Anonymous prompt on Tumblr.
John Watson ran into the lab at St. Bart's hospital, looking around frantically until he spotted his ex-flatmate. The man in question was pacing the length of the room, hands gesticulating wildly as he mumbled to himself.
John had sprinted out of his office as soon as he had received a text from Sherlock. (Come to Bart's immediately. Emergency. -SH)
John glanced around the morgue, but nothing jumped out at him as the source of the consulting detective's behavior. Had Moriarty finally made his move?
"Sherlock! What's wrong?!"
Sherlock's head shot up at the sound of John's voice. John reared back at the look in the detective's eyes. His face was a combination of pain and guilt, mixed with some other emotion John couldn't quite place.
"John? Why are you here?"
"You texted me, remember? Pretty cryptic message, to be honest. I came as fast as I could. Are you hurt?" He scanned Sherlock's body but still could not find anything wrong.
"Oh, right. Right. No, I'm fine." He waved off his friend's concern. "It isn't me you should be worrying about. Molly is -"
"What?! What happened to Molly?! Where is she?!" Alarm coursed through John at the notion that sweet Molly Hooper could be in danger. Long past were the days when she couldn't remember John's name, and John now saw the kind pathologist as a sort of sister.
"She's with George," Sherlock spit out, nose scrunched in distaste as the name left his lips. "We were performing an extremely exciting experiment on stabbing patterns when he just waltzed in like he belonged here and dragged her away. Can you believe the nerve?!"
John couldn't stop the slight smile. He was beginning to understand what was going on. Instead of alleviating his friend's fears, however, he decided to toy with the consulting detective a little longer. Served him right for playing dead for two bloody years. And treating Molly so horribly for so many years.
"Oh? Who's George?" John hoped his tone didn't give away his amusement.
"Hell if I know. Molly smiled at him and then hugged him, John! And then she grabbed her coat and left! In the middle of our experiment! Can you believe that?!"
"How dare she! Sherlock, this is the 'emergency' you needed me for? Molly went out to lunch with some bloke?"
John tried to cover his laugh with a cough, but Sherlock turned to him, his head tilting slightly to the side. His eyes narrowed as he took in John's appearance and the glee on his face.
"Whatever is so amusing, John?"
"Oh, nothing." John attempted to retreat quickly, but Sherlock jumped in front of the doors, blocking his exit.
"Oh, fine. Do you remember last week, when we came to the morgue to examine the body of Harold Smith?"
"Vaguely. He was the one whose wife poisoned his tea, correct?"
"Yes. I don't suppose you recall what Molly told us after you solved the case?" John's eyes twinkled as he spoke. He really was enjoying his friend's discomfort far more than was necessary.
Sherlock scrunched his eyes and steepled his fingers, trying to remember what John was referring to.
"Well, she did mention something about a…. Oh." Sherlock's eyes closed as he let out a breath.
"Ah. Figured it out, then, have we?" Sherlock glared at John's bemused expression.
"Molly's cousin is coming into town for a meeting. She mentioned her excitement that he would be taking her out to lunch. Today." Red tinged Sherlock's cheeks as he refused to meet John's gaze.
"Yes." John took pity on his embarrassed friend and walked over to him. He patted him lightly on the arm. "You know, mate, this wouldn't be an issue if you would just tell her how you feel."
"John, don't be ridiculous. I was merely worried about Molly's atrocious taste in men. How was I to know if this man was a serial killer or drug dealer? Molly's history speaks for itself."
John sighed. "Right. Need I remind you that Tom really wasn't so bad? Sure, his meat dagger theory was a bit lacking, but it was certainly creative. And he loved Molly."
Sherlock just huffed and crossed his arms. He really could be a child sometimes. John grabbed both of his shoulders and forced him to look him in the eye.
"Listen, Sherlock. I know you don't want to hear this, but you need to. Molly's relationship with Tom didn't work out, but one day she's going to find someone she loves even more than you, and you won't be able to charm your way back into her heart with a well-placed smile and a kiss on the cheek. You'll realize that you've finally lost the only woman you've ever truly cared about. Is that what you want?"
"No." Sherlock's shoulders slumped in resignation. "No, I couldn't live with myself if that happened."
"Then when Molly comes back, you need to pull her aside and tell her. Before she moves on for good and it's too late."
Sherlock shrugged nonchalantly but nodded in acknowledgement. John opened his mouth to say more but was interrupted by the opening of the door to the lab. John flinched as it slammed against the wall.
"Sorry for leaving so abruptly, Sherlock, I…. Oh! John! Hello," the gentle voice of Molly Hooper called out. She smiled brightly at her friend and hurried over to plant a kiss on his cheek.
John briefly took note of the tick in Sherlock's jaw at Molly's gesture but was prevented from further observations by a quiet cough. A young man was nervously stopped in the doorway, shifting his feet uncomfortably.
Upon seeing the man, John couldn't believe Sherlock hadn't noticed his striking resemblance to Molly. His hair was a light brown, and his features were delicate like Molly's. His eyes, however, should have given away his identity (or at least his relation to Molly) to the consulting detective, as they were the same deep brown orbs that could be found on Molly Hooper's face.
John chuckled to himself but quickly ceased when he saw the angry stare Sherlock was giving him.
"I didn't get to introduce the two of you properly before, Sherlock. We were running late for our lunch reservation. This is my cousin, George Hooper. George, this is Sherlock Holmes." Molly gestured between the two men, who were carefully sizing each other up. Molly gulped as her attention flitted between them.
Finally, Sherlock turned his gaze upon Molly, clearly sensing no threat from the anxious George.
Sherlock strode forward and gripped Molly's wrist, pulling her towards the doors. "Molly, it is imperative that I speak with you immediately. George, pleasure to meet you." With that, Sherlock swept out without looking back at the other two occupants of the lab, Molly trailing along behind him.
John cleared his throat and held out a hand. "John Watson." George clasped his hand, still staring curiously at the doors.
"Is he always like that?" George finally asked.
"Yeah, pretty much."
"He really likes my cousin, though. He was practically seething when she hugged me earlier. I'm surprised he didn't drag her to the nearest supply cupboard then and there." George grinned sheepishly. In response, John began laughing. George swiftly joined in.
"It's about time those two worked out their feelings for each other. Mary and I were about to hold an intervention."
John took another moment to compose himself. "Fancy a coffee? I suspect those two won't be back for some time."
George smiled in agreement. "I'd love one. I think you might be right."
So, real life has been getting in the way of my writing, but I have a five day weekend so I'm hoping to get a little more done. I'm currently working on the next chapter of my multi-chapter fic All In (if you haven't read that one, check it out! I'd love to hear your thoughts!) That being said, please leave a review for this little drabble. Your comments keep me writing and encourage me to write faster!
