Ok, no parties this time. But there's some nice fluffy stuff coming your way! I took some artistic liberties in this one. That probably makes it sound like a much bigger deal than it is...It's not that big of a deal. But anyway, I took something about Sherlock and his past and made it fit into the present of this story. It seemed to fit nicely! I'll be brief this time around and let you get to reading. Have fun! ;)
Molly stood patiently at the butcher shop as she waited for her purchases to be wrapped up. She looked at her hands and groaned quietly. They were dirty and dry from working in her garden earlier in the day. She didn't mind helping the cook and the housekeeper sometimes, since they kept a very small staff. But it was a bit discouraging at times when she wanted to look her best. And there had been more of those sorts of times recently. She was grateful that her association with the Holmes family had granted her inclusion in some of the higher society of the area recently, but it also regularly reminded her of how very different she was from some of those fine ladies.
It wasn't as if Molly Hooper wanted to be like all of them. She didn't want to be just another Janine Hawkins who looked beautiful all the time, but could do nothing to care for herself if need be. But sometimes, sometimes, she really wanted to feel beautiful. And she really wanted to be noticed...especially by the one man in particular who seemed bent on refusing to notice her.
She rubbed her hands together a little and wiped them again on her apron, with little success. That was when she happened to look up, and see the last person she'd ever expect to see coming out of the back of the butcher shop...
"Mr. Holmes! H-hello," she said nervously. "What a surprise seeing you here."
"Is it?" he said looking confused, as if wealthy gentlemen frequent butcher shops every day. "Should I not be here?"
"No, I simply meant...never mind," she smiled. She glanced at the parcel in his arms. "So are you um, on an errand for the house?"
"No indeed. My own errand," he smiled, patting the paper wrapped bundle under his arm. "I have secured a bit of an arrangement with the butcher. He's been kind enough to supply me with a few items to use for experiments, in exchange for a favor, of course. I was able to tell him which of his employees has been stealing from him." Sherlock smiled again, looking pleased with himself.
"I see. Well I'm sure he was grateful." Molly tried no to laugh aloud in amusement at the whole scenario.
"Of course. At least as grateful as I am to have an activity for today."
Just then, the butcher stepped over to them. "Here you are, Miss Hooper."
"Thank you so much." Molly handed the man some coins after she'd placed the wrapped meat in her basket.
He tipped his hat to Sherlock and Molly. "Good day, Miss Hooper, and good day, Mr. Holmes. And thank you again!" He winked at Sherlock.
"Any time, Mr. Angelo," Sherlock nodded, and he and Molly exited the shop.
They stepped out into the sunshine and Molly was pleasantly surprised when, without a word one way or the other, he continued walking alongside her.
"I was going to be stopping by Seaborne later this afternoon. It's been a few days since the Hawkins' ball, and I still haven't returned Miss Morstan's gown. She's going to think I'm terribly ungrateful." Molly shook her head at herself.
"It would take more than that for Mary to think badly of you, or of anyone. She's more sensible than that."
"That's good of her."
"She knows what real troubles are, and I don't believe she counts a borrowed gown as one of them," he said flatly.
"Oh," Molly said, thinking about his words. Soon after, she added, "Is she well?"
"Oh yes," Sherlock smiled quickly. "She's well now. But she is certainly no stranger to difficult times."
Molly didn't want to pry anymore, so she planned to change the subject. Before she had any time to invent something herself though, a distraction was given to her in the form of a vendor on the market street.
"Oh my goodness!" Molly exclaimed, immediately halting in her tracks and setting down her basket of goods. "Aren't they the most adorable creatures?"
Molly had crouched down next to a small pen with about a half dozen little Irish setter puppies all jumping around inside. Sherlock stood by, seemingly unmoved as Molly made all sorts of cooing noises and the puppies crowded around her hands, each desperately trying to get as much attention as possible.
"Lovely aren't they?" the man asked as he saw Molly by the pen.
"They are wonderful! You're selling them, I take it?" she asked.
"I am, and at a fair price too! Are you interested?" the man asked.
