Give His Heart a Break.
Authors Note: Hey! Thank-you so much for everything! I love reading your reviews and it's an honour to see how many people are reading this and enjoying this. I hope you like this next chapter. That's about all I have to say today.
Disclaimer: I do not own Sherlock and I shall never own Sherlock. –sad face.
Chapter Six: All Part of the Plan.
Sherlock was watching Molly on the couch.
She was reading.
He wasn't quite sure why she was here.
She had only spoken a few words to him this morning.
She should be at work.
"Molly."
"Hm?"
"You're late."
"For what?"
He rolled his eyes.
She was so oblivious.
"Work, Molly."
He sighed.
She looked up at him and smiled.
"I'm taking a day off. I need to sort the flat out."
He raised an eyebrow.
"You can do that on Sunday."
"John's coming to stay over tonight."
He stilled.
He could have been a statue.
"Why?"
His voice was rough.
There was a slight grow to it.
"He wants to stay over. He's getting suspicious about not staying over."
He frowned.
"I am not staying under the stairs for the entire night, Molly."
She laughed.
Really, Molly? Really?
"I thought you could just stay in your room for the entire night."
She shrugged.
She hadn't even asked.
Always polite, Molly.
And yet she hadn't even asked him.
John certainly was becoming a bad influence on her.
It needed to be stopped.
He stood up from his chair and smiled.
Molly was still looking up at him.
Her eyebrows raised on top of her head.
"Of course, Molly."
His smile brightened.
Tone it down, Sherlock.
Molly will see right through it.
He turned his smile in to a softer one; it was more natural.
"Let's go have a coffee, Molly."
Molly's cheeks coloured a ruby red.
"You can't go out, Sherlock."
He continued smiling.
Was it starting to come off as fake yet?
He hoped not.
"Don't be silly, Molly. I much prefer your coffee."
Molly frowned.
She seemed confused.
Was she really so idiotic?
He had thought her smarter than that.
"I-I d-don't understand, Sher-Sherlock."
He forced down the urge to roll his eyes at her stammer.
"Join me in the kitchen, Molly?"
She looked unsure.
He moved forward to her.
Did her breath just hitch?
He lent forward and took a hold of her hand.
She gasped.
"Sh-Sherlock…"
"I thought we could have some chocolate digestives, too."
She bit her lip.
He pulled on the hand he was holding.
She was right up against his chest.
Her head tilted just so she could look up at him.
"Su-s-sure."
He began leading her to the kitchen.
A real smile, she could not see, settled on to his lips.
He dropped her hand once they were in the kitchen.
She put the kettle on and took two mugs from the cupboard and then began to prepare their coffees.
Black, two sugars for him.
Cream, three sugars for her.
Sherlock watched her.
Her hair was pulled back in to a messy ponytail; her face was clear of makeup – he'd never seen her look so awake. She wore a blue pair of fleece pyjama's that had ginger cats on them.
He smiled to himself.
It was just… so… so… Molly.
And Molly, she was endearing.
He could get used to seeing her like this.
He thought she looked beautiful doing the most mundane of tasks.
She didn't seem to have a care in the world.
He paused.
An unnoticeable frown fell over his face.
Beautiful?
Had he really just thought Molly Hooper as being beautiful?
That was absolutely ridiculous.
She was far from beautiful.
She was average.
Just average Molly Hooper from St. Bart's morgue.
His attention turned back to her.
She was almost finished making their coffees.
He took a plate from the cupboard and scattered a few chocolate digestives on it before setting it down on the table.
Molly turned to him with the coffees – her cheeks still shaded in red.
She placed hers down on the table and handed him his own.
He smiled at her, generally thankful.
It had been so long since she had made him a coffee.
He had missed it.
The one thing Molly Hooper was perfect at was making coffee, his coffee to be precise.
"Thank-you."
He waited for her to sit down.
She did.
She expected him to sit at the other end of the table and was shocked when he sat down in the chair next to hers.
Mentally, he praised himself.
That was the reaction he had been hoping for.
"How's life, Molly?"
She stared at him.
She seemed unsure of how to answer the question he'd thrown her way.
"It's fine, Sherlock. Why do you ask?"
He shrugged his shoulders and then placed his coffee on the table.
"Just wondering."
He lent his elbow on the table and brought his palm to his cheek, leaning in to it.
"Anything interesting happening at Bart's?"
Move in to it slowly, Sherlock.
Don't scare her too much.
She needs to believe this is natural.
