Chapter 8
Around ten Sherlock and Molly found themselves alone in the kitchen in front of dessert plates, saucers, cups of coffee and various cutlery. The last guests to leave had been Mrs Hudson and Greg who had left Sherlock's flat for ten minutes. John had gone up to take Rosie to sleep in his old room and hadn't come down yet.
They both looked at the dishes to be washed and then looked at each other in the eye "Do we toss the coin or do we do as usual?" asked Molly, "In other words…I wash and rinse, you dry" Sherlock specified, "Exactly" she giggled as she grabbed a tea towel.
He rolled his eyes, pretending to snort, "At your orders" he said, taking sponge and detergent. They settled in front of the sink, side by side, "Sherlock" she said sounding in a hard place, "Yes?" he asked turning on the tap, "Um…I must confess you something". He looked at her in confusion "I've been in London for several days" she mumbled biting her lip, "I know. I saw you".
Sherlock smiled at her handing her a cup so that their fingers touched, Molly stood motionless "Oh!" she exclaimed pretending surprise, "And why didn't you call me?" she asked with her heart pounding in her chest.
He shrugged "Because I'm a detective…Mycroft, you and a child never seen before. An intriguing mystery!" he answered looking at her from the corner of his eyes, "And what did you find out?" Molly asked replacing the flatware she had already dried, "Not much, since you sent me to Manchester!" Sherlock retorted letting out a chuckle.
She made an amused grimace "Got your point…and this stopped you?", "To tell you the truth, no…but you already know this, don't you?" he said with a meaningful look, "What did you tell Wiggins that scared him to the point of lying to me?" he continued casually, "Nothing, I swear" she smiled at him as accepted another dish to dry, "I think he's simply more afraid of me than of you".
Sherlock burst into a cheerful laughter "I can hardly believe it! Did he really lose track of you at Kew Gardens?", she shrugged and nodded "More or less. I didn't want him to see where your bolt hole is". Sherlock stopped washing for a moment and asked her why she had gone there "To bring a gift. A pastime for when you need that place again", he raised his eyebrows and smiled slyly "Now you have piqued my curiosity".
"Well" she cleared her throat, "And to be clear…the other day Mycroft, Mrs Hudson and I were supposed to meet in a tearoom to plan for today's evening, but your brother has been summoned for an urgent meeting …so as not to stand up to Mrs Hudson, I asked him to bring home the little boy, who is the son of a friend who moved recently to London" Molly said trying to keep her tone of voice as neutral and casual as possible.
Sherlock looked down at her hiding a smirk. His brilliant brother evidently hadn't instructed her not to give too many explanations. The more details you provide, the less the story you tell is truthful. It was obvious that their gathering that evening had been used as a diversion, for him to believe that Molly's early return and her meetings with his brother were just to throw him a surprise party.
"Hey!" the snap of Molly's fingers in front of his eyes brought him back to reality, "Wake up, sleeping beauty!" she said giving him a playful elbow in the ribs, then gave him a mischievous smile leaning forward towards the tap.
Sherlock was taken aback by the splashes of water that hit his face and while he blinked from the droplets, Molly took the opportunity to splash him more water. He let go of the sponge and the plate in his hand in the sink and turned to look at her, "You know you're in big trouble, right?" she laughed heartily and walked away from Sherlock backing towards the table, "If I remember correctly, I won our last water fight!" Molly declared raising her chin to challenge him.
"Yes, you did" he admitted taking two steps in her direction "But here we are not in your flat, and you cannot wet the floor to make me slip and soak me with a glass full of water!", he took two more steps but she hadn't move an inch "Mm, am I that predictable?" Molly asked with a pretended crestfallen look.
"On the contrary, Molly. You are a constant surprise to me" he said, another step forward. Sherlock watched her to deduce what she had in mind but he could not see beyond the blush on her cheeks, her bright brown eyes, her lips full from her constant nibbling and her breast rising and falling according to the rhythm of her breath.
Sherlock was aware that since that famous Christmas party in Baker Street she had become much more careful about what she was revealing to him about herself, which made her harder to read.
Molly had been successful in hindering his deductions and for this reason for example Sherlock had not realized instantly, upon his return, that she had become engaged with Tom. Or he hadn't understood, until the revelation a few months earlier, that she had never stopped being in love with him. Just as now he couldn't figure out what was going on between her and his brother. Sherlock saw only what appeared before his eyes.
