It was raining when Molly Hooper left St. Barts to head off to Baker Street, She'd even texted Sherlock. After all Tom wasn't going to be home tonight, so she could stay as late as she wanted. The consulting detective actually seemed to like the idea of Molly stopping by…. after all, he was nearly out of biscuits.
Despite the rain she had the taxi drop her up the street at the shop and, after getting the biscuits, she walked the rest of the way to his flat. When she reached the top of the stairs, he was perched, facing out the window.
"Brought the biscuits." Molly shook the box jovially, and he turned and smiled in response.
"Tom works a lot of nights?" He asked, once they were in the kitchen as he put on the kettle.
"Oh, yeah. I mean, not all the time… just… often." She smiled and fought the urge to jump as the notorious Basil made his appearance, dancing across the counter at the sound of the kettle whistle.
"Ah, Molly, I'd like you to meet my… experiment… Basil." Sherlock allowed him to climb into the palm of his hand before presenting him to the pathologist.
"Hello, Basil." She smiled and glanced up at Sherlock. She'd only seen that type of look on him when he was attempting to flirt with her and manipulate her. It was expectant and hopeful… quickly, she looked back down at the mouse, steadied on his back paws, and cautiously took one of them and 'shook hands'. "How do you do?" Molly couldn't help but giggle and Sherlock's smile twitched a bit, widening. He seemed to be studying her reaction as he set up the mouse's place setting. John's reaction must have really shaken him. It was clear to her he was very excited about the mouse. Maybe that's what John saw and he knew Sherlock doesn't get excited over much more than a good murder. "I use to have a hamster." She blurted out, not thinking. "I mean, as a pet… when I was younger."
"Oh." He fidgeted for a moment, before pulling out his phone. "Basil is-uh- really clever. See?" Just as John described, he set the phone on the table with the keyboard app open and the tiny mouse crawled over it. Delighting in the sounds. "I —uh— think he uses it sort of like I use my violin." He smiled.
"That so cool." Molly smiled, sipping at her tea.
As if he realized she had complimented him, Basil approached her… a bit cautiously at first, but once she offered her arm, he climbed up on her shoulder and began playing with her braid. Perhaps making a nest. She really wasn't sure, but it didn't bother her. She'd had more disgusting things in her hair than anything that mouse could put there and she was going to wash it, anyway. If she didn't know any better, she would say the look Sherlock was giving her was one of jealousy.
"Now, Basil. You just met her." He gingerly removed the creature. "Lets not get too friendly." With a smile, Sherlock excitedly moved on. "I've taught him how to count to three."
"OH! Wow! Can I see?" Happy to oblige, he mashed up a biscuit and commanded the rodent to count. "What a clever creature! Have you taught him anything else?" She leaned over and gave Basil a small stroke, not noticing Sherlock's look of momentary surprise.
"Well, he is a mouse… it's impressive he can count at all. Took a lot of time to teach him that."
"Oh, I'm sure! He shouldn't have the capacity for that. Lucky he found you." They exchanged warm smiles, but Sherlock didn't let his eyes move from her hand and the mouse for very long. He was jealous. Sherlock was jealous that Basil may like her better. When he cleared his throat, she realized he probably deduced that she was deducing him.
"It's getting rather late, Molly. Don't you have an early shift tomorrow?"
"Well, not that early. I don't have to go."
"Yes, but with your problems with insomnia, it may be best to get a jump start on your evening." She gently scoffed at the dismissal, but politely agreed and took her leave.
As her feet hit the pavement, she shot out a text.
I'm still convinced it's just a pet. But I never pictured Sherlock to be one of those strange dog ladies. - Molly
Only with a mouse. - Molly
What? - JW
You know, the kind that let their dogs lick their face. - Molly
So, you don't think we should worry?- JW
Only when it dies. - Molly
Ok. Thats what Mary thinks, too. I guess I overreacted.- JW
Yeah, Sherlock is a strange old woman, deep down. - Molly
"Well, you seemed to like her." Sherlock sat down at the table and munched at a biscuit.
squeak.
"What? I didn't push her out. She was ready to go anyway." He spoke, mouth still mostly full.
squeak.
"No, you're wrong. She was tired. I just brought it to her attention." He glowered down at his new friend, who gave him a skeptical expression. "She did seem more open to you than John… I found that odd."
squeak.
"I was just saying, she seemed a bit excited about meeting you. Thats all." Sherlock leaned back a bit, still chewing. "I wonder why…." He closed his eyes and let out a long exhale. "John. John told her."