Chapter Three.

Disclaimer: I still do not own any of the characters.

Molly had spent the last five days in total misery. Her mother had dictated everything that they did last week. It had been horrible. Tea Party gathering. Shopping. Meeting with people she knew in high school but never talked to. Shopping. Debutant meetings. Shopping. Constant nagging. More Shopping. Molly was quiet certain she had enough clothes to last her a lifetime. She was exhausted and tired. She just wanted to go home. She was going to get through this party with clenched teeth.

She had strict instructions to stand on the top of the staircase, plaster a huge smile on her face, and wave. She was doing extraordinary well considering the butterflies in her stomach until she saw him. Sherlock Holmes was standing in the middle of the crowd with a bewildered look on his face. She could feel her eyes grow large as she met his. They just stood there gazing at each other until her mother touched her hand to let her know they were to walk down the stairs and join the party.

Many men and women stopped to talk to her. They all wanted to shake her hand and ask her what she was doing with her life. Her mother had warned her about this. Everyone would want to talk to her. They hadn't seen her in years. They would be very curious about what she was doing, whom she was with, and where she had been all these years. Eventually she made her way to him.

She felt very small next to him. She looked up at him and couldn't look away. Every time they had been around each other Molly had always been a stuttering fool that would look away the moment his eyes met her. Maybe it was the countless hours it took making her look this good or the dress she was wearing but she was finally confident enough to keep his eye contact for longer than a few seconds. Her eyes slowly made their way down to his lips. She imagined them on hers for a half a second before she looked down embarrassed. After a moment of silence Sherlock finally broke it by greeting her with a simple, "Hello."

"Hello Sherlock." She said with a polite smile, "How is the case going?"

"Very well. I believe I know who the murderer is. I just need to make sure. Get him to confess somehow or something. There isn't any real evidence and we can't arrest him on just what I say Lestrade says."

"Who do you think it is?" Molly asked wondering if she might know the person that Sherlock assumed it was. She probably didn't or she knew who they were but never really talked to them. She hadn't seen most of these people in years and even when she did live here she didn't communicate with most of them.

"Duncan Wright."

Molly's heart dropped and her smile vanished. Duncan Wright? He couldn't have killed someone. He was always so nice. So much better than all the other boys in her grades. After the incident that made her leave he sat with her by the fountain in her backyard and they talked for hours.

"Is there a problem?" Sherlock asked obviously noting the change in her attitude.

"I just… I can't see Duncan doing something like that. Or at least the Duncan I used to know. But time changes people I guess."

She glanced at Sherlock when she noticed he hadn't responded. It looked like the wheels were turning a thousand miles a minute in his head. Then suddenly he got a wicked smile before saying, "So you know Duncan do you? That could be of great use to us."

Molly rolled her eyes. Of course it would. That is all she was good for. Being of use to Sherlock. "And what exactly would I do?"

"I am not sure yet. Since you know each other perhaps you could get him to confess."

"Yes, Sherlock we knew each other. Years ago. I am quite certain he doesn't even remember me. Why would he confess to murder to a person he once knew a long time ago?" Molly shook her head in disbelief. She couldn't believe that she was standing up for herself and not stuttering. But she was so tired. She just wanted to go home. She was already dreading this party all week and now she had to deal with the very judgmental Sherlock Holmes. "That is ridiculous. You may be a genius but you are quite daft when it comes to people. How can you know so much, yet so little?"

"I wasn't aware you were from a family of wealth. Or that you had lied about your name" Sherlock said in his low questioning voice.

"Well you've never really taken the time to find out now have you?" Molly replied with in an annoyed tone. Sherlock's eyebrows rose as a confused expression crept onto his face. Molly liked that look on him. He seemed more human when he didn't seem to know everything.

"I didn't think that there was anything else about you that I hadn't already discovered through my deductions." Sherlock said in a cool and icy voice.

"Although this may surprise you Sherlock you can't discover everything about a person in a glance." She took a deep breath and plunged into the rest of her rant, "Before you say anything about how you can. You can't. You just can't. Unless you know exactly everything that that person has been through and what they are thinking and who they are. If you don't know any of that than you know very little about them. Sure, you may know what I ate for breakfast, you may know in the way that I say mother that I hate visiting her, and yes for you it was quiet obvious that Jim Moriarty wasn't interested in me. But beyond that and other insignificant things you know nothing about me." After she finished she gave Sherlock a little curtsey and went on her way to converse with the other people in the room. She had had just about enough of Sherlock Holmes and his mouth. Although just a few moment ago she was thinking about it on hers.

Sherlock and John watched her as she walked away. Unsure of to what to say. Sherlock was taken aback. He had never heard Molly so ruthless before. What shocked him even more was how much he liked it. He loved the little fire that she had just shown. It showed that she was more than just mousy little Molly. He wasn't sure what to do next. He really did need her help. It would be of great use to have someone undercover that knew the culprit. He was going to have to apologize for whatever he did to upset her.

"So you really didn't know this about her?" John asked mystified.

"Uhm, no. She never really gave off the rich and powerful demeanor and nothing points to this part of her past. I never really looked for it though. I deducted what I needed to when it came to Molly, nothing more."