She backed away, "Do you think you can escape?" he asked amused stepping forward and reaching up to grab her wrist. Molly, suddenly, with her left hand took hold of him under his elbow and with her right hand she pinned his wrist, brought his arm behind his back and pushed him away, running to the other end of the table.
Sherlock found himself against the fridge, "I didn't hurt you, did I?" she asked him with a faint trace of mockery in her voice, he turned pleasantly wounded in his pride "Self-defence, Molly?", she shrugged "I took a class. Who better than you to practice?", he raised an eyebrow adjusting his trousers at his waist "Okay, I'm in" the tone of his voice, low and seductive.
John, walking down the stairs to get back to his friends, froze halfway hearing the laughter of Sherlock and Molly. Then he ventured a few more steps and leaned against the wall with his arms folded to watch them through the door perform foreplay. Yes, because their chasing each other around the table, their running away, their splashing water as soon as they approached the sink, in John's eyes was clearly foreplay.
Now that Sherlock was able to let go, it was plainly that there was a certain chemistry between them. If Sherlock alone with her has always been like this, it's obvious why she has never been able to move on, thought John to himself and looked at his friend, but the cold and calculating detective wasn't in that kitchen with Molly Hooper. There was simply a man in there. Defences down, vulnerable, ready to love and finally be loved.
John recovered from his thoughts and found them in each other's arms "I caught you! I won!" Sherlock was saying panting, Molly had both her hands on his chest, laughing and panting at the same time "You cheated! It's not fair to trip!", he ran a hand over his wet face "I remind you last time you let me slip" he said in a fake scolding tone interlacing the fingers of his hands behind her back.
Here we are!, thought John, their laughter had faded, the atmosphere was charged with electricity. Now he kisses her, he whispered to himself as soon as he realized Sherlock's head had started to descend towards hers.
And unexpectedly, Sherlock's phone ringtone interrupted the magic moment. Molly broke free from his embrace and he, bewildered and annoyed, grabbed the phone from the table, "Lestrade, I hope for you it's at least an eight to call me right now!" he growled as he answered the DI's call.
Within half an hour Sherlock and Molly were sitting in a cab headed to a private villa just outside London where a sixteen-year-old girl had been found dead after a mega classmate Christmas party. John had promptly suggested that Sherlock take Molly with him because he preferred to stay indoor with Rosie.
Sherlock had understood his friend's ploy and agreed with him. Molly had said yes and now sat silently beside him looking thoughtfully out the window. "I should call Mike" she said point blank turning her head towards him and Sherlock frowned "Stamford" she pointed out, "Do you want me to do the girl's autopsy?" Sherlock nodded, "So I had to call Mike and get authorized. My official return is set for January 2nd " she explained rummaging through her bag looking for her phone.
While Molly waited for her boss to answer her, from Sherlock's phone, tucked into the inside pocket of his Belstaff, came a well-known orgasmic moan. He felt his cheeks warm as he tried to keep an indifferent look but the cab driver's eyes on him through the rear-view mirror didn't make it easy.
He shifted uncomfortably in the seat, listening in stops and starts to the conversation between Molly and Stamford. When she was done Molly said "Look at Irene's text. Maybe she wants to make you Christmas wishes", sighing heavily he took out his phone and opening The Woman's text, he was stunned "No, actually, no Christmas wishes".
Sherlock turned and turned the device in his hands as if to get the best angle to observe what was in the text. Molly looked at him worried about what her secret friend might have sent him "What, then?" she asked with her heart in her mouth.
"A picture" he enlarged the image with his fingers, "A tattoo, I guess. A filter has been applied so it's not clear" he showed Molly the screen, "You can clearly see only the chess symbol of the king and queen, see?" she bit her bottom lip as she glanced, "There's something above each symbol, maybe a letter" Molly swallowed hard as he stubbornly narrowed his eyes on the picture.
"And you can't read the writing in which everything is enclosed", Sherlock touched a point on the screen "This is definitely a T, and this looks like a G…and it seems to be written ON at the end", he sighed as he slipped the phone back in his coat.
"Why do you think she sent it to you?" asked Molly keeping herself indifferent, "I don't need to think about it. Irene just told me" he asserted looking at her through the corner of his eye, "Meaning what?" peering up at him she heard her heart thudding in her ears, "A mystery to be solved" he replied, "But before Miss Adler's games, let's focus on this murder" he grumbled to himself and Molly nodded in relief at his decision, promising to herself to have a chat with The Woman as soon as possible.
