A.N: Hey my friends.
I wanted to take a minute to thank carri007, Renaissancebooklover108, Brytte Mystere and SammyKatz for your reviews. You can give yourself a pat in the back my friend as you are the one keeping me going. Thanks to Georgia the best beta ever.
Anyways I hope you will like this chapter.
Steffy2106
Chapter 5:
"What are you doing?" Asked, John entering 221B.
"Waiting for you two," said Sherlock not looking up from what he was working on. "This is turning into quite the dilemma."
"The case?" Asked Mary with curiosity.
"No, this table's plan."
Mary rolled her eyes. "Chill out, Sherlock, I'm the bride to be but you're the one stressing."
"I'm not stressing, Mary! But I do think that perhaps some of the tables are not properly arranged..."
Mary sat beside him and patted his arm. "The marriage is two months away, Sherlock."
Sherlock turned to her. "Yes I know, but… why would you want your cousin Imogene to sit on the table closest to you when she obviously despises the idea of you getting married?"
"Here we go…" John grumbled settling in his chair. "I'm just going to sit there and enjoy being ignored for a while."
"Look at the RSVP. Red pen, upside down stamp, crinkled card and coffee stains. She obviously doesn't care about this wedding." Sherlock turned to John. "You can try to figure out a way to get the priest's DNA, you're a doctor after all. So what do we do about Cousin Imogene?" He asked, concentrating on Mary again and not even bothering to wait for John's answer.
Mary reached for the little name tag. "Welcome to table 9 Imogene, enjoy the loo odours."
Sherlock smiled. "Wise choice."
"Who else hates me or my wedding or my fiancé?" She asked, glaring at the list of names on the table.
"Why do we need the priest's DNA?"
"What?"
John sighed. "Sherlock, focus for a minute… The case alright? We can talk about the wedding later."
"Hey!" Mary exclaimed in fake indignation. "He is right, though." She said with a grimace, bumping Sherlock's shoulder with her own.
"Molly discovered the victim was pregnant, I'm sure the priest was the father. And yes John, before you ask, I know how babies are made and I am sure that the priest and the victim had regular sexual intercourse."
Mary looked down with a small smile on her lips. She was dying to know if Sherlock Holmes was an actual virgin, as John had always presumed he was but nobody had ever had the guts to ask him. Maybe she would do it one day, if she was drunk enough for that sort of conversation.
Sherlock pointed to a few names on the list and let Mary reorganize the tables. "I want to talk about something important."
"Yes?" John said standing up.
Sherlock kneeled by the sofa and pulled something out from under it. "What about the napkins?" he said pointing to four napkins all folded differently.
John rolled his eyes and shot a pleading look at Mary.
"You did that?!"
Sherlock nodded.
"Where did you learn to do that?"
"I'm a man of many skills." Sherlock replied haughtily.
"Sherlock…" She trailed off.
He sighed. "Youtube. I was stuck in the case; I thought maybe thinking about something else would help."
"And did it?"
Sherlock shook his head. "Molly did."
"Molly?" Asked John, cocking his head.
"Yes I went to see her this morning at home."
"You don't go to people houses unannounced, Sherlock."
"I do that to you all the time!"
"Yes, but it's because we're used to you." Said Mary with a small smile.
Sherlock shrugged, bringing the folded napkins on the table. "Molly Hooper didn't seem to mind, her fiancé ion the other hand..."
John and Mary exchanged a look.
"What?" Asked Sherlock, his eyes flickering from one to the other.
"Why don't you two go investigate the priest's sex life while I go over the different napkin folding styles?" She cocked her head to one side and chuckled. "That's a sentence I never thought I would say."
"Yes Sherlock, Lestrade really needs us to solve that case."
Sherlock nodded. "Very well, let's go to the church."
"Lestrade told you to stay away from the priest."
"Lestrade is not as smart as I am. I know what I'm doing John."
"So, Molly huh?" said John, as they settled in the cab.
"Yes, why?"
"Nothing it's just… You never went to her place before, ever."
"I never felt like the need to go to her place before. You were not available; I needed someone to help me think."
"Could you have tried to find someone else? You're mostly the one doing all the work during our brainstorming sessions."
"Maybe it is the case but I still need someone of a good mental capacity to throw me an idea that is not completely absurd every once in a while. Who did you want me to go see, eh? Scotland Yard? I have never seen so many intellectually impaired beings grouped together under one roof. No, if it's not you it has to be Molly."
"Did you go see her only to help you think?"
Sherlock eyes narrowed when they connected with John's. "Why else would I go see her, John?"
John shrugged. "I don't know, you seemed closer that I first thought you were. I mean, she is the one you chose to confide in when you faked your death. That's no small thing."
"Is that what it is, John? You're jealous?" Sherlock shook his head. "I told you that it had to be her."
"What? No, No!" John grimaced with incredulity. "That's the stupidest thing I have ever heard! No, I was wondering if you were jealous."
"Jealous? Of what?"
"Tom."
"Tom?"
John sighed. "Are you blocking him or what? Molly's fiancé."
"Why would I be jealous of him?"
"Because he has Molly."