"Oh no, not for me. I love them, but I can't take on anything else right now." Just then Molly noticed that one of the puppies had moved a couple feet over in the pen and was standing up on its hind legs yapping upward in Sherlock's direction. "Mr. Holmes, I believe he's quite taken with you," she laughed.
Sherlock was standing statuesque with his hands clasped behind him, trying to avoid the appearance of caring about the tiny animal who did clearly seem interested in him. He cleared his throat and said, "I can't imagine why."
"You can take him out if you like, sir," the seller offered.
"That's quite alright," Sherlock said quickly.
"Oh, you really should! Look at him, he's crying now!" Molly said with a little pout in the puppy's direction as she watched the animal whimpering.
Sherlock really didn't consider himself the sort of man to enjoy the company of a pet...but he took another look at the puppy who was whining up at him, and he figured it couldn't hurt just to hold him for a moment, if only to calm him down.
He placed his bundle into Molly's basket, then bent down and lifted the puppy up from the pen and held him against his chest. The animal's shiny brick colored fur felt so soft, and he was instantly licking Sherlock's hand in gratitude. The puppy seemed to calm though as Sherlock held him.
"Mr. Holmes, he loves you! Have you ever had a dog before?" Molly asked as she gave the puppy a pat, earning herself some licks on the hand.
"No, never. I've never exactly had much interest in owning animals." Sherlock looked down at the puppy and it licked him on the chin. Molly noticed the way it made Sherlock smile for a second, then he quickly set his mouth straight again.
"Well, perhaps I'd better set him down again," Sherlock said and bent to put the puppy back with the rest of its litter. The puppy immediately began hopping up again and whining. Sherlock looked at the seller frowning. "What is the matter with him?"
"Nothing is the matter with him." The seller laughed. "He just likes you, sir!"
"Mr. Holmes, you should get him!" Molly urged.
"Oh, no no. I couldn't do that," he said, but the words were obviously halfhearted and he spoke them while continuing to look down at the whimpering creature.
"I'm quite sure the rest of the household would enjoy him as well. Wouldn't Dr. Watson and Miss Morstan love him?" Molly was clearly becoming excited by the idea. She lifted the puppy up to calm him down, and he relaxed a little in her arms.
"Well, I- I wouldn't know what to do with him," Sherlock protested.
"You'll have to learn I suppose." Molly gave the puppy's head a kiss and then smiled at Sherlock. "He'll keep you from getting bored won't he?"
Sherlock wavered for another minute as Molly snuggled with the animal.
"They're quality animals; full blood Irish Setters," the seller added, seeing that Sherlock was likely to cave. "He'd make a loyal companion and an obedient pet, if he's properly trained. What do you say, sir?"
"Well, I..." Sherlock took one more look at the puppy in Molly's arms. "Alright, I suppose so!"
Molly did a little clap of her hands while still holding onto the puppy, as Sherlock began to go about paying the man.
Five minutes later, Sherlock was walking along with Molly while holding a puppy in his arms. He voiced the thoughts in his head aloud.
"How did this happen? I ventured into the market today to get internal organs of animals, and somehow I've also come home with a puppy! One doesn't seem to go with the other!"
"I think it's lovely," Molly smiled. "And you can think of him as an experiment of sorts. I mean, you'll want to avoid doing anything damaging of course. But training him and caring for him is in itself a sort of experiment. I'm sure you'll enjoy it!"
"Perhaps." He looked down at the puppy and earned another lick on his chin. "I'll set him down a bit. See how well he follows when called."
"You'll have to name him. He has to learn to come when called. If you don't name him, how well can he learn that?" Molly laughed.
Sherlock set the little fellow down and he seemed quite content to follow at Sherlock's heels.
"I've never had to name anything before. How exactly do I pick a name?"
Molly shrugged. "Well, it could be anything really. Most of the time, you come up with a name that means something. Think of places, thing, and activities that you love. And perhaps you could think of something that fits him. Maybe something about the way he looks or acts."
