A/N: I know, I know, these were teeny tiny chapters and should have been a one-shot but I was inspired by two different pics by artbylexie so I had to make them two chapters. I hope you like it and thank you for reading!
Three months later found Captain Holmes and his crew on their new ship, a sleek beauty he'd named The Sea Spirit. First Mate Lestrade had arched his eyebrow when Holmes announced the name. "Bit fanciful for you, isn't it?" he'd asked with a smirk.
Holmes had ignored him, just as he continued to ignore his continued attempts to find out why 'Captain Machine' (he'd heard crewmembers mutter that nickname behind his back) had suddenly found his whimsical side. Nor did he allow anyone to question him as to why he suddenly felt the need to spend so many nights playing his violin on deck , rather than in the relative privacy of his quarters.
Anderson, of all people, came closest to the truth without even knowing it. "Playin' to the mermaids, he is." Then he'd tapped a finger against the side of his head and given his mates a significant look, which Holmes also ignored. He was long since used to people considering him odd, members of his own crew no exception.
Another three months passed in this manner as they patrolled the Caribbean, and Sherlock almost decided that he had, after all, had a particularly intense hallucination when his musical efforts paid off. He nearly dropped the instrument into the ocean when he saw her head and shoulders break water, the moonlight and rippling waves giving her a ghostly look. He leaned over the rail, gripping it with one hand, bow and violin in the other, and met her gaze.
She reached up and beckoned him down; without hesitation he laid his violin and bow on the deck, clambered up onto the rail, and dove beneath the waves.
She was there, waiting for him as he curved upright and opened his eyes. Holding his breath he nonetheless manage a smile, which she returned shyly. He spread his arms wide and held her close when she swam into his embrace, her whispered words as clear to him somehow as if they were still above water. "I'm Molly, and you're Sherlock, I heard your men calling your name." She gave him another shy, sweet smile. "Have you come to stay with me this time?"
He responded with a kiss, the sweetest he'd ever tasted despite the saltwater that surrounded them. And when he felt the rippling changes in his body he laughed aloud, breathing in the water that would forevermore be as air to him, swimming away with her without so much as a backward glance at the cold, empty life he'd left behind.