Give His Heart a Break.
Authors Note: I am already getting a lovely lot of response to this story and that means so much to me. I am so glad you are all enjoying it and I hope it stays that way. Here's a little story that happened to me tonight: I thought Benedict was going to be on this year's National Television Awards and so I wasn't going to start writing this chapter so I could watch it. Took me a whole hour to realise he isn't on it this year. Mugged off or what! A final thing before I begin to write is I want to give a big shout out and thank-you to Nocturnias. Your reviews are so sweet and overall you're just a general sweetheart. You are one of those who inspire me to continue writing. Thank-you. Nevertheless, here we go! Enjoy!
Disclaimer: Unless I marry Benedict Cumberbatch, I in no way own any of this.
_
Chapter Two: Meaning Deeper.
Sherlock didn't sleep that night.
He simply stayed downstairs in the living room, crouched over the dining table, staring in to his microscope.
He couldn't sleep.
Thought after thought seemed to control his mind.
He just wasn't sure how this could happen.
He thought the other women John had been seeing at one point were boring, but Molly Hooper, well she was a whole different type of boring on her own.
Why would John ever want to spend time with her… romantically?
Sherlock scoffed at the word.
Anyone who spent time with someone in that sense was insane.
But someone, he thought was better than the rest, freely spending time with Molly in that sense he just could not get his head around.
Perhaps, Sherlock had been wrong.
John was trying to replace him with Molly.
How John could think Molly was anything like himself was beyond him.
Molly was average smart, average pretty, average sense of humour, average… average everything!
But that didn't explain why he wanted to date her.
Unless John had wanted to date him.
Sherlock had never got that feel from him though.
But then again, he hadn't realised Molly had wanted him in that sense either, not until he had seen that stupid Christmas present.
He frowned and pulled back from the microscope.
Why on earth was Molly going on a date with John?
She wanted to be with him.
Unless she is using John as a replacement him.
But why would she do that?
She knows he's alive.
Not that he would ever… go out with her.
He doesn't do relationships, or love.
It's all weakness.
His thoughts are interrupted by the pita patter of feet.
He glances at her from the corner of his eye, irritated.
Why did she have to be so loud?
"Good morning, Sherlock."
She's always too cheerful.
"Morning."
"Did you sleep at all?"
He can feel her coming closer to him.
"You were like this when I went to my bedroom for the night."
He doesn't have to look to know she's frowning at him.
"Correct."
"Why didn't you sleep, Sherlock?"
"Why didn't you wash your hair this morning, Molly?"
Did she just roll her eyes at him?
"I have to go in to work for a couple of hours. Apparently there's been a big accident and no one's sure about the cause of it. I need to do a couple autopsies."
Sherlock's head turned to hers at that.
"I'm coming."
She frowned at him, again.
"You're on house arrest. Remember last time? You started a whole online conspiracy about whether you are dead or not."
"Well done to those who believe I am not dead."
She rolled her eyes, again.
This seems to be a new habit of hers.
"That's only because they saw you! Why on earth you decided to wear your ridiculous coat, I'll never know!"
"It does its job. It keeps me warm. It keeps me dry. It—"
"I don't care, Sherlock! Because of that damned coat you left the world suspicious! Including John!" She almost growled.
That's right growled.
Sherlock had never seen her so becoming.
Perhaps, that's how she speaks while around John.
Maybe that's why John wants to go on a date with her.
"Fine."
"I'm going now. Goodbye, Sherlock."
He didn't reply.
She left the apartment.
Finally, he stood up from the chair and took of his blazer.
A faint buzz sounded from the table.
It was his phone.
Tidy your things away while I'm gone. John's coming tonight, remember. –MH
He glared at the phone in his hand.
He wanted to smash it against the wall.
He wanted to throw it out the window.
He wanted to put it to the floor and stamp on it.
He wanted to chuck it in the toilet and flush that message away.
He wanted to do a lot of things to the phone in his hand and he wasn't really sure why.
But, instead of giving in to an emotion he did not want to admit he felt, he simply closed the message and put the phone on the table again.
Another buzz sounded.
He looked down at it and glared at her name.
I mean it, Sherlock. If I come home and find your stuff still out, I'm kicking you out. –MH.
He rolled his eyes.
The amount of times she had threatened that one on him before when she had had friends coming over.
He'd never done as she'd asked before.
She'd never kicked him out.
This time, however, he did begin to remove his belongings from sight.
After all, he was still protecting John and he couldn't have him realising he was alive all because he went on a ridiculous date with a ridiculous woman.
While tidying up, Sherlock ignored another thought running through his head.
That thought being that he was doing this for another reason in which involved her.
A reason that if he thought about would mean he'd have to identify why he was doing it for her.
And that he refused to do.
Authors Note: So, here is chapter two. It's not really a proper chapter, more of a filler to be honest. The only reason I truly wrote this chapter was to let Sherlock have a little bit of thinking time and to show his relationship with Molly at the moment (which is nothing special.) I kind of have an idea of where this is going now. I think you all might like it. I'm going to get off here and go plan it out. Jealous? I think you all are! Reviews are dearly welcomed. I hope it wasn't too terrible. I don't like this chapter, at all.
Petal.