John just nodded. After a few minutes, "You know you are going to need to apologize, right?"

"I'd gathered that much."

Sherlock looked to where Molly was at the moment. She was leaving the ballroom through one of the sets of double doors in a hurry. Sherlock noted how her mother rushed after her as gracefully as possible, so she wouldn't cause a scene. He looked towards the dance floor, where they had both came from, and saw that Harvey guy cupping his cheek out of pain. Sherlock's eyebrow rose in anticipation. He wondered what could be happening. This night was getting far more entertaining by the second. He decided to follow them. He wanted to know what was going on and he needed to apologize. It seemed as though Molly was a lot more interesting then he originally thought.

He entered into what seemed to be the servant quarters when he saw Molly's mother grab her by the arm. She exclaimed in an unpleasant tone, "Where do you think you are going?"

"Where do you think mother? My bedroom! I need to gather my head and settle down." Molly shouted in a voice that Sherlock had never heard her use before.

"Do not use that tone with me missy. You may be thirty years old but you do not need to speak to me like that!" her mother replied with in a frigid tone. Molly opened her mouth to respond but shut it quickly. She glared at her mother through the small slits in her eyes. "Well now that you have seemed to calm down why don't you explain to me what had happened."

Sherlock was afraid that the reason she was so upset was because of him. He kept from shuffling his feet out of worry because he did not want to be discovered. "Did you not just see Harvey Johnson get all handsy with me out there on the dance floor?"

"No. I just saw you get rude with him in front of everyone and leave in a rush."

"I knew you wouldn't understand!"

"Of course I don't understand! There is nothing wrong here! Harvey is a nice young man. Who is single and from a very pleasant and wealthy family. Honestly I find nothing wrong in seeing you two together."

Sherlock could feel the death glare that Molly was giving to her mother. She took a deep breath before choking out, "You know perfectly well why I cannot stand Harvey Johnson. Do not stand there acting like you haven't heard what happened." Sherlock stood there in shock he couldn't believe Molly could dislike anyone as much as she seemed to dislike this man unless there was a perfectly good reason. It had to be for a horrible reason too. Sherlock gritted his teeth as he tried to figure out what this person did to her.

"I haven't a clue what you are talking about Mary. I have heard nothing."

"Do not lie to me! I know you have heard! There is no way that Mrs. Lerwick, the town gossip, didn't rub it in your face. That your gullible, clueless, strange daughter could be that dumb." Molly was breathing heavy and looked to be on the verge of crying. Sherlock clenched his fists. He wanted to hurt this guy and he hadn't even heard what he had done yet.

Alice opened her mouth to reply back to her daughter. But she closed it quickly, looked down, and looked back up with regret in her eyes before saying. "Fine I may have heard a rumor or two. But I didn't even know if they were the truth or not. As soon as you graduated you left for college and never looked back. You never told me what happened. We don't talk about anything."

Molly settled down a bit before answered quietly, "I was humiliated mother. I was in love with Harvey for years. When he actually started showing some interest in me I couldn't believe it! I thought I was the luckiest girl alive. We started secretly meeting. We decided on the day of my eighteenth birthday when you threw that huge ball for me that we would have sex. We snuck up to my room during the party. Afterwards we walked back down to ball and all his friends were waiting for us. They were laughing and giving him high fives. I had no idea what was so funny. Until I overheard them say that they just couldn't believe that he got shy little prudish Mary Ravensdale to sleep with him. Then they started handing him money. I lost my virginity because of a bet! Do you know how that made me feel? Not only that, but the whole school knew about it! I was the laughing stock of this town! At least when I was quiet and mousy I was invisible. I would much rather be invisible! I actually like being invisible. I don't get hurt. I may not dress the way you want me to and you may think I am leaving marriageable age and that no man will want me, but I do not care! Unlike you I do not need a man. I have made it perfectly fine on my own."

Sherlock smirked at the end of Molly's speech. That was one of the things he admired about Molly so much. She may be in love with him and she may go on too many dates, well more than he would prefer her to go on anyway, but when it comes down to it Molly is very independent. She is strong willed and loves her job, dare he say it, as much as he loves his.

He was brought back to reality when he heard Molly scream again, "Are you kidding me! Even after I admit to you what he is like you still want me with him? I refuse to lower myself to his level just so I can become a rich house wife."

"That is uncalled for Mary. You are being unkind and rather unforgiving."

"Unforgiving?! He ruined my senior year mother. I could stand here and argue about what he did to me for hours. But it would go in one ear and out the other. You care more about your reputation and status then you care about me." With that Molly turned around and pushed the doors in what seemed to be the kitchen open. Sherlock stayed unmoving in his hiding place. Even though he would love to give Alice a piece of his mind he knew he didn't have time to. He watched as she let a few tears slip. It may not seem like she loves Molly very much but Sherlock would have to detect that she actually does. She wiped the tears that were falling down her cheeks, she straightened her shoulders, and composed herself before stepping foot back into the ballroom. Sherlock shook his head, who knew Molly Hooper's life could be so interesting? He snuck into the kitchen and tip-toed to the pantry. Thankfully Molly and some older woman were too preoccupied with talking to notice his entrance.