Note: Pardon any mistakes you may find. I confess I took a huge liberty with Victorian English, but the truth is, I have a very limited experience with Victorian English and I tried to make some research before publishing. Again, all the mistakes are completely mine.
Day 1: "There's only one bed?!". Victorian Sherlolly.
"There's only one bed?!" Molly exclaimed, her voice mortified.
"Yes?" Sherlock replied nonchalantly.
"But that's not…..appropriate." the lady continued, looking suspiciously at the empty bed that occupied a big space of their shared chamber.
"What is the matter, Dr. Hooper?" Sherlock asked impatiently.
Molly turned her head abruptly to glare at him, "The matter is that you, Mr. Holmes, have insisted I join you in the escapade to catch this murderer in Sussex, but you did not care much to arrange proper accommodations."
"It was a last-minute trip." Sherlock shrugged.
"Your brother is literally the British Government."
"And?"
"And he could have arranged for us to have two separate bedchambers other than being crammed together in one chamber".
Sherlock shot her an amusing look.
"..With ONE BED!"
"Well, pardon me if I couldn't tell the receptionist that you are in fact Dr. Margaret Hooper, not Dr. Matthew Hooper, and that you are indeed a lady, not a gentleman, which means we cannot share the same chamber, let alone the same bed."
"You could have asked for two separate bedchambers without indulging the gentleman in the details of my own identity." Molly argued, her hands on her hips, still wearing the man-attire she always wore when she was disguised as Dr. Matthew Hooper, the prestigious Pathologist of Saint Bartholomew Hospital in London.
"Like I said, it was a last-minute trip and this was the only chamber left."
"Then you shouldn't have invited me." Molly shouted.
"You are right. Maybe I should not!'" Sherlock shouted back.
They both breathed heavily, and stared at each other.
"You are taking the couch." Molly finally broke the silence.
"Of course not." Sherlock huffed, "It is small and I am tall."
"Fine. I shall take the couch." Molly uttered, glancing at the couch and actually seeing Sherlock's point.
It is small and will not fit him.
"NO!" Sherlock responded instantly. He regained his composure by clearing his throat, "I mean, it looks uncomfortable."
"It is indeed less uncomfortable than sharing a bed with a sir."
Sherlock bit his lower lip nervously, "The bed is wide, we can…"
"Don't you dare complete that line of thought." Molly interrupted firmly.
"Come on, Dr. Hooper. You are a woman of science." Molly arched an eyebrow questionably, and Sherlock couldn't deny that the sight was endearing; Molly in men's attire, a fake moustache, but talking using her feminine voice was a sight to behold.
"We can just put a barrier between us; a pillow or something." Sherlock continued, pointing to the bed.
"I promise I shall be a total gentleman." Sherlock continued teasingly, though his voice and smile were gentle.
Molly huffed, "You should have worked on that when you were booking our accommodations."
Sherlock's smile dropped and he closed his eyes in exasperation, "Oh, Dear Lord!"
Molly raised her hands in a placating manner, "Fine, fine." Sherlock opened his eyes and watched her, waiting for what the lady would say next. Molly took a deep breath and continued, "But on one condition."
Sherlock stood still waiting for the condition.
"I will lock you in the bathroom until I change and get under the covers."
"Excuse me?" Sherlock demanded, taken aback.
"You heard me." Molly shrugged then continued, "I will not sleep in this attire and it is not appropriate for you to see me in my….night robes."
Sherlock tilted his head.
"My feminine night robes." Molly explained, her cheeks getting redder. Suddenly, she felt embarrassed that she couldn't keep eye contact with him. SO, instead, her eyes landed on her suitcase before declaring softly, "I did not know I will be sharing a chamber with…anyone else, so, I brought my normal night robes."
Sherlock's eyes followed hers, eyeing her suitcase that lied on the wooden floor next to his, before quietly murmuring, understanding the source of her distress, "Alright." He picked his suitcase, then turned around, heading to the bathroom and closing the door behind him. A few moments later, he heard the sound of a key locking the door from the outside. He took a deep breath and whispered, "Whatever helps this night end faster."