Sherlock watched the dog as he trotted clumsily along beside him, desperately trying to keep up. His dark reddish fur shone a little in the sunlight...Red.
"Redbeard," he whispered.
"What?" Molly asked.
Sherlock cleared his throat, looking straight ahead of him and not at Molly. "I said...Redbeard. That's what I'll call him."
"Oh how perfect!" Molly grinned. "After the pirate, right?"
"Yes. I um, I used to enjoy pirates as a child. Did a lot of reading on the subject, much to my family's dismay of course."
Molly giggled. "It fits so well then. It's a name that means something to you, and it's perfect for the little fellow as well. What a perfect name for you, right, Redbeard?" she cooed down to him. The puppy bumbled along and with his ears flapping against his little head, making Molly laugh at the sight.
Soon the path split, and it was time to part ways. Sherlock knew he probably shouldn't have kept her walking with him for that long, but somehow it seemed wrong to push her off when they were both going the same way. Especially with the new puppy being of interest to her. He wasn't sorry to have her walk with him either. He didn't bother telling himself by now that he didn't enjoy her company.
"You will be at Seaborne later today then?" he asked as they stopped walking where the road split.
"I will, yes."
Redbeard continued to trot along ahead of them, giving Sherlock the chance to call him by name for the first time. The puppy immediately turned at the sound of Sherlock's voice and came running back to jump excitedly at his ankles. Molly laughed at the dog's immediate attachment to Sherlock.
"I suppose that next I will have to work on teaching him not to jump up," Sherlock smirked.
"All in good time," Molly smiled. She crouched down, and that made Redbeard turn his attention to her for a moment. "You be a good boy, Redbeard! Be a good dog and listen to your master. Perhaps I'll see you later." She ruffled the dog's ears and he licked her hand.
Molly stood up and looked at Sherlock again. "Congratulations on your new friend, Mr. Holmes. I think you made a splendid choice. You two will get on wonderfully."
"I hope so. He seems a bit overexcited and jovial...Not exactly like me." His eyes widened as he spoke.
"Oh, but those are the very best sort of relationships to have! The qualities of the one person make up for the lack of them in the other, and vice versa. Wouldn't you agree?"
Sherlock nodded as he looked down at her. "I suppose so," he answered softly.
"Well, good day, Mr. Holmes." Molly smiled, and then she turned to start down the path.
"Good day, Miss Hooper," he added, and he looked down at the puppy who had reclined at his feet and begun gnawing at the toe of his shoe.
"Come along, Redbeard," he said firmly as he began walking again. "Let's go home."
The puppy jumped up, following him in an instant.
Anthea dismounted her horse and tied the reins to a branch of the large tree she'd stopped under. She took a deep breath of the fresh air and leaned against the tree's huge trunk. It had become unbearably stuffy in the house that afternoon, and it wasn't so much to do with the temperature either. She was having such a difficult time since coming here, coping with Mycroft's behavior towards her. He wasn't constantly working, so that meant the state of their marriage had become much more difficult to ignore. There was less to distract from the problems they had.
Lately, it wasn't just his indifference that bothered her. It was as if he was...holding back. Sometimes, on a few recent occasions, she'd seen the way he was looking at her. There was just a ghost of longing in his gaze. But he would quickly look away if she noticed. The Holmes boys truly did not know what to do with their emotions.
She stayed there for quite a while, enjoying the peace and time to think. After a while though, she saw Mycroft riding over to the tree as well.
"Mother sent me out to look for you," he said with a tone of irritation. "We will be having tea shortly."
Anthea smiled up at him. "Come down from the horse, darling. I want to show you something."
"I wasn't sent to stay out here with you, Anthea," he sighed.
"Just come down here...please," she asked gently.
Mycroft hesitated for a moment, but finally dismounted and walked over to her.
Anthea sighed contentedly. "Isn't it lovely, right here, under the tree? It's shady, but you can still feel the warm breeze. You can look out at the hills, or you can look up and watch the branches moving in the wind...I feel like I can breathe out here." She closed her eyes as she drew a deep breath and let it out slowly.
