"Sherlock, did you hear me?"
"Hm?" He said, looking up at John with a look of annoyance.
"I said, 'Molly gets to go home today.'"
This single phrase snapped Sherlock out of his mind palace, back into 221b. Since the sun came up, he had gone back and forth between lying on the couch and pacing through the flat. Two days ago, Mycroft had contacted him with some dreadful news. Wherever Moriarty was broadcasting from, he was doing an excellent job of scrambling the signal. There wasn't a single piece of information that could trace the signal in Molly's hospital room back to him. Since this new development, Sherlock had been searching his mind palace for some clue as to Moriarty's whereabouts.
Just as he was about to make a remark to John's declaration, soft footsteps could be heard behind him. Turning around, he came face to face with Mrs. Hudson, who gave him a small smile before walking into the kitchen.
"I hope I'm not interrupting something," She called from the kitchen, as the sound of the faucet started.
"Not at all, Mrs. Hudson," John said calling back. "In fact, you're just in time."
"In time for what?" She asked, appearing in the entry way holding the tea kettle.
"It seems Miss Hooper is being discharged from the hospital today," Sherlock said nonchalantly, though he felt anything but calm indifference.
"Wonderful!" Mrs. Hudson said, smiling widely. "Glad to hear it; that poor girl has spent enough time in the hospital. It will be nice for her to return home."
"Oh, she can't go home," John said quickly. "At least, she can't go home alone."
This piqued Sherlock's interest. "Why not?"
He rolled his eyes, sighing heavily. "Sherlock, the woman has both legs in casts. How, exactly, do you expect her to take care of herself?"
John made a point, causing him to immediately begin weighing her options. Mary would suggest Molly stay with John and herself, but she would certainly refuse this. Molly was awkward and shy, but she wasn't dumb. Mary had Grace to take care of, and couldn't possibly care for Molly's needs as well. John would agree with Molly and suggest she stay with...Sherlock kicked that thought out of his mind instantly. Molly Hooper was not staying in 221b; absolutely not.
"Does she have someone who will take care of her?" Mrs. Hudson asked, breaking Sherlock's train of thought.
John shook his head. "I don't believe so; Molly is welcome to stay with Mary and I."
A soft laugh escaped her lips. "John, how do you expect Mary to look after Grace and Molly? No, no, that won't be a good fit for her. Maybe someone else we know can help her?" As she said this last sentence, Mrs. Hudson glanced knowingly over at Sherlock, whose eyes widened slightly.
"Molly can't stay here," Sherlock said too quickly. "I mean..."
John laughed. "No, Sherlock is right. Molly would be dead in a week if she relied on this drama queen to survive."
"I am NOT a drama queen!" He said loudly, before sitting quickly into his chair.
"Now calm down, dear," Mrs. Hudson said, handing Sherlock a cup of tea. "I know who Molly can stay with, where she will be well looked after."
"Where?" John and Sherlock said at the same time.
A broad smile formed on her face. "With me, of course."
Again, John and Sherlock coughed at the same time, as they sipped their tea. Mrs. Hudson made it a point to tell both John and Sherlock that she was not their housekeeper. Now, she was standing before them declaring she would single-handedly take care of a practical invalid, which included her keeping house.
"But you won't even be my housekeeper!" Sherlock declared, starring at her in mild shock.
Mrs. Hudson gave him a knowing look. "You aren't injured! For goodness sake, you made poor John retrieve your phone out of your own coat pocket at one time! Sherlock Holmes, you are the last man in need of a housekeeper."
He looked over at John accusingly. "You told her that?!"
"Hush!" She said, bring his attention back to her. "Now, John and Mary can't take her in, and you won't. The poor girls needs help, and I intend to help her." She paused a moment to allow that to sink into Sherlock's mind, before turning toward John. "When will we be going to get her?"
Looking at his watch, he smiled and took his last sip of tea. "Right now, actually."
With that, Mrs. Hudson and John walked down the stairs and out of Sherlock's flat. All that had transpired between them was still whirling through his mind, before Sherlock heard the click of the door go closed. He had never intended to dismiss helping Molly so quickly. Part of him wanted her with him, which was startling; another part didn't want her anywhere near his flat. Both parts were for the same reason. His growing affection for Miss Hooper was something he needed to sort out for himself, by himself. If she was here in his flat, he would never be able to wrestle with his feelings and come to a conclusion as to what to do with them. Despite his best attempts to keep her away, Molly would be living directly below him, with Mrs. Hudson. How was he to get his heart in check with the knowledge that she was practically in the same room as himself?
Getting up from his chair, Sherlock threw himself onto the couch and wrapped his robe tighter around himself. "Bloody feelings," He mumbled.
This was going to be interesting.