So it was a 100% consensus that Molly should stay...and well, of course she should. It wouldn't be much of a Sherlolly fic without her ;). Thank you for all your comments; I'm glad you're finding the new turn of events intriguing, I hope their reactions to it are realistic. Anyway, on with the story.
Oh and Happy Valentines's Day!
Chapter 8
As he saw her jaw tighten he knew it was a lost cause, 'Sherlock Holmes if you think I am going to leave you alone with this you've got another thing coming. If it's not safe for me then it's just as not safe for you. Are you going back to London? No, I didn't think so, so neither am I!'
He couldn't help but be a little impressed with her outburst. His lips twitched as he tried to suppress a smile but she saw and after initially frowning she couldn't help but smile in return. 'Fine, you can stay, but we need to take precautions. We'll eat somewhere else this evening and make sure anything we drink is sealed, water...or wine...whatever we can be certain hasn't been tampered with.'
He continued, 'I suspect the drugs were administered in our drinks, can you remember them being left at all or seeing anybody near them...anything like that?'
Molly gave it some thought before she recollected ordering one set of drinks from Adrian then nipping to the loo whilst he was serving them. When she'd got back they were waiting for her on the bar. She recalled the event for Sherlock adding, 'Adrian was busy serving others when I got back, it could have been anybody in the bar last night.' As far as Molly could make out half of the village had been there. She'd even seen the vicar at one point sipping on a pint and chatting to a man whom Sherlock had informed her was Lord Sladen.
The results of the blood tests gave Molly some peace of mind; neither her nor Sherlock had any STDs of any kind and as she was on the pill at least she didn't have to worry about a pregnancy scare. The tests also and predominantly gave Sherlock some extra lines of enquiry to follow up. None of the drugs were easily available so he wanted to check local pharmacies and doctors although nowadays people could order almost anything online and have it delivered to their home.
They went round the shops and surgeries local to the village with Sherlock flashing a badge which looked suspiciously like Lestrades in order to get people to talk but it once again came to nothing. Molly could tell that Sherlock was getting increasingly frustrated and in the end they agreed to go back to the pub so he could spend some time in his mind palace. Molly picked up some chips on the way and decided to eat in her room to give him some time alone.
It didn't help that there was a certain awkward politeness that seemed to exist between them now. Sherlock was being unnaturally nice to her and it just didn't feel right. She knew that he was still blaming himself to some extent for what had happened. But since their initial conversation neither of them had really talked about it or how they felt.
Molly sat in her room with every light switched on trying to tell herself that she was OK and that she was safe as she absentmindedly picked at the chips. Flashbacks from the night before still haunting her as they had all day. She was angry...angry with whoever had done this to them, forcing them to degrade themselves for others entertainment. And underneath it all Molly was disgusted with herself for having enjoyed it, for still feeling turned on when she recalled the feel of him moving against her, his hands on her skin, his mouth on her mouth. She knew this reaction was only partly the drugs. It had fulfilled a long held desire that she'd had for years now.
SHSHSHSHSHSHSHSH
Molly would have been most surprised if she had realised that Sherlock was similarly troubled. He'd entered his mind palace with the express purpose of cataloguing all the information they had gathered, trying to make sure he explored any gaps and came up with a plan of action for the following day. Time was running out and he hadn't made as much progress as he would have liked.
The problem was when he closed his eyes and relaxed all he saw was Molly lying naked in front of him. He groaned and wiped a hand across his face before resettling and trying again. It was after ten minutes or so that he realised his thoughts had moved away from the case and he was in Molly's room within his mind palace recalling the noises she had made as she had come, filing away how she had called out his name and recollecting the taste and the smell of her. He didn't need to open his eyes and look to know that he was hard just thinking about it. A wave of guilt washed over him, he had violated her in the most brutal way possible and what...now he was going to get off on it. No!
He sat up suddenly, breaking himself out of his meditation. He picked up the bottled water from the bedside cabinet and took a deep cleansing draft. He was also furious with himself at been outmanoeuvred. He hated to lose and he was more determined than ever to identify the ring leader. Someone in this village was toying with them and Sherlock would find out who it was and...he slid the top drawer of the chest of drawers open and moved his shirts to one side checking once again that John's gun was still there. Molly didn't know he had it but he'd felt they needed it for protection, not that it had done them much good last night. They could fool him once but it would not happen again. He would keep Molly safe now, no matter what the cost was.
MHMHMHMHMHMHMHMH
Molly eventually turned her light out just after eleven and listened to the noises in the bar below, the muffled chatter and laughter. It was no good though! Within about fifteen minutes she knew there was no way that she would be able to sleep alone. She didn't care how awkward it was she needed to be with him, she just didn't feel safe in here on her own.
She tapped on his door and he opened it looking equally tired and disturbed. Neither of them said a word as he opened the door further so she could come in. Words just weren't needed.
Molly climbed into his bed and when he joined her he put his arm around her waist holding her against him, her back to his chest. This time when the light was turned out they were both asleep within moments.
In the morning Molly awoke just as Sherlock re-entered the bedroom. She rolled over rubbing her eyes and yawning to see him drying his hair with one towel with another slung around his waist, obviously having just had a shower or bath.
She was about to say something when he slung the towel he'd used on his hair onto the bed and took the towel from his waist to dry his body.
For a moment Molly's eyes were glued to his naked form, possible as wide as saucers before she yelled and rolled away, quickly sitting up on the other side of the bed, 'Sherlock!' She said remonstratively.
