The hackney cab rambled on at a tortuously slow pace along the street leading through London back to Baker Street. The two occupants inside were silent and wary after a long day of travel and days away from home. Doctor John Watson sat chin dropping down as sleep overtook him. His esteemed partner, Sherlock Holmes sat still but alert, mindless of the city passing by and longing to be settled in the comforts of his home.
The case had been a kidnapping of a wealthy lord. Simple enough to determine it was his brother attempting to extort money to pay off gambling debts and a mistress threatening scandal. Further proof that women were a terrible influence on a man. That man allowed himself to be affected so by simple attraction and anatomy was appalling. Such weakness his sex had! To be swayed and brought low by a smile and their own lusts for a few moments pleasure. Oh what fools these mortals be...
The hackney pulled to a stop and Sherlock Holmes popped out and crossed around the cab, stilling as he reached the sidewalk. A light shown from the lower rooms of 221. A space that should have been empty. With a quick evaluation of his watch he ruled out of being young Archie. The lad was usually long sent to bed by this time of night to his own room beyond the kitchen with Mrs. Hudson not long behind him. Which meant there was someone in his house. An intruder.
John, from behind him was paying the cabbie and retrieving their bags, paid no attention to his friend standing on the sidewalk hitting him as he turned to follow him in. "Why the devil are you standing here on the walkway, Holmes! At least get the door!" The groggy man complained.
"There's a light coming from downstairs, Watson." He looked over his shoulder at the man. "Shall I see if our guest has found whatever they are looking for?" He quirked up a smile before reaching into his partners overcoat and retrieved the pistol that the good doctor always kept there.
"Oh, so I suppose that I'll see to Mrs Hudson and Archie then shall I?" The older man groused, more sore that he wasn't getting to be the one holding the made toward the front door while Watson made his way towards the rear of the residence placing deftly balanced steps on the staircase and slipped silently down. When he reached the lowest floor he paused and looked around for clues. Three sets of footprints went down. Archie's careless muddy imprint along with Mrs. Hudson's shoe shape, the gait making it obviously hers from her hip pain but the third set, those belonged to a younger woman in slippers.A woman who should not be there.
Both John and himself had begun to be approached by more and more brazen fanatic admirers with all sorts of flattery and their antics. Not three weeks past John had been drugged in an attempted seduction and entrapment. Two months prior to that a woman had come to the door claiming that she was his former lover and the child she carried was his own. Both where obsessive and sex crazed and both had reminded the bachelors that woman were dangerous creatures.A fact that he was well reminded of now as he approached the door where the light shone out of. This must be a bold and determined creature indeed to come into their home. Well, he would soon find out.
Pistol locked and loaded, but hidden inside his coat, Sherlock turned the handle and burst he found a small petite woman dressed only in her underthings, he shouted. "Who are you, and what the devil are you doing naked in my house, madam?" the woman screamed and lunged for her freshly hung dress to cover herself but the man darted after her and grabbed her arms, pulling them to his chest. "They'll be no escape Madame." He said, ice filling his voice as he pulled her close.
"Please, oh please let me go!" She begged. What was happening!
"Not until I find out what it was you are after. Were you going to attempt a seduction? I assure you that I have no interest in bedding you a'tall. So what then, you plan to defame me? Claim it was I who stole your virtue and led you astray? Ha!" The man's voice was deep, dangerous, and completely distracting. His features were fierce and hard as he glared at her like she was a vile insect. "Who are you, and whom do you work for? Tell me for what purpose?" He shook her, determined to get her to speak.
Molly tried to find a logical reasoning and understanding of what was going on. One moment she had been undressing for the night and now this man with a voice like she'd never heard the likes of before was holding her close while interrogating her as to what dark fiend she was supposedly plotting. "My aunt! I'm here at the bequest of my aunt, sir. Now please unhand me this instant!" Molly shrieked, terror reigning over her.
"Who is your aunt and why did she send you to gain my attention?" Molly noticed a slight hint of curiosity about him, as if her answer intrigued him but it was nothing compared to the anger rolling off the tall man. Such a tall man with such an angular face. Oh, but he must be Mr. Sherlock Holmes!
"Martha Hudson, sir. I am her niece, Molly... of whom she has asked to come and work with her. I am to be the new housemaid... Sir," She finished strongly and quietly. They each looked at one another, even as another set of boots thudded down the stairs.
