"A girl likes to be crossed a little in love now and then."
Xxx
The week finally winded down, and Friday night came at a much-needed time. Molly was both physically and mentally exhausted from the week, and thankfully had avoided interaction with pretty much everyone sans her colleagues since her meeting with John. She had exchanged only a few, brief texts with George since his visit on Tuesday morning, and had spent the past few evenings snuggled up with Toby, watching every BBC miniseries adapted from a Jane Austen novel and sobbing over her life.
At any rate, knowing the weekend had finally arrived, she was in better spirits, and currently on her way to meet George for dinner. While her Friday preferences were always more carb based i.e. stopping by the Italian place outside of the tube station, George preferred more… refined dishes.
In fact, in preparation for his new goal of training to compete in an Ironman Triathlon in just two years' time, he had adapted a protein heavy, paleo diet. Molly couldn't comprehend what a paleo diet even was, let alone competing in a tournament that required one to swim, cycle and run in one stretch of time.
But, George was all about making goals. Short- and long-term. Small and large. Easily accomplished and verging on impossible. He preached setting up your future, one list of goals at a time. The Ironman was his new, long-term, large, verging on impossible, goal. When he had turned to Molly and asked for hers, she almost choked on the tea she had been drinking.
She couldn't fathom getting groceries for the following week, let alone long-term goals. And ever since Sherlock's confession, her dreams, goals, and entire fucking life had been all out of whack.
She smiled and told George that she just wanted to be happy.
Don't we all.
Molly sighed and entered the new restaurant, which according to the sign specialized in vegan, gluten free, and dairy free options. She shuddered.
I should have grabbed a kebab on the way over.
Molly spotted George and smiled at his excited wave. She took her jacket off and slid into the seat, giving her boyfriend a grin.
"There you are! It's been such a long three days without you. Please tell me you're feeling much better?" He asked as he handed her a menu.
Molly smiled and nodded. "Not… Perfect. But better." She paused and bit her lip, "As good as I reckon I'll ever be," she added as an afterthought.
George nodded and grabbed her hand from across the table, giving it a small squeeze. "I'm glad. I'm just happy that I can take you on another date."
She blushed and glanced down at the menu, unable to hold George's admiring gaze. "Yes. So am I."
"We should do something fun this week! The pool just reopened at my gym. We could take a swim. Or, maybe go on a nice hike? How does that sound?"
Molly looked down at the menu, her mind overwhelmed with words like quinoa, courgette pasta, and vegan macaroni and cheese. She looked back into George's eyes, the emerald green gazing into her soul. She swallowed.
Why would I hike when I can watch Downton Abbey and eat ice cream?
"You know, I don't know if I'm feeling that well. I should play it safe. Maybe we can just grab dinner at some point?"
George nodded quickly and squeezed her hand. "Yes, of course. How presumptuous of me. That probably works best since Richard and I were going to train. My goal is eight miles this weekend."
Molly practically choked on her water. "That's incredible! I'm sure you and him will have no issue."
"I sure hope so! And if you're free next weekend, Richard and Anne have invited us out on their boat. Anne is an excellent chef. Dinner and drinks on the water should be lovely."
Molly whimpered and nodded. "Yes. Sounds perfect."
Assuming I can hold dinner down after my last experience on a boat.
George grinned and waved over the server. He glanced back at Molly. "Have you settled on anything? I'll have the steak and asparagus. I think you'd like the courgette pasta?"
Molly sighed and forced a smile. "Sounds wonderful."
As the server disappeared with their orders, George began to fill Molly in on his week, ranging from his lunch with Mrs. Hudson, to his irritating new intern, to the wonderful Italian leather shoes he had just purchased.
Through this all, Molly only had one thought on her mind.
I'm getting kebab on the way home.
Xxx
A few nights later, Molly was sitting in front of the telly, enjoying a bowl of ice cream and an episode of Downtown Abbey with Toby snuggled into her lap. She had finally willed herself to forget at least part of her conversation with Sherlock. At any rate, she had a sexy boyfriend, and once her menses had the right mind to fuck off, she'd show George how much she lov—
No. That's not right.
Molly paled and ate another spoonful, considering how she felt about George. How much did she fancy her boyfriend? He was a perfect gentleman. To be quite honest, he was perfect in general.
He was sweet, handsome, financially stable, drama-free, and doted upon Molly like it was nobody's business.
But appreciating his presence, the attention he gave her, and his overall demeanor… Did that translate to love?
Molly set the ice cream down, suddenly feeling queasy as a new thought crossed her mind.
If I don't marry George, will I ever find a man? Will I ever have children? Am I going to die alone with Toby II, III, and IV to crap all over my corpse?
As if sensing her concerns, Toby jumped to one of her chairs and snuggled into a pillow, allowing Molly to lose herself in her thoughts. That was until a knock at the door forced her to abandon the sofa and trot into her hallway.
Upon opening the door, she was met with the fierce blue gaze of none other than Sherlock Holmes. She swallowed and stumbled backwards.
"Molly," he began, "Good evening. How is… your cat?"
Molly blinked and stared at Sherlock. "Toby? Oh, he's great. Had a bit of a messy splinter in his paw the other day, but a trip to the vet cleared that right up. Of course, the wait was awful but I bought him a nice big piece of fish as a treat when we finished."
Sherlock cleared his throat and nodded along with her story, clearly surprised by her verbose response. He looked past her, clearly trying to determine whether George was at the flat. Upon determining that he wasn't, his body relaxed, and his attention focused directly on Molly.