Mycroft couldn't help but watch his wife as she drew her breath that was apparently easier out here than inside the home. A few glossy dark waves of hair blew in the wind and her face and chest were a little rosy from the riding. He swallowed hard and looked away. Sometimes he wondered how he'd dared to ask such a woman to spend the rest of her life with him. What sort of fool had he been?
He didn't notice that Anthea's eyes had opened and she was now looking at him. She turned her body so she was leaning her side on the tree and facing her husband.
"Mycroft," she said softly, which made him look over at her, almost seeming frightened.
Anthea took another step closer. "Kiss me."
Mycroft's face began to contort in a frown. "What? Here?" he asked incredulously.
"Why not?" she asked, moving to stand in front of him. "We're alone. Don't you want to kiss me? Isn't it at all tempting? Here we are on this beautiful day, with not another soul in sight, and you can do whatever you like. Why not give your wife a kiss?"
"We are supposed to be heading back in for tea and-"
"What are you afraid of, Mycroft?!" she demanded.
"I am not afraid of kissing you! I have kissed you before!"
"But only on your terms it seems," Anthea asked, still looking at him, almost challengingly.
Mycroft stared back at her, opened his mouth for a moment to make more argument, then closed it again. "Fine...one kiss," he said, almost begrudgingly.
Anthea stood her ground, waiting for Mycroft to make a move. She refused, on principal to do this for him. As he took a step forward and looked at her, Anthea realized that she wasn't used to seeing this. She wasn't sure she'd ever seen her husband kiss her in the light of day. Mycroft leaned down and finally pressed a light kiss to her lips.
At the contact of his lips though, Anthea felt the need to take action, lest he retreat too quickly. She brought her hands up, wrapping her hands around the back of his neck, and she returned the kiss with more vigor than he had put into it. It didn't actually take much coaxing to get his lips to part, and she was surprised when he tilted his head a bit and began to deepen the kiss...
But almost as quickly as the kiss began to improve, Mycroft brought it to a halt. He gently grasped her wrists and pulled her hands away from his neck, while pulling his lips away from hers. He stepped back and drew some rather labored breathes as he looked away from his wife.
"Mycroft?" she began, trying to step closer to him again.
"We need to get back, we've wasted enough time," he said quickly, and mounted his horse. "Come on, they'll be waiting for us."
Anthea's face fell as she looked up at him. "Forgive me for having wasted your time, husband. I won't keep you." She climbed up un her own horse, and started it walking in the other direction. Mycroft turned and called out to her.
"Aren't you coming?"
Anthea called back over her shoulder. "No, I'm not! I'm going to ride some more. You'll have to make my excuses for me. If you are going to insist on pushing me away, Mycroft, do not be surprised at the logical results!"
She rode off, leaving Mycroft to watch her helplessly. And as he slowly turned his horse again to head back to the house, it was difficult to ignore the uncomfortable ache that was developing in his chest.
"I can't tell you how much it meant to me," Molly said honestly, as she sat across from Mary in the beautiful drawing room. "It really was thrilling to be able to wear it."
"It was no trouble, of course! It suited you perfectly. You may ask again any time you wish. In fact, I very much hope you do. I hope you'll get invited to every event this summer! You're a welcome presence, to be honest. One can easily tire of the vast amount of self-importance after a while!"
Molly laughed and blushed. "I'm glad that my company is tolerable. Sometimes I'm not sure quite what I'm doing here."
"You're among friends." Mary smiled. "That is what you are doing here."
Molly smiled back gratefully. "Well, I mustn't stay much longer. Perhaps I'll make it back home in time for dinner if I leave soon...But I did need to see Mr. Holmes briefly before I go."
"Ah yes, Sherlock should be easy to locate. We'll just listen for the pitter patter of little paws and I'm sure we'll find him quick enough," Mary giggled.
"Is everyone enjoying the new member of the household then?"