'What... oh Molly you're not going to be prudish? We may have been drugged but it didn't affect my memory of events. You've already seen me naked as have I you.'
Molly blushed, 'maybe so but, but...that doesn't make us...oh, I don't know...this familiar with each other. She stood up and shielding her eyes she scooted round the bed towards the door. She hesitated as she saw his naked feet come into view knowing she'd have to get past him to exit the room. But given there was not much space she wasn't sure how to do it without brushing up against him.
He sighed and rewrapped the towel around his waist, 'happy now!'
She dropped her hand and raised her eyebrows, 'yes, thank you. I'll see you in a few minutes for breakfast...' She looked at him suddenly nervous, 'that should be OK shouldn't it, breakfast I mean, no one would drug that, would they?'
'Yes it should be fine. I'll order your usual should I?'
She nodded and thanked him before leaving; looked like polite and nice Sherlock was still in existence. Trouble was she now had a new set of naked images invading her head and these ones felt so much more real. Did he really feel that comfortable around her now? She swore she would never understand that man.
Breakfast was a fairly rushed event, neither of them feeling one hundred percent at ease in the pub anymore. Sherlock wanted them to go up to the local 'big house' and talk to Lord Sladen. He'd been investigating him online as well as through Mycroft and he had his suspicions that he might be the ring leader in all this.
The weather was once again dark and ominously overcast but they made it to the Manor House without getting wet. It must have been built about three hundred years ago from the architecture and would have belonged to the local Lord. Sherlock explained, however, that it had only been in the Sladen family for about thirty years. His father had bought it and the current Lord Sladen had inherited it on his father's death about fifteen years ago.
Sherlock rang the bell and waited, a few moments later the door was opened by a strict looking middle aged woman, she looked like some kind of housekeeper to Molly, especially given Adrian's comments about Lord Sladen's sexuality.
'Yes!'
'Sherlock Holmes to see Lord Sladen.' He handed over his card.
She glanced at it briefly before barking, 'Do you have an appointment?'
'No, but if you mention my name and tell him my brother Mycroft sends his compliments I'm sure he'll see me.'
She pursed her lips and sighed but opened the door to let them in. 'If you'll just wait here.'
She left them in the impressive hallway as she went through a set of double doors on the left.
Molly looked around at the old fashioned but monied pictures and furnishings, 'well, he's not skint then!'
'No, they made their money in coal mining over the last one hundred years or so and got out before things crashed in the eighties. The title however has been in the family for centuries although for many of the years the family had to live off their name and their wits, the original Sladen estate was sold off in the early eighteen hundreds to pay off debts.'
He turned back around as the housekeeper returned, this time she looked slightly more welcoming, 'yes, Lord Sladen will see you, if you'd like to come this way.'
She led them through a dining room and into what was obviously his study where an elderly but friendly gentleman came forward. He looked to Molly like somebody's favourite uncle.
'Mr Holmes? I take it you must be Mycroft's famous younger brother, the detective. What brings you to our neck of the woods and how can I help? Iris, can you bring us some tea and biscuits or cake or something, whatever there is? Sit down, sit down. Now who is this lovely young lady, Mrs Holmes I presume?' He took Molly's hand and kissed the back. Molly blushed and giggled a little at the mis-understanding and the old fashioned charm, he was like something out of the 1920's.
'Erm no, I'm just an acquaintance, Molly Hooper.'
'Well then Molly you are more than welcome, sit down.' He gestured them towards an ancient looking green, leather, studded settee and sat himself in a wing back chair over to the side.
'Lord Sladen...'
'Oh please, call me Jimmy, all my friends do.'
Sherlock grimaced ever so slightly but complied, 'Jimmy, we're here in the village investigating the disappearance of Lily Shepherd.'
Lord Sladen's eyebrows rose in surprise, 'really, I wouldn't have thought that was worth your while. I heard she'd run off with her boyfriend or some such. She'll turn up again in due course, no doubt about it.'
'I'm not so sure about that. The boyfriend is still around and her mother is convinced that that isn't the case and I agree. Lord Sladen have you ever come across any occultism in the village?'
Molly saw the old man's eyes narrow momentarily before he put a shocked expression on his face, 'what you mean like witchcraft? Oh my dear fellow we haven't had witches in Almsbury for a few hundred years. I think you're barking up the wrong tree there.'
'And yet you have at least twenty books in your library on just such a subject?' Sherlock waved his hand towards the bookcase on the opposite side of the room.
Lord Sladen laughed, 'well, I can certainly see why you got your reputation.' He broke off for a moment as the tea and biscuits were brought in. 'Thank you Iris.'
As the door shut behind the housekeeper he continued, 'well, OK I have an interest in spiritualism and the occult, who wouldn't living in such a place as this, steeped in folklore and history. It doesn't mean any of it is still in practice, at least not that I am aware of. But you never know in these old places, my family are still deemed as new comers and we've been here thirty years there may well be stuff going on that I don't get to hear about. Now come on, have some tea, biscuit Molly?'
They stayed another twenty minutes but weren't able to get much more information from him. He either knew nothing or was shutting them down.
Sherlock was of the opinion it was the latter although he snorted when Molly asked if he still thought Lord Sladen might be the ring leader, 'oh I doubt it Molly. He only has a head to stop his ears from flapping together.'
That final line was a description of Nigel Bruce's Doctor Watson (opposite Basil Rathbone's Sherlock) though I'm afraid I can't remember who said it. It made me laugh many years ago and I've always remembered it so couldn't resist using it here.