And that's how Sherlock found himself, thirty minutes later, still locked in the adjoint bathroom, along with his suitcase. He has already changed into his silk pyjamas and his silk robe-de-chambre, and was now leaning against the sink, waiting for her to announce that the chamber was clear for him to step in.
Sherlock tapped his fingertips angrily against the sink, his patience growing thin by the second. When he could stand no longer, he walked to the locked door and shouted, "What in God's name are you doing? It has been over thirty minutes."
"I am almost finished." Came Molly's muffled voice through the think wooden door.
Less than a minute later, Sherlock heard the key unlocking the door, followed by Molly's hurried voice, "Don't come out until I tell you."
Sherlock rubbed his eyes tiredly, hoping to end this dilemma and head to bed for some much-needed rest. Before dwelling on whether it was a right idea to bring Dr. Hooper with him on such a dangerous adventure, he heard her voice again, "You can come out now."
Sherlock picked up his suitcase, then quietly opened the bathroom door and walked to the chamber. His eyes instantly landed on the bed, where Molly was huddled under the thick covers, only her little brown head was shown, and her brown eyes were staring at him widely, like she was watching and waiting for his next move. Sherlock's eyes next landed on the stack of pillows that were placed methodically in the middle of the bed, dividing it into two separate sleep territories.
Sherlock took a deep breath and exhaled it slowly before saying quietly, "Alright then." He placed his suitcase on the floor, and without another word, he took off his silk robe-de-chambre, noticing how Molly quickly averted her eyes from his form, then he placed the soft fabric at the near-by armchair, before quietly slipping under the covers, praying for all the Gods he never believed in to bless them with a peaceful night without any more tension.
Twenty-five minutes later and both Sherlock and Molly were still staring at the ceiling. The tension was so thick they could slice it with a knife.
It was Sherlock who broke the insufferable silence first, "I think I should take the couch."
Molly's eyes snapped to meet his and said quietly yet firmly, "No, it is alright."
"You are tense." Sherlock stated.
"We both are. Don't deny it." Molly argued softly.
Sherlock swallowed heavily and turned on his side to face her, still keeping the distance, "I apologize, Molly. I honestly didn't mean to cause you any discomfort. It was in earnest a last-minute trip and this was the only room available."
"It's alright. I understand." Molly said delicately.
"No, it is not. You think I am using the fact that I know your real identity in order to tease you." Sherlock replied, frowning and suddenly feeling angry with himself for not planning thoroughly, and for making her doubt his good intentions.
"No, that's not true." Molly repeated firmly, willing him to understand that she knew the truth, despite the uncomfortable position they were in. "The truth is, I have never shared a room with a stranger, let alone a strange man. To the outside world, I am a man, yes. But, I am actually a woman," then she stared into in the eyes before adding, "a virtuous woman, if I might add."
"You don't. I mean you don't need to explain." Sherlock replied quickly. He didn't want her to think that he thought less of her for accepting to share a bed with him.
"You are an honourable woman, Molly Hooper. And I know you might not believe me, but I respect you beyond your imagination. Everything you do, everything you fight for, they fascinate me. You fascinate me, Molly Hooper, and nothing in the whole world will make me think less of you." Sherlock said in a gentle voice.
Molly blinked a few times before asking tentatively, "Do you mean those words?"
"Yes." Sherlock replied without hesitation.
His quick yet honest answer drew a smile on her face, "Well, your words have made me very glad. Thank you for thinking highly of me."
"You are welcome." Sherlock said, with a smile matching her own.
"Well, I think it is time for us to get some rest. We have a long day tomorrow." Molly finally said, ending their short but dear moment of truth, and although the room was almost dark, Sherlock could swear he saw Molly wink at him.
"The game is afoot, Mr. Holmes."
And without waiting for his reply, she turned around, facing the window, and willed herself to get some sleep before the beginning of the new day, and urging the butterflies in her stomach to get some rest, too.
For five whole minutes, Sherlock just gazed at the back of Molly's brown head, occasionally fighting the urge to extend his arm and touch her hair that she braided for bed. Finally, he closed his eyes, taking Molly's advice. Before fully drifting to sleep, he murmured, "Have a good night, Molly." And though it was the first time he called her with her maiden name, and though he knew was asleep by now, he silently hoped she could hear him.