Mary tipped her head in thought. "Well, I'd admit that some are less pleased than others. I'd venture to say you can guess who they are! But it seems little Redbeard is rather skilled at winning people over, so I'm sure he'll be in the entire household's good graces before long...And in addition to Redbeard's skills of winning over hearts, I heard you had a bit to do with the decision." She smiled slyly.
Molly blushed again. "Oh, um, really?"
"Absolutely. In fact, when I asked Sherlock why he decided to get the puppy, the first thing out of his mouth was, 'Miss Hooper thought I should get him.'"
"Blaming it on me then?" Molly laughed.
"I'd take that as a compliment, Miss Hooper. Sherlock Holmes is not a man easily moved." She lifted one eyebrow as she spoke the words.
"Yes," Molly said after letting out a long breath. "I know he isn't."
Mary gave her one more smile. "Well, I'll just have someone go and fetch him for you."
Just then, Mrs. Hudson walked by the drawing room door.
"Oh, Mrs. Hudson!" Mary called out, getting the woman's attention. "Do you know where Sherlock is at the moment?"
"Oh yes, he is in his lab. I've just come from there. He's doing something disgusting again!" the older woman wrinkled up her nose.
"Would you perhaps be able to get him for us? I hate to be a bother, Mrs. Hudson, but Miss Hooper needs to see him before she leaves."
"Oh no, that's alright," Molly cut in. "You've only just come back upstairs. I'd hate to send you all the way back down again just for me! If he's in his lab, I can go find him myself. I do know where it is."
Mary and Mrs. Hudson exchanged a quick glance, and then looked back at Molly.
"If you're sure that's alright with you, Miss Hooper," Mary smiled.
"Of course, it's no problem at all." Molly got up as she spoke. "I won't take much of his time; I just need to give him something."
Molly said her goodbyes and left the room. Mary and Mrs. Hudson looked back at each other as they heard her steps become faint in the distance.
"I hope she does give him something!" Mrs. Hudson whispered.
Mary covered her mouth as a laugh came snorting out. "Mrs. Hudson!" she chided playfully.
"Forgive me, but I do! That man needs...something!" She shook her head, unable to come up with anything more eloquent. "Perhaps she's just the woman to slap some sense into him!" Mrs. Hudson winked at Mary and left the room humming.
"Perhaps she is," Mary whispered to herself.
Sherlock peered into the microscope and mumbled something to himself before leaning over to make some notes. Just then, he felt Redbeard stir from where he was curled up next to his feet. The puppy jumped up and took a few steps in the direction of the door right before Sherlock heard the light knocking.
"Come in," he called.
The door swung open slowly and Molly poked her head around the corner. "Hello!" She quickly crouched down to the ground though, as Redbeard bounded happily over to greet her. "Oh my, look at you! All settled in, aren't you?"
Molly stood back up and walked over to Sherlock with Redbeard in tow.
"Here on your errand I suppose?" Sherlock asked as Redbeard excitedly bounced around between the two sets of feet.
"I was, yes. I feel much better now that I've returned the dress. I was becoming afraid something would happen to it if I held onto it too long!"
"What exactly could happen to it?"
"Oh who knows? A million different things I'm sure. I'm not exactly fit for a dress like that," she said with a shrug. "I felt a bit like I was a child playing with costumes."
Sherlock shifted slightly and looked back into the microscope, as an aid to making his next words come out with more easily. "It didn't appear that way."
"Didn't it?" she asked hesitantly.
"No. The gown...suited you. You looked...you looked lovely," he uttered quietly, still without raising his head.
Molly could have forgotten to breath, but finally gulped in some air before answering him softly. "Oh, well that's, um...thank you so much."
"No problem," he said quickly, and finally stood to face her again, not needing the buffer of the microscope so much anymore.
She mentally shook herself back to reality and spoke again. "Well, I don't want to forget why I came down here. I didn't want to leave without seeing you." Molly halted and frowned at herself, blushing at her wording, as Sherlock smirked a little.
"I- I just meant, I had something to give you. I brought something for you." Molly reached into the pocket of her dress and produced a rolled up sheet of paper which she then handed to Sherlock. "It's the sketch of the bee's wing. I made it a bit tidier, so I wanted to give you the final product."
