Okay, first off, sorry about my super stroppy A/N on the previous chapter... Man, I was in a mood. I'm usually a pretty chill girl, but please understand how hard (and long) I've worked on this fic and I think you'll get why I'm a bit touchy about certain aspects of my content. I don't take this lightly. I want it to be good and have written (and rewritten) it for years to that end.
Right, so here's chapter six. It's short, but chapters seven and eight are beta'd and ready to post (MizJoely is The Best) and should be up this week. I won't hold them hostage for reviews... but I would appreciate you showing the love... really, I would! I'm not above begging!
Remember my thanks and warnings.
I own nothing. Enjoy ~Lil~
Chapter - 6 - Cleopatra's Cat (The Spin Doctors)
She was going to punch him or at least slap him. He had completely forgotten about drugging the tea; it was just a back-up in case she refused to sleep in his bed that night - and why was that so important?. It had slipped his mind once he'd received call Lestrade. Slipping, Sherlock? a voice asked. But no, he wasn't slipping, simply distracted. Well, no matter; at least she'd gotten another good night's sleep. She's going to remove your head from your neck, you know that don't you?
Picking up his coffee (not tea, certainly not tea!), he sighed as he tried to focus. Though his body was tired, his mind was not.
He should have crawled into bed beside her since he hadn't slept for over forty-eight hours, but he was still too wired from the case. So instead he planned. He had told Lestrade to give him a night off every two days (unless he managed a 9, of course). That seemed reasonable and it would give him and Molly time to play.
Fortunately, he had already placed some orders in the three weeks since she'd moved in (hence the riding crop) and had most of the equipment that he would need (and probably some that he didn't, but it couldn't hurt to be prepared).
He was being upfront with Molly; he had told her what he knew was going on with 'the situation', though not in detail. There was no use in bogging her down with useless information. Once he had a more solid lead, he'd fill her in. After all the emotional upheavals of the day, he had decided not to show her the photos. More worry was the last thing his wife needed.
He had also been honest about his motivation for their physical relationship… for the most part. Oh, he was aware that he was using her - fulfilling some long suppressed need as well as making him feel less alone - but she would benefit, so he felt little guilt about it. Once he figured out who was behind all of this and took care of them, they would divorce and she would take their experiences with her. This would enable her to better know what to look for in a partner. Never again would she find herself tied to some narrow-minded oaf who could not (or would not) fulfill her emotional and sexual needs. At the same time, it enabled him to expand his own horizons. Not to mention, he would file their experiences should he need them for a case in the future.
A win-win, as they say.
As much as he regretted the temporary loss of her job, it would allow them more time to explore. Time management was the key, of course. He would have to spread himself between cases with Lestrade, working on ferreting out the trouble maker with Mycroft and tending to his wife.
Wife.
Sherlock had never once considered marriage. And, of course, had this situation not presented itself he would have stayed single for the rest of his life. But it wasn't so bad, really. If he had to be married to anyone Molly was the perfect choice, all things considered.
She was intelligent and well read. The woman could certainly hold her own in a conversation with him, even better than John. As a general rule, Molly was usually not given to over emotional displays. He couldn't hold the current circumstances against her; it was mostly his fault she was in this mess. She was also kindness personified. That particular quality had always fascinated him about her, though he hadn't given himself much time to think about it until he was away. It was clearly what drew him to her over and over again. Molly was so utterly… human. Her quirks, her oddities were just as fascinating as her perceived good qualities. In a social setting, she was self-conscious and insecure, prone to making bad jokes, stuttering and stammering as she spoke. It was so unlike her professional persona. In the lab or the morgue, she was in charge and bloody brilliant. This he understood. He, himself did not like being out of his element. The difference being that he was much more practiced at putting on a front and not letting his unease show through.
And then there was her physical appearance. He could finally, after years of denial, admit that he was sexually attracted to Molly Hooper. His time away from her had proven that. She was petite, he liked her small stature. He liked that he was so much taller than her, so much bigger compared her small frame. There was something about being able to loom over her that turned him on. He could remember getting somewhat… excited on more than one occasion in the lab whilst standing near her, ordering her about; watching as she shivered with arousal, and possibly fear, occasionally had an effect on him. At the time he dismissed it as physical need, a simple human failing. But he understood now.