"I want Molly Hooper for her brain and nothing more. What this man wants her for is of no interest to me."
"But you know things won't change between us, right? I might be getting married soon, but you are still my best friend. Mary knows how important you are to me and I'll always be there for you."
"Thank you, John. Where did that confession come from?"
"Nowhere, I just wanted you to know."
"I am aware of this fact. Mary likes me and I am quite fond of her too. She is by far the least irritating of your girlfriends and she is the first I view as being good enough for you." Sherlock tapped his forefinger to his chin. "Thinking about it, she's the first of your numerous conquests that I didn't imagine killing."
"That's comforting." John mumbled as the cab stopped. "What are you going to do?" He added, trailing after Sherlock.
"I feel the need to confess myself." Sherlock said with a small smile, as if he were making a joke that John didn't understand.
John looked around the church before looking back at Sherlock. "Uh…"
"What is it John?"
"I thought churches were supposed to repel evil and yet here you are standing, healthy and well."
"Very funny, John." Sherlock shook his head. "I will see you in a little while."
"What do you want me to do in the meanwhile?"
"What you do the best." Sherlock replied, walking into the confessional without another word.
Sherlock was still pondering the discussion he had with John in the cab when he heard the little sliding door of the confessional open.
"Hello my child, how long at is been since your last confession?"
Sherlock recognized the priest's voice and leaned back with a small smile, making sure the priest couldn't see him.
"Quite a while."
"What's on your mind?"
"There is a woman…" Sherlock grinned as he figured out how to play the priest.
"Go on."
"And she is all wrong for me. I'm not supposed to want her and yet it's like I can't stop myself. She's a weakness, I worked so hard for so long and I thought I was okay, that I would never face this temptation in life but it was until I met her. I knew that if I let go and obey this drive there would be hell to pay and yet I did it. It made me weak and strong at the same time, every time I said it would be the last, but I was going back to her, like a drug addict to his fix." By this time Sherlock wasn't smiling anymore. Actually, he wasn't sure he liked the weird feeling that was settling in the pit of the stomach. Something he'd never felt before…. a sort of recognition, as if he were telling the truth. Which was absurd.
"Was she married?" Asked the priest, and Sherlock didn't miss how broken his voice sounded. He was thinking about Ms. Potter, no doubt about that, which confirmed Sherlock's suspicion. The priest was in love.
"No she wasn't. What I don't understand though is if you loved her so much, then why aren't you helping us to catch her killer? She was pregnant, did you know that?"
The priest remained silent for so long that Sherlock almost thought he was gone.
"You're lying" he finally murmured.
"No I am not. I don't believe in your global delusion of a benevolent God guiding us, but I wouldn't go as far as to lie in a place considered as sacred. No, actually I might, I probably would, but it's not the case here. I can show you the autopsy report, she was ten weeks pregnant."
When the priest remained silent, Sherlock decided to continue. Silence was as good as he was going to get. At least the priest hadn't left.
"Don't worry, there's no way for the police to be smart enough to figure this one out, and there is even less likelihood for them to get enough evidence to back up a warrant unless they suddenly gain 50 more IQ points and search your past to see how you were linked with Ms. Potter… but there is as much chance of that happening than there is of your god actually existing. Because you've known her for many years, didn't you? Even before you decided to become a priest, she had always been dear to you but far out of your reach. I believe your family was working for hers and you were always longing but she never even saw you."
"No, she saw me, but her family didn't approve, and when the time came to make a choice between them and I…" He sighed.
Sherlock hated the fact he couldn't see him. Sherlock used all his senses to deduce people and now he only had to believe the tone and words, nothing accurate enough for him. "She chose them." Sherlock deduced.
"Yes…"
"Why don't you tell the truth? The police won't find you, are you scared to lose your place? Isn't her life at least worth that much? I believe she came that night to tell you about the baby. Doesn't it mean something to you?"
"I wish it were that easy. There is much more at stake here than just my place. I would hang up my robe and walk away in a heartbeat if it meant avenging Lindsey's murder. He is the only thing that matters, it is her, it was always her. Nothing else matters now, but I can't just – It's too dangerous. We can't talk here. There are ears everywhere."
"Fine. Where do you want to meet?"
"Hyde Park. 9:30 pm, beside the east gate. I'll bring you some things."
"Perfect."
"I loved her, you know."
Sherlock moved to face the priest through the little opening. "No, I don't know. But if you come through and help me catch her killer, maybe it will matter."
That night Sherlock and John were about to take a cab to Hyde park when John's phone started to ring.
"It's Lestrade." He said, frowning.
"You didn't tell him about our meeting did you? I need to see if it is anything relevant first."
John shook his head. "Of course I didn't, who do you think I am?!"
Sherlock opened his mouth.
John shook his head. "No, don't answer that." He answered his phone. "Lestrade, what can I do for you?" John nodded, "umm I see. Okay…. Thanks. Yes, first thing in the morning."
"What did he say?"
"There is no point on going to our meeting now."
"Why is that?" Asked Sherlock, burying his hands in the pockets of his coat.
"Because our priest has been found dead, hanged in his room."