Woot another random chapter! I really have no idea where this is going, it's just a lot of fun to write. Sorry about the delay on Not My Name. My other computer decided to dump information that wasn't backed up. With it went a few chapters of this, and the next two unpublished chapters of Not My Name. Yesterday was not my day...
Enjoy!
Molly was oddly grim when Sherlock and John walked into her morgue. John assumed it was because of the children's bus crash that had occurred earlier that day, but Molly's eyes kept roving over to John. She was worried about him, Sherlock realized, but there wasn't anything to be too particularly worried about. John was perfectly fine although thanks to her he had been having tiny glitches in memory. Yet throughout their entire visit, her eyes were firmly set on Sherlock's flatmate. When John went to get some crisps out of the vending machine, Sherlock approached her, watching her as she kept careful attention on the specimen in her microscope.
"What is it?"
He saw the tiniest of internal debates on Molly's face before she smiled, "I can see his black string, out and ready to be cut."
"And that is...?"
"Really, didn't you read the book on knotcraft I gave you? If you wanted to understand what I could do, that would have been a good read since I dunno, I'm a knotcraft witch and deal with the strings that hold the universe together." Molly sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose as she looked up at Sherlock, "Sorry, bad day. Anyway, the black string when seen signifies a life about to be cut short. It emerges rarely through one's life, and tends to be a day where they are more susceptible to being killed off."
"So John could die today?"
"Yes. It's worse because his is completely showing. I know he's your favorite human and all, so I thought I should tell you."
"What would you advise?"
"Usually? Live and let die. But today I feel like messing around a bit." She held out a piece of perfectly ordinary string, "Get him to wear this on his left wrist."
Sherlock nodded, pocketing the string as John walked in, "Are we going now?"
"Just a minute. Here hold on to this so I don't lose it." Sherlock tied the string to John's hand and kept walking without any explanation, giving Molly a small smile on the way out. She smiled back and waved, making an obscene hand gesture suggesting sexual intercourse between John and himself. He rolled his eyes and continued on his otherwise ordinary crime filled day. He had come to accept this reality after a fair amount of mental kicking and screaming.
As they walked through the streets, Molly's witch friend Cassandra was strolling, arm in arm with a man who had a bull's head, laughing cheerfully at what he said, a gloomy teenager walking behind her with her eyes glued on her cell phone. The crazy murderess waved at Sherlock before muttering something to her husband.
"Does she know you?" John asked.
"Friend of Molly's."
"You seem to be hanging around Molly a lot recently."
"She's interesting." Sherlock shrugged, stuffing his hands in his pockets, about to walk away when Cassandra ran up to him.
"Oi! You! Don't ignore me!" She grinned, "We're mutual friends now! So as a mutual friend, I'd like you to give Molly this." She held up a piece of paper before sticking it in his pocket, "You'll give it to her of course, kay? Kay."
"What's it say?"
Sherlock sighed, opening up the envelope, ignoring John's question.
Sherlock, I KNOW YOU'RE READING THIS! It's not in our language after all. Destroy after reading. Don't trust Molly! I know you think you're safe being her pet but I warn you about this! If she hates you, she will kill you. If she likes you, she will tire of you. If she loves you, she will ruin you. Don't trust her! Then again you shouldn't trust me either, but DON'T TRUST HER!
Ps.
The case is witchcraft. Drop it.