"Sherlock, I believe there is no need for action. Mrs Hudson is safe and informs me that there is no intruder merely her..." John stopped as soon as he spotted the two entangled before him. "Oh." His eyes shot back and forth between each of them. "Well... It would seem you two have already met."
"Ah." He froze, sending steel grey eyes about her person making Molly feel keenly her lack of clothing. They both seemed to realize that the other posed no threat and he dropped her hands with such rapidness that Molly would have thought she had burnt himself, yet still he looked at her. What could he be seeing?
Shame and embarrassment swept over her as Molly attempted to cover herself from the men before her. She wished to have at least a a shaw in the room, as she has no dressing gown to cover herself.
"Eh, Sherlock, perhaps we should let the young lady get some rest?" Doctor Watson spoke with averted eyes to his companion.
"No, I shall not be able to retire myself until I've vetted this... Issue." He waved a hand almost dismissively at her. "Get dressed Miss and meet me in the lounge. You have five minutes and no more. Understood?"Nodding, Molly scarcely breathed as he dipped his head in acknowledgment towards her and backed out of the room, leaving it to slowly grow dimmer somehow.
Quickly, she pulled the same dress as she'd worn earlier off its peg and pulled it on. Fingers flying to do up its buttons, she realized how fast her time was passing. It was going to take her too long to do up the laces of her boots and her hair... There was no time to do more than push it over behind her shoulders. She paused and wondered if he'd dismiss her for her lack of proper dress. Or, would he do so if she took her time and arrived late. Molly shuddered to think of him glowering at her and questioning her.
Trusting promptness was the more important than quality she slipped, loose haired and barefooted, to meet the man upstairs. What a wild thought! Nervousness was making her nearly shake with each step. What would he ask of her, how to would she answer. Would he be able to see through her lies and half truths? Oh God, if she lost this position how would she find another? Perhaps she'd have to go to him after all to stay off the streets...No. Never that, and never to him for help. She would find a way to convince this Sherlock Holmes that she was capable and worthy. 'Are you though? Really? No, Molly, I think you're forgetting just how unremarkable and unnecessary you are', that voice mocked to her.
'No! You can do it Molly girl, I know you can. You just have to breathe.' That voice, the voice of her father was far more welcome to her. She did as he told her and breathed deeply, knocking on the lounge door.
"Enter," Boomed the voice of her new employer. Molly pulled the door and then looked at it, unsure of whether to close it or leave it open. Sherlock, no Mr. Holmes, looked at her and she knew he saw her indecision. He huffed and motioned for the door to remain open. "Well then..."
He looked at her questioningly. Oh her name! "Molly, sir."
"Molly, I appreciate your taking the time to get properly attired." The voice dripped with sarcasm and Molly felt her skin heat. As if she had been somehow acting indecently by getting changed in the privacy of her room. Then she noted that his strangely light eyes lingered on her hair down across her shoulders before starting almost knowingly at her hidden feet. Leaving it down had clearly been a mistake as had the shoes. Not a great start Molly...
"How long have you been staying here in my home then?" He spoke opening his coat to be seated.
"I think you'll find that this is still MY home, Mr. Holmes." The voice of Martha Hudson called in as she rushed into the room, hair up but wearing a dressing gown. Doctor Watson right behind her. "And that Molly is here at my bequest."
"So good of you to join us Mrs. Hudson, is the young lady to be living here as the new lady of the home, or is she to be a housemaid?" The man answered. Doctor Watson walked from behind her over to a decanter on a side table and began to pour two fingers of an amber colored liquor into a glass.
"I'm here to work, sir," Molly spoke firmly.
"And will your Aunt be paying you?"
"I... We haven't...," She faltered.
"Sherlock, you agreed that I needed help keeping up with the place," Mrs Hudson reminded.
"Yes, yes I did." He pushed off the desk and walked toward his landlady. "However, I made myself perfectly clear that you should call Sally Donavan for the position."
Mrs Hudson balked at the seated man. "To which I said I would consider. After I'd done so, I decided my niece was a more respectable option then a-"
"That's enough, Mrs Hudson!" Sherlock shouted. "If a new housemaid is to be employed, and I am to be paying her then she will need to be of use to me. I'll not have you and your prejudices dismiss a fine option." Molly blanched, he was rather unapologetic about his intentions with the maid. "And Sally is a fine intelligent woman who was ill-used by her former employer. That does not make her a woman of ill repute Mrs. Hudson, as you well enough know." He cast a significant glance at the older woman that made her huff and deflate mildly.
