorian Uni!lock, anyone?
"Women's brains are no different than men's brains," Sherlock proclaimed with a sneer for the idiot masquerading as a Professor of Chemistry. "Miss Hooper's presence is a welcome one, if only to prove you wrong, sir!"
Molly's cheeks flushed with additional heat, this time from pleased embarrassment rather than mortification. Of all people to come to her defense, never would she have expected it of the brash, dismissive Mr. Holmes the younger!
Professor Magnussen raised an eyebrow but made no other response to Sherlock's outburst. Rather, he pointedly turned his attention away from Holmes and resumed his lecture.
Afterwards, as their fellow students began exiting the room, Molly waited for him by the doors. "Thank you," she said, in that soft, diffident manner she had. "I, I appreciate your defense of me earlier, Mr. Holmes."
He offered her a stiff, polite bow, but the expression on his face was anything but pleasant. "Do not thank me, Miss Hooper," he snapped. "Rather, continue to prove your worthiness to participate in our studies by providing the same level of meticulous, well-reasoned research you have been offering since the start of term."
Molly, left speechless at his abruptness, found herself staring at his retreating back as he vanished into the crowd of students in the draughty corridor.
oOo
"I would not dwell on his rudeness," her dear friend Mary advised her with a smile when she confided in her later that evening, after they had returned to their shared rooms. "My John says he is always that way, which surely you must know having spent the better part of the term sharing classes with him!"
"Classes to which he makes an appearance only on his own schedule," Molly retorted. "Were he clearly not brilliant he would be sent down for his absences, let alone for…" her voice dropped to a whisper despite the fact that they were alone, "...let alone for his...other indiscretions."
Mary's smile vanished; her expression sharpened and her eyes hardened as she stared at her friend. "And where have you heard of these discretions, Margaret Anne Hooper?" she demanded. "Who has been pouring such poisonous gossip in your ears?"
Molly flushed, but held her head high as she replied, "No one has, Mary, only my own keen skills of observation. Surely your John has noted the pallor, the slight tremors in his hands, the characteristic redness of his eyes and nose? Mr. Holmes, although brilliant, is also something of an, an idiot! He will destroy that fine mind of his unless he gives up his vices, or at least, the one involving the use of a syringe and a 5% solution of cocaine!" She gave an emphatic nod at Mary's startled expression. "Yes, I am aware of Mr. Holmes' particular vice, Mary, and I only wish I had the courage to confront him on it, or the ability to show him how ruinous such activities can be!"
"Your concerns are duly noted, Miss Hooper. However, I should note that it is actually a 7% solution, not 5%."
Both women turned and made abortive movements to rise from their seats (Mary, Molly noted rather abstractedly, pulling a rather frightening looking knife from the pocket of her dressing-gown). Molly settled back down as she found herself looking up at the very subject of their discussion. Their private discussion, in their rooms! How dare he enter without announcing himself!
She found her indignation fading, however, upon his very next words. "I am sorry, Molly Hooper, forgive me the intrusion." An apology, from Mr. Sherlock Holmes? Directed at her? Surely the End of Days were upon them! "If you would permit me to continue?" He gestured with his hat toward Mary, who blinked and slid her knife back into her pocket.
"Please come in Mr. Holmes," she said formally, even though Molly knew quite well that she and the man in question were on friendlier terms due to their mutual regard for her beau, Mr. John Watson, currently pursuing his medical studies at Oxford. "I believe you and Miss Hooper require some privacy for this discussion, but of course propriety demands that I remain to act as chaperone should your masculine nature overcome your more gentlemanly instincts."
Molly and Sherlock both gawped at her outrageous words, Molly once again flushing a furious red as her friend smiled, waved, and made her less than dignified way out of the sitting area and into her own bedroom - rather ostentatiously leaving the door ajar.
Silence filled the room in Mary's absence, Molly feeling entirely on the back foot with this whole situation - having been caught discussing a mutual acquaintance's unsavory drugs habit seemed rather dog-in-the-manger after he'd come so gallantly to her defence in their chemistry lecture!
