Sherlock Holmes and John Watson have been reunited for the first time since John had returned from his trip ("honeymoon" – JW; "sex holiday" – SH ). Far from sharing the anecdotes of their most recent case, or the amazing sights of the Dalmatian coastline, the two ex-flatmates bonded in a way peculiar to their own little idiosyncrasies…
"Sherlock, could you pass me the pipette please? I need to test these electrolyte levels."
"Why?" John glances up. The pipette in question in directly adjacent to Sherlock`s sleeve.
"Because it`s right next to your sleeve."
Pause.
"I mean, why are you testing electrolyte levels?"
John sighs. It was the second module in his Masters – a very taxing little module. Mary was queasy and restless at night and he wasn't getting very much sleep. God help him when a baby was thrown into the mix.
"I am doing a study, as you already know, on the effects of ageing on aldosterone levels. Aldosterone release decreases with age; Cortisol release also decreases with aging, but the blood level of this hormone stays about the same. Dehydroepiandrosterone levels also drop, although the effects of this drop on the body are not clear…satisfied?"
Sherlock looks up from his slides momentarily; moderately impressed. He silently passes the pipette and resumes his assessment.
John silently shakes his head, then resumes his analysis. "Thank you Sherlock." Teach by example.
"That`s quite all right, Molly."
John slowly looks up from his suddenly dull endeavours. Well, well…that`s new…
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Sherlock sighs. He knew this was going to be difficult. And it is.
"Do it again, Molly. Your last attempt was so far from authenticity, it felt more like a caress."
There could just be a teeny-tiny second where their eyes lock; then it is gone. Molly sighs.
"Sherlock, I am just not a natural born slapper…" Oh, for God`s sake, Hooper – it`s almost like a gift!
Sherlock merely raises an eyebrow. And tries again.
"Hit me." Baby, one more time…oh, why can`t she get that out of her head…?
Molly Hooper draws back and raises her hand, then brings it down with some force, across his cheek. There is a resounding crack which actually manages to turn his head this time. Oh God – what if…
But Sherlock is smiling.
Rubbing his reddening cheek. "Well now, that is more like it."
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Apparently, there was something about Mary Morstan.
John and Sherlock were back on speaking terms after the you-know-what; partially owing to a dramatic bonfire rescue and partially due to the soothing balm of Mary and the obvious liking she had taken to Sherlock. Molly thought Mary was a lovely woman and a great match for John. She knew jealousy wasn`t really Sherlock`s bag, so she was slightly curious to find him back at her flat one evening; a little agitated(?) and asking for a slap. John Watson may argue that Sherlock was always asking for a slap (as would Greg Lestrade, Sally Donovan and half of Scotland Yard) but this was a very literal request.
Although the buzz around Moriarty`s co-conspirator has died down somewhat, to the extent that Molly`s faux-fiancé has been recalled to other duties ("I`m ok, really. We just grew apart." Knowing looks, but what the hell…); Sherlock had concerns. About John`s new wife.
"She has the facial tics and mannerisms of a liar." Molly was shocked. Sherlock is sat at her kitchen bench, twirling his fingers around in her pot pourri. Scrunching it; lifting it; dropping it. Over and over.
"But you like her. I like her. She is very likeable…"
"I believe Dr. Crippen had a very charming bedside manner, but liking someone shouldn't blind you to their faults, Molly…"
Too right, you selfish, egotistical exploiter and sociopathic junkie. Molly`s love for him is no rose tinted spectacle. She smiles.
He looks at her closely, unable to read her expression, then –
"She knows things. A SKIP code isn`t common parlance to a medical receptionist. She had no relatives at her own wedding – even her friends are not long term; no relationship longer than two years."
Molly is horrified. How has he discovered these things? What does it mean for John…?
"She is having a baby, Sherlock! With your best friend!"
"One of the most imaginative murderers and multiple poisoners I ever knew was the mother of six children who all grew up to have well balanced lives and excellent careers. One of them became a pharmacist, come to think of it…"
A glance from Molly seems to break through his slightly inappropriate segue.
"…there are four other instances I could innumerate whereby Mary Watson (nee Morstan) may not be who she appears to be. This, in turn, could be something I cannot afford to ignore, especially in relation to your personal safety."
Molly continues in horrified status; dimly aware her mouth may slightly resemble that of a goldfish.
"I also have reason to believe that John Watson may now think that – " He slightly stumbles in his confident delivery. " – that we may have …" Looking down at the pot pourri, as if only seeing it for the first time.
"Molly, what IS this?" She removes the bowl and looks him in the eye. He continues.
"That…I might have – there`s maybe a – connection between us…" He is quite the picture. Discomforted is the word. Maybe a bit of shifty thrown in there too. Adorable. Molly doesn't let her enchantment and leaping heart betray her.
"I think there is a connection between us, Sherlock."
He stops squirming and nods slowly. "Ye – ess… but I don`t want anyone to see it. I don`t want Mary to see it, until I know who she really is. You have to show you don`t approve of me. That I am an irritant…"
"I don`t, sometimes. And you are. Sometimes. " Sherlock tilts his head, thinking it through. Molly smiles in the knowledge that she really is in his Mind Palace some of the time. She idly wonders what her location is…
"So, show her, just how much I irritate you. Show them all…"
Thus, weeks later, Molly finds herself, standing in her own lab, slapping a low-life junkie who smells of sweat, weed and god-knows-what, across his stubbly face. Three times, actually.
"How dare you throw away the beautiful gifts you were born with?" She glances briefly at John. Suitably agog.
Molly is empowered. "And how dare you betray the love of your friends? Say you're sorry."
Sherlock IS quite sorry – sorry in particular that he coached her so ably in the art of face-slapping.
"Sorry your engagement's over," holding his face. " – though I'm fairly grateful for the lack of a ring."
Oh, he`s good.
The Watsons ( and a couple of new add-ons) stare at them in amazement. Mission accomplished. Maybe she should have joined the Uni drama group? Missed opportunities, Molly…
"Just stop it." Just like they rehearsed it.
She is really hoping he is wrong about Mary…
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