"She bore him a child, Sherlock. It's not simply something that can be dismissed as idle gossip or heresy. You can't deny that she has no husband, that she has a damaged reputation and would only bring contempt and shame to this already scandalous residence. Besides, you haven't met my Molly and I think she would suit your needs very well."
Molly's thoughts couldn't fathom what her aunt meant. Hadn't she herself said that the man seemed to have no interest in woman? Or perhaps he was just not fond of affairs of the heart? Did be simply use woman to get what he wanted then abandoned them? Did he want this Sally because he planned to take advantage of her like her previous employer? Another fresh wave of panic clenched her and she fought to keep her feet grounded, if she stayed would that be her?
"Why? Has she some hidden talent that I'll find useful?" He stood and walked closer to her. "Because all I see is a soft woman, unused to the hardships of housework. A woman who cries half the day in her grief over her father and her other losses. Financial difficulties and a failed romance was it? Did the gentleman no longer find you appealing when your father's debts became known and you no longer had his once good name to protect you. You are rather small and plain, perhaps a rival stole him away leaving you broken-hearted and alone, hmmm?
"The fact is Miss, that I simply don't think that you are qualified enough nor capable enough to be of use to my household or myself. I need people who are a more than just average and have their wits together." His light eyes looked hard as slate as they bore into her own. "Stay tonight and then in the morning we'll find you a new position somewhere, well anywhere else."
Doctor Watson himself was clearing his throat and giving his friend a significant look. "Now Sherlock,-" Mrs Hudson began before being cut off by Molly herself.
"No!" Molly cried. "Give me a chance please! Let me show you, I'll... I'll work hard and stay out of the way. You won't even know that I'm here at all. Please. You... You were right. I have nothing left. Nothing. No one save my aunt and young cousin. Please, give me one month to prove my value. I will work hard to please you. I beg you." She may have started her speech desperate and shrill, but she calmed herself and finished it strong.
The man before her studied her face to discern her honesty, finding no hidden duplicity, he shifted his eyes to his companion and waited for some signal. Molly didn't dare look over her shoulder though. Her eyes were too focused on gaining this man's favor and securing her fragile security. She was as she'd admitted, well and truly desperate to stay.
"We'll give you one week -."
"Two. Give me two weeks before you make a decision."
The corner of his mouth turned up, as if her bartering had amused him. "Agreed."
"Two weeks, bah. She'll be fine. What dramatics over a lot of nothing." Her aunt dithered.
"We shall see in two weeks won't we now, Mrs. Hudson?" The tall man answered. He strode away and nearly flopped back into the large leather chair. "You are dismissed, Molly. Mrs. Hudson, what are the chances that you have a sandwich or two that John and I could have. The food at the inn we stayed at was terrible."
Molly didn't stay in the room long enough to find out her Aunts response. She slipped into the hall and down the stairs toward the kitchen. Only making it to the steps when she felt her knees shake give in and she clung to the railing trembling to hold herself up. Pulling in breath after breath she tried in vain to cease. Hearing footfall behind her she turned, wild eyed to see her aunt coming towards her.
"Oh Molly, love. There there, it will all sort itself out. They'll see how capable you are. Shhh." Mrs. Hudson pulled her into a hug and soothed her hair. Oh, how long since someone had last stroked her hair lovingly! "Now, let's get you to bed. This all won't look so dim in the morning light as it does now."
To be honest, Molly had no idea if she'd agreed or argued it. But soon she found herself back at the room she was to call her own, if only for two mere weeks. She changed clothes distractedly but this time no interruptions came and she slid into bed. Closing her eyes, she listened to her pulse race as she finally allowed a moment to relax. She had time to prove her capabilities. Time enough to learn. This was possible, she'd make it so. She had done things in the past that she never thought she could. This was just another task to conquer.
She would prove her worth to them all and him in particular. And as she drifted to sleep she found herself considering him and just what color those beautiful eyes had been.
A/N: Thank you for the amazing response to this fic. The idea has been in my head for the longest of time and I am enjoying where it's been leading. An Especial thanks to my Dear darling Beta, TheNewJefferson who gives so much in her edits. My works is greatly polished by her and her insight.