Still, there was nothing for her to do but endure whatever words Mr. Holmes might have for her. So she nodded when he moved into the room, closing the door (mostly) behind him, and waited for her permission before taking the seat Mary had so recently vacated.
His hat remained on his lap, his ungloved hands fidgeting a bit with the brim as he kept his gaze turned on the carpet beneath their feet. Just when Molly felt she needed to say something, anything, to break the awkward silence, he spoke. "Miss Hooper, I apologize not only for bursting in on you and Ma- Miss Morstan as I did, both unannounced and uninvited, but also for my behaviour earlier today."
"Your behaviour earlier was exemplary, I assure you!" Molly exclaimed in surprise. "You defended my presence in the lecture hall - and yes, you were somewhat curt in your manner afterwards when I attempted to thank you, but, well, that is your nature, is it not?" She tried a small laugh, wincing inwardly when it sounded to her ears as more of a nervous titter than a friendly attempt to put him at his ease. Oh, social skills were not her forte and never had been!
"It is my nature, that is true," he said frankly, finally raising his eyes to meet hers. "I am dismissive and impatient and, as John has put it on more than one occasion, a bit of an arse, but I do make an effort to be less...myself...when interacting with those for whom I...that is, for my...friends."
"You can do better than that, Holmes!" came Mary's muffled shout from the other room, startling a gasp from Molly and a chuckle from Mr. Holmes.
"Yes, I can!" he called back, then turned his attention once again to Molly, his demeanor softening into something she might have dared to call affectionate on the face of another man. Without knowing why, her heart was pounding in her chest; she clutched her hands together to keep them from nervously twisting her skirts, and kept her eyes trained on his as he once again began to speak.
"Miss Hooper, everything you have observed about me, from my boorish manner to my unfortunate dabbling in chemical means to slow the frantic workings of my mind, is true." He took a deep breath. "However, what you have failed to observe is my growing...affection. For you. As a friend and, one day, I hope, something more."
Molly's breath seemed to catch in her throat at so unexpected, so thrilling, a confession from the very man for whom she had harboured a not-so-secret tendresse since first laying eyes on him, since first observing his brilliance, since first hearing his voice, no matter how scathing his words.
She opened her mouth to tell him so. To offer him encouragement, and to speak her own feelings aloud.
Instead, to her amazement, she found herself saying, "I will not allow myself to form any sort of, of romantic attachment of a permanent nature to a man who allows himself to fall into dissolution, Mr. Holmes. Once you have rid yourself of this unfortunate habit and found some other way to still your thoughts other than through chemical means so damaging to your mind, we might...speak again of this matter."
Where, she wondered, had such strong words come from? Surely some higher Power must have taken possession of her, mousy Molly Hooper? Molly Hooper who rarely stood up for herself; Molly Hooper who had had to be talked into taking up her true academic interests by her dear friends Mary and Mina when her own mother had tried to urge her against furthering her education after her father's death?
Well. She straightened her spine. No more of that, thank you very much! "Have we reached an agreement, Mr. Holmes?" she asked, looking him straight in the eye and ignoring the flutter of nerves in her stomach as she awaited his answer.
He smiled and rose to his feet, holding out one hand, accepting hers as she returned the gesture, clasping it firmly in his. "We do indeed, Miss Hooper. Molly, if I may be so bold."
"You may," she said, suddenly shy, averting her eyes. She let out a squeak of alarm as he suddenly pulled her to her feet, his face only inches from hers. "Mr. Holmes!"
"A kiss to seal the deal, Molly," he said lowly, searching her gaze and smiling when she gave him the tiniest of acquiescing nods. Then his lips descended, covered hers in a chaste, but lingering, press of his mouth against hers. "And do call me Sherlock," he implored her in a whisper when the kiss ended.
"Sherlock," she whispered, somewhat in a daze, and felt his lips briefly against hers once again.
Moments later he was gone and she was once again seated, wondering what had happened to bring all this on while Mary giggled and pressed her for details.
All she could say was that she believed she and Mr. Holmes - Sherlock - had reached an arrangement.
An arrangement she quite looked forward to altering once he had met her terms!