"No, Sherlock. If there was a case, I would have told you. There has been nothing since that one with the four who died in unnatural conditions of natural causes."
The case had gone unsolved.
Sherlock Holmes was truly needed in the world.
"What a pity. I'm sure work must be dull for you nowadays."
He sipped on his coffee; she bit down on a biscuit.
Once she swallowed, she answered.
"A bit but I've got John for entertainment."
"Ah, John."
He couldn't help the slight sigh that slipped in to his voice.
She thought it was because he missed him.
He had no idea what it was for.
"Yes."
She didn't seem to be able to control the smile taking control of her face.
"How are things with John?"
She stared at him for a few moments.
He couldn't quite understand why.
How odd.
"Why are you even asking, Sherlock? You know everything."
He sighed.
Oh.
That's why.
What's a good excuse for this?
"I'm on break from deducing."
That wasn't exactly true but it seemed to work for her.
"Things with John… well, things with John are… Oh Sherlock, John is amazing. I never thought I'd be with someone as perfect as him."
She wouldn't be for much longer.
"That's just splendid, Molly."
She didn't pay any attention to what he was saying.
He needed to step this up a notch.
He shuffled his chair closer, deliberately letting it scrape the floor and pull her from her thoughts.
She looked towards him and jumped at how close he was in her personal space now.
"Molly, I have a confession."
Her heart began to pound in her chest.
She was sure he could hear it.
He took her hand in his, again.
He checked her pulse.
Perfect.
His thumb began to rub the skin of her hand, sweetly.
"Y-ye-yes?"
"You remember the night of your first date with John?"
She nodded, not trusting her voice.
"Well, do you remember how I spoke some rather poor words of your appearance?"
She nodded once again; he continued to rub the skin of her hand affectionately – he had forgotten he was even doing it.
"I didn't mean a single one of those words. I thought you looked exquisite that night. Molly, you had never been so beautiful." He whispered the last word; leaning in to her a little bit more.
That wasn't exactly a lie.
His eyes deliberately slipped down to her lips, so she noticed, and then back up to her eyes.
"I am so sorry for lashing out at you, Molly."
She appeared to have stopped breathing.
He waited patiently for her to speak.
She stared at him.
Time to step it up to the final step of this phase.
"I was wondering, Molly, if you'd cancel John tonight. I'd like to spend the evening with you as long as you'd like to spend it with me."
She gulped in air.
He nearly laughed at her reaction.
"W-why?"
He hadn't expected a why.
He just assumed she'd jump and squeal at him; he thought she'd be grateful for this.
What could he say?
He quickly thought of something, she'd like, before it seemed like he was unsure.
Molly wasn't that idiotic.
"I feel as if we don't know one another. We live together, Molly. I want to know you."
She bit down hard on her lip.
"You know me, Sherlock. You know everyone and anyone at the first glance."
Not true.
He hadn't known The Woman at first glance.
"I want to know you from you."
Her eyes dilated a little.
"So, what do you say, Molly?"
Once again, his eyes moved down to her lips and this time it wasn't quite planned.
Molly seemed to notice.
"I'm sure John won't mind…"
She sounded unsure.
"He won't."
Sherlock nodded his head and continued stroking her hand.
"I'll go and text John now."
Sherlock stared deep in to her eyes.
She didn't move.
He didn't move.
Molly's eyes trailed down to his lips.
Sherlock didn't even notice.
He found himself leaning in, subconsciously.
Molly was doing the same.
They were so close…
Just a few more inches and their lips would touch.
They snapped backwards.
The phone in the hallway began to ring.
Molly jumped up from the chair and began muttering to herself that it was most likely John.
Sherlock paid no mind to her.
He didn't watch her go.
What had just happened?
He didn't understand it.
He couldn't even recall if that was a part of the plan?
Surely not.
But it had to be.
He would do that on his own terms.
Yes, that was it.
It had been a part of the plan.
Oh yes!
He remembered it now.
Quite vividly.
He had planned to kiss her.
He frowned.
John just had to get in his way.
He'd rectify that tonight.
He turned his head to watch Molly.
She must have been telling John he couldn't come tonight.
He smiled a noticeably real one.
It was all part of the plan.
Or so he kept telling himself.
Authors Note: Chapter six, done! I hope you liked it! Oh Sherlock – you're quite an idiot! I love reviews, they give me fuel. So, review? :) I hope you do. I'll update this soon. I promise. If not tomorrow, then definitely Monday. I think this chapter was quite poorly written but I'm still going to give it to you.
Petal.