Hi everyone! Sorry it's been a while since an update, I'll try and publish some more when I can! Thankyou to everyone who's left reviews or followed/favourited this story, its such a lovely feeling knowing people enjoy this stuff! More chapters to come x
"Molly," She could feel Sherlock's warm breath on her neck, and his lo fingers poking her ribs.
"Molly! Wake up, Molly."
Half asleep, Molly's conscious told her something was wrong, and that it was very, very early. Stirring herself lazily awake, she flickered open her left eye to peek at Sherlock. She opened her other eye and sat up whether saw Sherlock sat on the edge of the bed, fully clothed and holding her coat. Oh shit. He regrets it. He's breaking up with you. Shaking away the ferocious voice in her head, she questioned;
"Sherlock.. Why are you up? What's wrong?" Aware that she was as naked as a baby, she pulled up the bed sheet to cover her bare breasts. Spying the alarm clock by his bed, she saw it was only just 5am. Looks back into his eyes with obvious concern, he replied.
"Mary and John came home around 10pm, as I deducted, their row was somewhat blazing and Mary has left. Knowing John, he hasn't had a settled night and will awake and make coffee in approximately fifteen minutes."
He finished by thrusting the coat at her chest and standing up, adgitated to an immense degree.
"So you want me to leave." Feeling more angry than upset, Molly pulled on her coat rather violently and began searching for her shoes around the room. He was looking out the window, he hands pulling his lovely curls.
"I'm not ready to tell him about you, about us. I'm still processing whatthis is." He voice was deepening but becoming louder and distraught.
Slamming herself down on the bed to pull on her shoes, Molly remained silent.
"Molly please understand, it will take a while for me to learn this sort of thing. Please?" He now was in front of her, kneeling in front of her and putting on her shoes, as it seemed Molly was far too angry to. After both shoes were on her feet, he cupped her face in his hands and stared intently into her chocolate eyes.
"Please, darling." His eyes were pleading, his voice was begging. Feeling a surge of power Molly responded;
"No, Sherlock."
With that, she left Sherlock somewhat speechless, kneeling where she'd sat, with the most wonderful look of confusion on his face.
He'll come after me. He will. Molly strode down the street, looking feverantly for a cab but having no such luck. She hugged her arms to her body. I did not think this through. Cursing herself, she kept glancing back, expecting to see her Sherlock in his billowing coat running after her, ready to scoop her up and apologise, hail a cab immediately and take her home for some well deserved make-up sex. No. This was the real world. Marching to the sound of London waking up, Molly Hooper couldn't help but think, what the fuck has she done.
Arriving home after having taken to tube instead of being patient and waiting for a cabbie, she threw her keys down on the phone table hard enough to scare Toby from his hiding place. She paused and sighed, feeling the upset begin to wash over her. She noticed after a few moments the red light flashing on her answer phone. Wondering who may have called her last night, she tentatively pressed play.
"Hi Molls, it's Greg. Uhm, Lestrade. Look I know you've probably got a lot on, but er, was wondering if you wanted to meet for a drink next week. For a er, chat or whatever. Alright, er, give us a call yeah? See ya. Alright bye."
Smiling at his apparent nervousness in his voice in the message, she thought about Greg. They'd been relatively good friends over the years, never had gone out much, but texted now and then. She did think he was a bit of a silver fox, this time a few weeks ago she'd probably have gone out on a date with him. But now, Sherlock clouded every thought. Making a mental note to call him to politely decline later, Molly headed for a nice hot bath.
Molly tucked into her bacon sandwich and turned on crap Saturday morning TV. Flicking through the channels, she heard her phone buzz on the kitchen counter. Debating momentarily whether or not to get it, she sighed at herself and stood. Her heart skipped a beat when she saw it was from Sherlock.
I don't know what to say. -SH
She warred with herself whether or not to text back. "Good god woman, you saw him 3hours ago stop thinking you miss him!" She said aloud to herself. She hit reply;
I'm sorry for walking out Sherlock. -Mx
Like always, the response was immediate.
Can I come round? -SH
Her response needed to thought whatsoever.
Yes sweetheart. -Mx
Knowing he'd probably be here in around fifteen minutes, Molly scoffed down the rest of her bacon buttie and hurriedly straightened up the living room. Catching herself in the reflection of the TV, she strode to her bedroom. She made the bed and straightened up, well, threw her dirty clothes into the washing basket. She brushed her hair through and swapped her owl pjama's for some tight jeans and a black T-shirt. Very casual. Deciding to be thorough, she brushed the coffee breath from her teeth and cleaned the soap suds from the bath. Nodding at herself, she returned to the TV and sat waiting, fidgeting with her nails.
An hour passed.
Molly was pacing now. Checking her phone every 3 minutes, and a sick feeling started to take over her stomach.
Where are you? -Mx
No reply.
Another hour passed.
Sherlock I'm worried now. Text me. -Mx
Everything was running through her mind. Cab accident, falling down the stairs, tripping over his scarf.. But one word kept creeping into her thoughts. Moriarty.
He's not dead. He's alive and has found Sherlock and.. God knows what's happened to him.
Grabbing her coat, she tore down the stairs of her flat and out the door to the street. Hailing a cab effectively, she ordered him to go straight to Baker Street.
Panting slightly, Molly banged on the door a little harder than she'd intended.
No answer.
She knocked again, concern was welling in her eyes.
"Molly, dear? Can I help you love?" The chirpy voice came from the foot of the stairs.
"Mrs Hudson! How're you? How's the hip?" Putting on her smiling facade, Molly addressed Mrs Hudson.
"Fine love, just fine. Are you looking for the boys?"
"Yes, er, Sherlock told me to come round.. For an experiment." Molly was a terrible liar, always had been, but she seemed to pull the wool over the land lady's eyes.
Mrs Hudson chuckled; "They left about an hour or so ago, that lovely detective called them with a case. Oh I do love it when Sherlock has that glint in his eye!"
Stood frozen to the core, Molly felt numb. "Glint?"
"Yes love! That lovely twinkle in his eye when he's got a case! Yo can tell he's truly happy, truly in his element!" Heading back to her flat laughing, Molly clenched her jaw a bit too tightly. Right. She thought to herself, that's it. Sod him, he's buggered this up now.
Molly marched home, feeling an overwhelming sense of déjà vu. She got home eventually and picked up her mobile.
Enjoy the case Sherlock. Call me when you've stopped being a selfish bastard. -M