Sherlock rolled the paper open and held it down on the table to examine it. She had vastly improved on it. The lines were so clean, and the shading was magnificent. It looked so real. It's beauty wasn't only in its accuracy though. It was beautiful simply as a piece of art. Sherlock was quite for a while as he stared at it.
Molly wrung her hands nervously. "So, um, that's yours. You can do whatever you like with it. It's not anything special really, but I just wanted to give it back, since I said I would. So you have it now, and I'll well-"
Sherlock cut off her rambling. "I'll frame it."
Her jaw went slack. "What?"
"Yes, I'll frame it," he said matter-of-factly. "There's a wall over here with little on it anyway. I believe I'll start a bit of a collection. This will make a fine start to the wall of microscopic discoveries!" He added a grin.
"Really?" she asked, blushing. "You like it that much?"
"Yes of course," he answered quickly.
"Well I'm...so glad. And be sure to tell me, any time you like, if you'd like me to sketch anything else for you. I'd be more than happy to help."
"Excellent," he said with a half-smile. Sherlock happened to glance down and saw that Redbeard was gently gnawing at the hem of Molly's dress. "Redbeard, no!"
He leaned down and scooped the puppy up, releasing its hold on Molly's skirt. "You'll rapidly wear out your welcome if you destroy garments on your first night at Seaborne! And how incredibly ungrateful to choose the dress worn by the woman who made sure you got a home today." As he spoke those last words, his eyes slowly moved away from Redbeard and connected to Molly's.
"It seems I am indeed taking the blame for this," she said softly while smiling. "I don't think it really took much work convincing you though."
"I wouldn't have even stopped. I never would have done anything other than walk past that bunch of puppies. So I'd say Redbeard should be rather thankful to you. He can't exactly speak though, so perhaps I'll have to do it for him." Sherlock pressed his lips together before opening them again and dropping his voice. "Thank you, Miss Hooper."
Molly looked up at him for a moment, just enjoying the feel of his eyes being so securely connected to her own. She slowly began to smile as she answered him with a small laugh. "Well then, you're welcome...Redbeard."
Molly stepped forward, and reached out to scratch behind the puppy's ears. She even leaned in and pressed a kiss to Redbeard's head. Unbeknownst to her, Sherlock looked momentarily awestruck as he had to process her proximity, and the fact that she smelled...really appealing. Some sort of natural combination of the outdoors, food, flowers, and spices. It was overwhelming, and yet he felt a loss when she backed away.
She gave Redbeard's head one more pat as she took a couple steps away. "Well, good evening, Mr. Holmes."
"Yes, good evening, Miss Hooper. And give your father my regards."
"Of course. Good evening, Redbeard," she said in a sweet voice, making the puppy tilt his head at the sound.
Molly Hooper left that evening, without knowing how sorry Sherlock was to see her go. She didn't know that he couldn't concentrate on his experiments for a whole hour. She didn't know that he eventually abandoned his project and sat on the floor with Redbeard who promptly curled up on his master's lap. And she didn't know that when Sherlock bent to press his nose to the puppy's soft little head, the detective closed his eyes...
Because he could swear he still smelled her.
I hope everyone enjoyed my introducing little Redbeard into this! I thought it would be a nice tool to draw Sherlock and Molly closer, and also bring out Sherlock's softer side. Clearly Sherlock's feelings are becoming more prominent and more difficult for him to ignore. But there's still more of the story to tell! So he can't go proclaiming his love yet! Important things will happen soon though...Side note, I realized that I didn't think too hard about the challenge of taking on a fic with not one, not two, but THREE romantic ships sailing! And let me tell you, it's not easy to balance those all those couples. Obviously I focus mostly on Sherlolly, but I keep trying to give adequate attention to Mythea and Warstan. Phew! These people are tiring me out haha! Anyway, I'm out of here for tonight after I post this on Tumblr. Nighty night! ;)
Thanks again to Pillowslave for my lovely editing! You're awesome. Yeah, shut up, you know you are. ;P