Ch. 3
The next morning Molly awoke to sound of a fire alarm blasting from the kitchen and a faint burning smell.
"Uh, Mary? Everything alright in there?"
No reply.
Untangling herself from the pile of blankets on her bed, Molly turned on the lamp sitting on her bedside table. Instantly a shooting pain was behind her eyeballs.
'Ugh,' she thought, ' Hangover. Just lovely."
Exiting her room she shouted another greeting to her roommate who faired the alcohol induced escapades from the night before much better than she did.
"Morning, Molls! Eggs are in the pan, coffee is fresh and I even found some oranges for juice. Wheat or rye toast?"
Molly shot a dirty look at Mary. How the hell was she so chipper?
"Wheat please, with jam. I'm getting a shower. Save me coffee. Lots of coffee."
Across town the kitchen of 221B Baker Street was bustling as well.
"Sherlock, tea or coffee?"
"Ah, John. Tea please, in a to go mug. I'm off to Bart's to start a new experiment. Lestrade hasn't called with a case in a while so I figure my other inquiries should be moved to the front burner. Tell me, do you know where I can find a miniature guillotine? "
The doctor was caught off guard by the happiness in his flat mate's voice, along with his odd request. "Uh, you want a wha-"
"Forget it, John. I'll find one myself. Thank you for the tea,' Sherlock said grabbing the steaming thermos from John's hand as he bustled out the front door, passing Mrs. Hudson on the way.
"Morning, Sherlock."
"Morning, Mrs. Hudson." He greeted, pecking the old woman, who was dressed in a rather alarming shade of purple, on the cheek.
And he was gone.
"What is he so jovial about?" She asked, looking toward the man still standing in the kitchen.
"I have no idea, Mrs. Hudson. I really don't."
o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o
Molly had managed to still make it to work on time and was thankful to only find paper work on her desk. She was almost sure that if she had to conduct a post-mortem right now she would not be able to do her best work.
A quiet day at her desk was exactly what the mousy pathologist needed.
Not ten minutes after she finished her first report the doors of her morgue burst open. There was only one person she knew that needed to make that dramatic of an entrance.
Without looking up from her papers she knew that Sherlock Holmes had arrived and her hangover wasn't about to go away soon. This day was going to need a fair amount of coffee to finish well.
"Need anything, Sherlock?" she asked a few minutes later, eyes still focused on the file in front of her.
It wasn't until she shut the file, intending to return it to the cabinet on the opposite side of the room, that she realized the handsome man with the prominent cheek bones and eyes the color of the ocean was standing above her, watching as she worked.
"Hello, Molly. How are you feeling?"
"Better, Sherlock. Thank you for taking care of me last night."
"Oh, so you do remember. I was worried that the alcohol would have prevented you from retaining that memory."
"No, I wasn't that pissed. I haven't blacked out since my Uni days," she let out a half laugh and muttered under her breath, "stupid ceramics class."
"I'm glad to hear you are well. I was concerned for you."
With that statement he turned around an exited her office.
Through her open door she could see him sitting at the table she'd designated for his experiments.
Several hours went by, the morgue completely silent. Molly was grateful for the lack of commotion. Her headache was beginning to clear when she thought about Mary's advice from the night before.
'You need to make the first move!' kept echoing in Molly's head.
She took a deep breath, rose from her chair, and started slowly approaching the man perched on the stool across the room as thought he was a tiger poised to attack.
'Easy, girl, you can do this. Just ask him if he would like to go for coffee with you… it's simple. Easy. A toddler could do it. Except toddlers don't drink coffee. Dammit, Molly, focus!' she mentally argued with herself.
"Sherlock, would you like to go grab a coffee with me?"
He looked up at her from his microscope with a blank look on his face as though she hasn't asked a simple question in a language he spoke.
Expecting his usual answer of 'black, two sugars' Molly began walking toward the double doors.
"Molly, wait, give me 5 minutes to clean up after myself. I'd love to have a coffee with you."
Her face blushed a deep red.
"Oh my god," she thought to herself, "he said yes!"
Congrats on completing chapter 3! You are a lovely person for sticking with me this long. This chapter ends on a off key because I'm still debating exactly how Sherlock is going to act on this date... and how much of John & Mary's adventures I will include. I have a "point B" where I'd like to end the story but getting there might need some guidance. Reviews/comments/suggestions are welcome.
xoxo
H
