The Mad Man and Molly
The second time she met him, he looked different. In fact, he didn't look like the Mad Man at all, and at first she didn't think they were the same person.
This one found her while she was on her way home from a stressful day at work, and, like many stressful days at work, Sherlock had been there, working on a case – or something. He hadn't said exactly what. But now she was away from all that and going home, hopefully to a nice hot cup of tea and something all right on the telly.
The mad man surprised her by coming out from nowhere and suddenly pushing her to one side – and she wasn't even on the road! She was still on the pavement! – so needless to say she wasn't all that impressed with this strange man in a pinstriped suit and converse with hair that stuck up every which way.
And then she saw that something rather large and very deadly had just passed through the spot where she had been standing only moments ago. She'd have been killed if it weren't for this stranger.
She looked at him, trying to figure him out, but he was already getting up and looking around. Shakily, she did the same, but couldn't see anything out of the ordinary. His eyes wide and his hands clutching at his hair and making it even more untidy than it already was, he swore – or at least, that's what it sounded like. She didn't recognise any of the words.
"Ex-excuse me? What was that?"
"What? What was what? Oh, that? Oh... nothing you need to worry about – I hope. Probably just the wrong place at the wrong time." His demeanour changed suddenly, and that was when she was reminded of the mad man in tweed. "Sorry, I'm the Doctor! And you are?"
"Molly," Molly supplied hesitantly, not even sure if 'Doctor' was a name or counted as one, or if she should be telling the man her own. "Molly Hooper."
"Right! Pleased to meet you, Molly Hooper!"
He tipped her a two fingered salute, and headed off over to a nearby alleyway. She tried to follow him, spurred on by curiosity and something else that she couldn't name just yet, but the moment she reached the alley, all that she could see was empty space, and bits of rubbish blowing about in the wind, which was weird. There wasn't that much of a breeze today.
She continued on her way home, and once there made herself a hot cup of tea, and settled down in front of the telly. But she couldn't quite get that wheezing noise from earlier out of her head.
...
Lemme just say something now? I did not expect my first Sherlock fic to be a DW crossover. OR have Molly as the main character. I do not regret anything. :D