Chapter 2
"I must be dreaming!?" she exclaimed.
"I can assure you this isn't a dream."
"Shut up."
Molly began pacing back and forth, "How drunk did I get? This can't be real... Mary!"
She whipped around to face 'Sherlock'.
"How much did she pay you? Hmm? Tell me! Is there hidden cameras around here!?"
Molly turned to look around the flat, "HA-HA, very funny Mary!" she shouted to the air.
Sherlock rose his brow at the insane woman shouting, "There's no cameras here." he told her,"Clearly you're insane and in need of medical attention."
Molly turned to glare at him, "I'm insane? Me? Says the man claiming to be Sherlock Holmes, who by the way isn't real!"
She began pacing again but stopped as soon as she heard a voice coming from the stairs, "Sherlock, what the hell is all that noise!? I can hear it from my—"
The sandy haired man looked at the scene in front of him, he stared at Molly and then at Sherlock, before his eyes settled on Molly again. He looked her up and down and rose his brow at her outfit.
"Sherlock..." he said, "Why is there a prostitute in our flat?"
Molly opened her mouth, but quickly closed it...did he say 'our flat'? She stared at the shorter sandy haired man with his ridiculous mustache, in the books Sherlock would always comment and tease John Watson about his mustache and boy was he right... Wait! They weren't really them! But wow, what great actors they were... wait did he just call her a prostitute?
"I'm not a bloody prostitute!" she yelled.
"Oh sorry... Lady of the night? Is that the term people are using now?" He said before turning to Sherlock, "Did you hire her to help you with an 'experiment' like the last one, or did you actually..."
"SHE'S NOT A PROSTITUTE!"
"I'M NOT A PROSTITUTE!" Shouted Sherlock and Molly at the same time.
"Irene Adler wasn't a prostitute either." inquired Sherlock, "She was a dominatrix, there's a difference."
John closed his mouth and smirked, "Right... What are you then?"
Molly crossed her arms over her chest, "I'm a pathologist at St. Bart's."
Both of them looked at her, "A woman pathologist? That's very...unheard of."
"Yeah? Well... Your mustache is horrendous Sherlock was right." she said defensively.
John took a step back and put a hand over his mustache, "Excuse me? You can't just come into my home and insult me! Sherlock do something about your...pathologist."
Both John and Molly looked at Sherlock who was trying hard to hide the amusement in face, he looked away from the pair and settled his eyes at the doorway where they soon heard a pair of footsteps.
"Yoo-hoo! Boys! What's all the ruckus? Do you have a new case? I didn't hear anyone at... Sherlock...John... Why is there a prostitute in you flat? You know how I feel—"
"For the last time I'M NOT A PROSTITUTE!"
Molly sat in the middle of the room, John and Sherlock each sat in their own chairs staring at her. Molly was thankfully giving one of Sherlock's dressing gowns and was now nervously fiddling with her hands. She was processing the new found information in her head and came to the conclusion that she wasn't dreaming and that she was in fact back in the 1930's (after looking out the window and seeing a completely different London) either Mary was secretly rich and somehow managed to hire all these people and take her to a fake movie set just to pull a prank on her or...
"Where are you from?" said the baritone voice breaking her thoughts.
Molly's head snapped up, "London."
"What year?" he asked her curiously.
"Two-thousand and fourteen."
John blinked in awe and turned to Sherlock, "She's lying... She has to be this isn't...possible."
Sherlock let out a sigh, "It is more than possible; it is probable." he told his companion.
There was a knock on the door and Mrs. Hudson came in with a tray and tea, the three stared at her as she set the tray on the table and handed one to Sherlock. Sherlock shook his head and Mrs. Hudson offered it to John which he gratefully took, the older woman turned to face Molly and handed her a cup.
"I'm sorry I called you a prostitute, dear. I had no idea John's cousin was coming to visit. I didn't hear you knock."
"Your herbal soothers really do a number on you, Mrs. Hudson. Now please... leave." said Sherlock.
Mrs. Hudson tsked before shaking her head and walking away, "I need to have a talk with your mother about manners." she said as she made her way don the stairs.
"Tell us more." said Sherlock.
Molly told him about her job, what it was like to live in the 21st century. She noticed how curiously they watched her, especially Sherlock, it made her feel...mousy. To have a person give her such an intense stare she didn't know if he believed her... or probably just thought she was a nutter. Finally she told them about Sherlock Holmes and John Watson (as she knew them).
"What?" said John.
"You're...er... Characters from a book... Or at least you are where I'm from." she told them, "You help DI Lestrade with cases. You solve murders and sometimes even save the world. Your nemesis is the evil James Moriarty who alongside Sebastian Moran, who I've concluded is his version of John, sometimes go to the extremes to get your attention, like when he kidnapped John and put him in the glass tank that began filling up with water! But luckily for him you were able to solve the puzzle and get to him before it was to late! It was brilliant! The whole thing was brilliant!"
Molly looked up at the men where were staring at her with both confused and concerned eyes (Oh she fucked up didn't she?)
"...How? How did you know about that?" said John, "That just happened last week..."
"I'll take it." said Sherlock suddenly.
"What?" said Molly and John at the same time.
"I'll take your case... MRS. HUDSON!" he shouted suddenly.
Molly stared at Sherlock and smiled, "You'll help me get back home? Wait... What do you mean 'you'll take it'? Was there a chance you weren't? What were you going to do with me? Throw me out?"
"Yes." he replied nonchalantly.
"You arse!"
Mrs. Hudson bounded up the stairs, "What is it now, Sherlock?"
"Take a few notes from my wallet and go buy Miss Hooper here some clothes. It's a shame all her luggage went missing."
Mrs. Hudson looked at all of them before nodding, "I have great taste, dear. Don't you worry you're pretty little face."
After Mrs. Hudson left John cleared his throat.
"So you really think my mustache is horrendous?"
"Yes." said Sherlock and Molly in unison.