"I'm glad to hear that he's in a good health. May I?" He asked, gesturing to the inside of her flat.
Molly opened her mouth, preparing to decline, but halted at the sight of Sherlock's big, blue eyes. She sighed and nodded, quickly moving to the side.
Best to get this over with. We had to discuss it eventually.
Sherlock entered the flat and sat down, flinching as Toby abandoned his spot on the love seat and jumped onto Sherlock's lap. He swallowed and pet the cat, surprised by the calming nature of the beast's fur.
Molly sat at the edge of her sofa, watching Sherlock anxiously. She gnawed on her lip and considered returning to her ice cream, but ultimately decided against it.
I'll need it more after he leaves.
Sherlock cleared his throat and smiled politely at Molly. "I spent most of the day on a case. John and I were investigating a series of bomb threats in Hyde Park. Nothing spectacular. Perhaps a five if I'm being generous. But it did take most of the day."
Molly nodded and began playing with her hands. "I'm glad to hear that you two figured it out. How's everyone? I haven't seen anyone in a while."
Sherlock considered the question before responding. "Well, Lestrade has a new girlfriend. I believe they met on that ridiculous dating app, Tinder. Anderson is living with his parents after being evicted from his flat. Not entirely sure why. Wasn't listening. And Donovan is pregnant. She doesn't know yet."
Molly blinked. "Yes, I met Greg's girlfriend at Rosie's party. And Sally is pregnant? How do you know?"
Sherlock practically snorted. "Oh, Molly, come on now. That's child's play. Quite literally considering she is expecting."
"How can you possibly determine if a woman is pregnant after a few hours with her?"
Sherlock shrugged and began to scratch behind Toby's ears. "Quite easily. The same way I can tell that you're menstruating. The way your clothes fit, the way you're sitting, what you're eating… It's easy."
Molly squeaked and pulled a blanket on top of her, suddenly feeling naked under Sherlock's gaze. "You can tell I'm on my period?"
"Yes. Although even John would have figured that out given the ice cream, heating pad and ibuprofen on your counter."
She sighed and began to play with her hair, her eyes shifting between the relaxed cat on Sherlock's lap, and the man himself. "Right, Einstein. Did you deduce who the father was?"
Sherlock quirked his lips. "Oh, Molly, that's where things get juicy. I reckon that even Sally does not know. In fact, I believe it to be…" he paused and looked around, before leaning closer to Molly, "Lestrade."
Molly screamed and jumped out of her seat, her hand coming to her mouth. "No? You can't be serious!"
Sherlock laughed and shook his head. "You're right. I'm not. She's been with the same bloke from Essex since January. I just wanted to see your reaction."
Molly squealed and grabbed her pillow, quickly whacking Sherlock in the arm. Toby hissed and jumped from the warm body, quickly trotting out of the room. Molly gave him a playful glare. "Oh, that was foul, you git! Be careful who you say that to. It's not exactly funny."
Sherlock smirked and shrugged. "I found it funny."
She shook her head and tossed her pillow back, keeping her gaze on Sherlock. She swallowed and took a deep breath.
It's now or never. We need to talk about this.
"Sherlock—"
He sat up and immediately interrupted her. "So, how's your brother? He lives where again? Leeds?"
Molly blinked and frowned for a moment, before nodding. "Yeah, he does. He and his wife Ellen just celebrated their fifth wedding anniversary. They had a nice dinner with my mum."
Sherlock noticed her frown. "You dread living so far away from your family. Especially your mother."
Molly frowned and gathered her hair, beginning to braid her long locks. Sherlock watched on, mesmerized.
"I do. I wish I could see her more. But it's so bloody hard with work and the distance," she sighed and tied the end of the braid, "but hopefully one day that won't be the case."
"Would you leave London?" Sherlock asked, his voice softer than expected.
Molly paused and began to play with her blanket. "Oh… I don't know. I've never thought about it. I love my job and this city. It would be hard."
She looked across the room, her eyes settling on a photo of Arthur's Seat that she had captured during her trip to Scotland. Sherlock followed her gaze and looked back at her.
"Perhaps to Scotland?"
Molly couldn't help the small smile that grew on her lips, although she quickly shook her head. "No, I don't reckon so. I love it there and I ache to return someday. Nowhere else in my life have I felt so free. I was able to run about and clear my mind. But I don't think that freedom would do me good in everyday life."
She looked down to her hands and took a deep breath. "I think that trip allowed me to figure out who I was. What I wanted in life. But it's silly, isn't it? That some grassy hills and green landscape can clear our minds, help us figure out what we're missing?"
Sherlock shook his head. "I don't think it's silly," he whispered.
Molly smiled back at him. "Someday I'll go back. Hopefully with my life more in order. A pleasant holiday."
Sherlock nodded and glanced over at the coffee table, his eyes scanning the half empty container of ice cream. He looked back at Molly.
"Have I divulged to you the 'ice cream incident'?"
Molly bit her lip and shook her head. "What is that?"
Sherlock smirked. "Would you like to hear about John and Mary's honeymoon, a lactose intolerance, and the open Irish countryside?"
Molly laughed and nodded, her eyes locked on the man across from her. "This doesn't sound good."
"Oh, for John, not so much. But for us? It's a delightful tale." Sherlock smirked and continued, "It all began as the two rented a car in Dublin and took off for the west coast—"
Molly listened to his story, captivated by the liveliness in his blue eyes, an energy that she hadn't seen in Sherlock for so long. She swallowed and continued to watch, ignoring the beating of her heart and the butterflies in her stomach.
I guess this is how we move on. We just pretend it never happened.