He craved her response.
Though he had criticised her lips and even her breasts, he could honestly find no fault in her face or her body. She was imperfect, of course. All humans were. But he enjoyed the quirk of her thin lips and had spent the last several days wondering just how they would look plumped up after kissing her for an extended period of time. Her breasts, though bigger than when he had left, were small, but as he found out the night before, quite tasty.
Feeling himself harden at the memory, he closed his eyes and tried to refocus his mind.
Deciding to steer away from her lovely little body for the moment, he considered the subtle change in her personality. She stood up to him more. There was a new fight in Molly that he enjoyed provoking. Yes, he wanted her submission, but not blindly. He rather enjoyed that she was making him work for it. Proximity alone could account for some of it but something about the woman had changed on a fundamental level. Perhaps it was the faith he had placed in her the night he had asked for her help in faking his death. Perhaps it was falling in love with that idiot Tom (or thinking that she had fallen in love) and dumping him when he couldn't fulfill her. He wasn't sure but he did look forward to finding out.
Speaking of the new, more feisty version of Molly...
"Sherlock Holmes!"
Better gird my loins.
She came marching down the hall, her hands balled into tiny fists at her sides. Thankfully he was adept at masking his emotions; the urge to laugh was overwhelming. She was wearing fuzzy yellow and blue pajamas, adorned with cartoonish kittens. It hardly made for an imposing picture. Oh, but she was furious.
Walking right to him, she whispered in a low dangerous voice, "You bloody wanker!"
He stood, casually slipping his hands into his pockets. "Morning, Molly. I take it you slept well?"
"Oh… you… I should… Oh!" She was stomping in circles.
"Molly…"
"Gonna have to start testing everything before I drink it!"
"Molly…"
"The tea, Sherlock! How could you? It's unpatriotic!"
"Molly!"
Whipping around to face him she, she yelled, "What!? What could you possibly have to say for yourself?!"
He placed his hands on her shoulders and gave her the most apologetic face he could muster. "I am sorry. I shouldn't have drugged the tea."
"No, you shouldn't have!"
"What can do to make it up to you?"
"Stop drugging me, for starters!"
"Sounds fair."
She stepped back, crossing her arms over her chest, she looked him up and down. "You look like hell."
He smirked. Old Molly would have never said such a thing. Or she would have, then apologised profusely. "I just got back. A double murder," he explained brightly. "Solved it."
She rolled her eyes. "Take a shower and a nap. I'm going to the shops," she said then turned to leave, adding, "For tea!" before she disappeared up the stairs.
On her way to the market, Molly got a text from Mary asking to meet her for coffee. She was elated to be in communication with the outgoing blonde once again. Losing Mary had been had been a devastating blow and she couldn't wait to reconnect. Besides, there was no one else she could talk to about Sherlock. Meena, her 'best friend', had completely sided with Tom after the breakup. It was unsurprising, really, since Tom was best mate's with Meena's fiancé, Dinesh. But it still hurt that she could be so easily tossed aside. She and Meena had been close since uni.
Deciding to do the shopping later, Molly sent a text back to Mary and headed to their favourite coffee shop
o0o0o0o0o
"I can't tell you how much I needed this," Molly said as she hugged her pregnant friend.
"Me too," Mary replied, giving Molly's back an affectionate rub as they broke apart. After sitting down, she smirked. "So, you're married to Sherlock."
Molly felt her cheeks flush. "Oh, God, Mare! Can we start with something else?"
"You're no fun. Just promise that we'll get back to that particular subject."
"Promise! So, um, he told me," Molly said, taking a drink of her coffee and cutting her eyes up at the other woman.
She smirked. "I know. I threatened him."
"You what?"
"I told him that if he didn't, I would. It's caused enough problems with John, I didn't want to lose you too." Her friend looked sad for a split second, then put on what Molly assumed was a fake smile.
