Sherlock had been pacing his bedroom for longer than he could remember.
He was troubled. He could not get her out of his head. The way she smiled at him whenever he said something clever, the way she always offered to help him when-
No! Enough. He shook the thoughts away.
He knew he should erase her from his mind palace when she left. It was illogical to retain information on someone who would no longer be in his life. And yet, he knew deep down that he could never bring himself to go through with it.
It alarmed him how many little pieces of information about her had edged their way into his head.
Caring is not an advantage.
Mycroft's words seared in his mind as he threw himself down onto his bed in exasperation.
The party was only two days away and he was no closer to deciding how he was going to handle what John now referred to as The Molly Problem, much to Sherlock's annoyance.
He hadn't slept in days, he was barely eating and anytime anyone tried to talk to him, he would snap at them.
"Man, he's got it bad, hasn't he?" Lestrade whispered to John as they observed the detective from the kitchen.
"He's been like this for days, worst I've seen him in a while. Still won't admit it though."
Lestrade laughed at the stubborn man and said his goodbyes to the doctor.
John walked over to stand in front of Sherlock who was slumped in his chair, looking dishevelled and utterly exhausted.
When Sherlock didn't look up, John coughed to make his presence known.
"What do you want John?"
"Get up."
Sherlock raised his head and frowned at his friend.
"Excuse me?"
"I said get up. You've been moping around this flat for weeks now. Get showered and dressed."
"Why?"
"Because we're going to pay Miss Hooper a visit."
"Doctor Hooper," he corrected, "and no John, we're not."
"YES, SHERLOCK, WE ARE!" John shouted louder than he had intended but it had the desired effect when Sherlock locked eyes with him and saw how serious he was. He sighed dramatically and sulked his way to the bathroom to get ready.
When he emerged a short while later, John couldn't help but notice he was wearing his best shirt. Funny that.
"Ready?" he smirked.
"Yes, although I'd prefer if you didn't have that stupid grin on your face," Sherlock retorted.
The taxi ride was tense to say the least.
Sherlock's mind was racing. He had not seen Molly in nearly a month and was unsure how she would react to seeing him after his rude exit from their last meeting.
They arrived at the hospital shortly after and found Molly in the lab, working at a microscope. John greeted Molly warmly while Sherlock stood back, waiting for her to see him.
"Hi John. Oh, Sherlock, I didn't expect to see you today. I thought you were avoiding me." she said cautiously.
"What? Why would you think that?"
"Because you've not been in for weeks. You keep sending John in to pick up experiments for you."
"Yes, well…" he faltered, "I've been busy."
He caught John frown out of the corner of his eye and hoped Molly had not seen. He looked back at her and found her staring at him before turning away, blushing. Sherlock observed her with a small smile, taking this opportunity to stare at her in return.
John coughed, reminding both of them he was still there.
"Molly, the reason we're here is to ask if you'd like to come out for a few drinks on Friday, as a sort of farewell?" he explained.
"That sounds lovely John, thank you!"
"Great, why don't you come to ours first, shall we say 7pm?"
"I'll be there," she smiled.
"Excellent, we look forward to it!" Sherlock replied in an uncharacteristically joyous tone before swooping out of the lab in his usual haste.
Molly and John looked at each other with puzzled expressions before John followed after his friend, sighing apologetically to the pathologist.
"See you Friday Molly," he said on his way out.
Molly smiled and waved goodbye as the doors swung shut on yet another strange encounter with Sherlock Holmes.