No wonder Sherlock likes her so much; she just like him. "I'm not mad, not in the least." Molly reached across the table and took Mary's hand. "And John will get over it… won't he?"
Mary nodded. "Sure. Yeah. Probably." She didn't sound convinced.
"You lied for his own good. Can't he see that?"
"Not at the moment." She picked up her tea and took a sip. "He's been sleeping in the baby's room. On an air bed." Narrowing her eyes, she added, "I hope he throws his back out!"
Molly smiled. "There's my Mary."
"Now, what do you want to know?"
"Everything," Molly answered.
Twenty minutes later, Mary had told her all about her life in the States. She'd talked about her family who, like Molly's, was nearly gone. She had explained about working for the CIA (what she could, at least) and her dead partner. Then she told Molly about meeting Sherlock.
"He was brilliant and infuriating at the same time but he dazzled the agents, spinning a tale of psychopaths and criminal networks. He promised us drug lords, smuggling rings and human trafficking kingpins. Frankly, I thought he was probably bullshitting most of it but, in the end, he came through."
"Why did you take him up on his offer? You personally?"
Looking pensive, Mary answered, "Because I knew it would get my mind off of Conley's death. I can't even explain why it affected me the way it did. I really didn't like the man, but he was a good agent and…" She shrugged. "It was time to move on, I suppose."
"And then… John."
"Yes, John. I didn't mean to fall in love with him, Molly. Sherlock had instructed me to insert myself into your lives, not date either of you. But when John asked me out I realised that I could actually get seriously involved with someone without endangering them for the first time in years. I didn't allow myself to think about the long term problems it might cause."
"Why would dating someone put them in danger?" Molly had watched some American programmes about the CIA; she didn't think the job was that dangerous.
"My specific skill set is… unique, Molly. Let's just leave it at that."
Taking her cue, she decided it was a good time to have a chat about the man himself. "Okay, so you want to hear about Sherlock?"
"He's shagging you senseless, isn't he?"
"First of all, no. We have not actually had sex."
"Liar."
"I'm not! Technically we haven't."
Once again, Mary narrowed her eyes. "What aren't you telling me, Molly?"
Now that she was going to have to say the actual words, she was afraid she was going to lose her nerve. But looking into Mary's curious eyes she knew she could trust her. "I, ah, well, when I was was with Tom I asked him to do certain things…"
"He always did seem too vanilla for you. Let me guess, he wouldn't slap you around?"
Molly stared, gobsmacked. Am I that transparent?
"Don't worry. I'm really good at reading people. Almost as good as Sherlock and if I knew, obviously he would. So, how is it?"
Shaking out of her shock, Molly said, "Intense. Amazing. Better than I imagined. And trust me, Mare, I have imagined."
They both giggled, Molly looking around to see if anyone had caught onto their conversation.
After about a minute Mary cocked her head to the side, saying, "I miss sex." with a faraway look on her face.
"Oh, sweetness! He'll come around."
"Yeah, but by the time he does, I'm afraid I'll be too big for the makeup shag!"
This time their laughter drew the attention of several other patrons nearby. Neither cared one bit.
o0o0o0o0o
Molly felt better than she had in weeks as she entered 221B. Spending the morning with Mary had been exactly what she needed. On the walk home, she told herself to have more faith in Sherlock. Surely he wouldn't let her actually lose her job, if it was within his power to stop it. Besides, the man didn't like losing. He'd find a solution just to spite the mystery person who was causing trouble.
Unlocking the door, she noticed that the flat was very quiet. He's still asleep, she thought. Good. She didn't think the detective had slept in at least a couple of days. After throwing the old tea in the bin, she was just starting to wash out the tin when she heard an odd noise. Filling it with hot water to soak, she turned, picking up a towel and drying her hands. There it was again. It sounded for all the world like a… cat's meow.
As she left the kitchen to investigate, she was met by the most beautifully surprising sight she'd seen in ages…
I don't think it's gonna be any surprise what Molly sees... but she IS very appreciative. Please review (see, I told you I wasn't above begging!). We have many miles to go here. Thanks so much for reading ~Lil~
