edit posted on 1/31/2018

hi, so I've been slowly working my way back through editing this monster as a way of hopefully being able to complete it this year. This fic is a labor of love and although I do have a passion for it's story line I think I'm ready to finish it to completion.

So if you're new - Hi! I hope you enjoy it, and if you've been here since the beginning - Thank you for your patience, there will be a new chapter (#12) hopefully by the end of February if I'm/We are lucky. I'm up to #10 right now in editing so you'll be getting it all polished up and not as disjointed as it was over the next week. There will be alerts daily with two chapters going up each until we've gotten to 11. Then after that I'm hoping that we get the newest edition in the second half of the month. *fingers crossed*

see you then, I suppose ;)

much love,

day

Part One

It was never easy to watch a fight between two people. If it was just a screaming match that was easier, but this had never been that. Two men surrounded by the circumference of people shouting for both to be the victor. Only one could truly win. That's the way this "sport" worked.

She always watched the matches. It was not because she was bored or that she had even had to. It was because it fascinated her how each mark turned out after it was all said and done. She was the one who fixed it for one of them each time. At least it had been the same person.

It hadn't always been this way, however. Molly Hooper found herself remembering that more today than ever. Tonight was a special night. A night that was not to be forgotten. It was the final night where she would be doing this. Cleaning up after he won once again. He always managed to do that. She had called him Mister Holmes, though she knew his name. Everyone knew his name. She just happened to work for his family and she hadn't deemed it appropriate to call him by his first name, ever.

Courtesy was one of the things her father had taught her. It had been planted in her head at a young age. She was almost legally an adult. The following month she would be. It was something to be excited about to most. However, Molly was just grateful to be able to do something she's been struggling to do for a while now.

Her family isn't close to be among the riches. It would have helped a bit if she was but she never spoke ill of her lack thereof wealth. If anything it made her want to work harder to do what she wished with her life. There had always been a hope from her mother before she left that Molly would make a name for herself in something glamorous. She told her several times that she "would do".

It left the young girl feeling as if she shouldn't try that route. She would be doomed to failure. Instead she was attempting to enter into a study she held promise in. She wasn't all that talkative anymore. She mostly stayed quiet these days but it was good that it wasn't required for her to speak to many when it came to her job now and what she wanted to do. Pathology was focused on the dead. It was strange that she working with the living now.

It had been a particularly horrible day when she was offered this job. Two years and three days ago exactly…

Having just left the hospital where her father was being taken care of and getting both bad news and having an unwanted conversation with her mother about her life choices thus far Molly wasn't really in the mood to do anything besides soak in the tub and have a nice cry within the comforts of her bedroom. The doctors had given Molly's father a week and a half at the most.

She hated that she couldn't just take news as it came no matter how bad it may be. She just wasn't one of those strong people who could do this on her own. That's what life had begun to feel like for her. She was alone and always had been since the day she first begun to comprehend how life worked.

Molly entered her small flat that she had been moved into upon her father's last stint in the hospital and dropped her things by the door. She slowly found her way to the tattered sofa that a neighbor had given her a few months ago and flopped onto. There was a stench surrounding this area but Molly had long since used spray deodorizers that were to help block these odors.

Sometimes they helped, other times not so much. Today was one of those times where it didn't.

There was a quilt covering most of the furniture and Molly sighed into it as she shut her eyes. This was indeed a bad day but she didn't wish to move from her spot. This would be her bed for a little while, it was nowhere near as comfortable as the small cot in the small room that was used as her living quarters but it would do.

It couldn't have been more than an hour when Molly found herself jumping awake at the sound of a couple hard raps against the door. She look at the door warily as her eyes fluttered open. She didn't move though her body gave many warning signs that she probably should. That would be best.

A few more moments where no sound was made then a couple more knocks were heard - once, twice, three times. Molly rolled clumsily off the piece of furniture and straightened herself up before unlatching the locks and cracking the door slightly. She peered through the small crack of visibility and quickly opened it fully upon seeing a man she had never seen before. He was regal in dress and appearance. Compared to him she felt very much underdressed. It was expected of course. "Hello, sir." She spoke quietly.

"You are Miss Molly Hooper, correct?" It was clear that this man was here for business, it was definite in his tone.

Molly nodded and confirmed this to be true in a firm yes. "Would you like to come in, sir?"

The man nodded before stepping quietly into her flat. As Molly closed the door and locked the bottom lock she noticed the way he looked about her home. It had an underlining of distaste. It made her feel even more inferior than she had been at first upon his appearance.

"Tea?" She asked as she gestured for him to sit at the wooden table that was tucked in a corner near her kitchenette. There were two chairs stationed right across from each other. He chose the one that had been more used.

"Yes, thank you."

Molly busied herself with making the tea. Utensils clattered as she assembled everything on a small tray that belonged to her father. Molly always served tea on this platter for him and he asked just yesterday that she take any of the dishes that she needed from the house. He had been made aware by her brother the new situation with Molly being moved out. Her brother himself was living with his bride to be in a house in the nicer side of town.

Molly never really minded that she wasn't as well liked or successful as her brother but at times she did wonder why that was. She was only now about to begin a new chapter of her life. Having just graduated high school a few weeks ago there was a lot of speculation as to what was next for her.

She pushed those thoughts to the back of her mind as she began finishing the preparations of the tea. There was someone she was to talk with now that needed her full attention, if that wasn't already obvious.

Molly carefully balanced the tray of teacups as she walked the couple of steps towards the table. She placed each cup down on each of their own saucer before turning the small boat that had milk in it and the tiny dish that held the sugar cubes. Spoons were next to each cup. Once it was settled in place, Molly pulled the chair that was vacant back eliciting a small screech as the chair was forced out of its usual position.

She winced as she took her seat and folded her hands into her lap as she glanced at the man in front of her. He still intimidated her even when he was doing something normal for anyone in the vicinity of London; having tea.

He took a sip of the tea before reaching for a few sugar cubes and mixing the brew in his cup. He tested it again and a faint smile was briefly on his face before noticed Molly staring at him. He quickly went back to business mode speaking hurriedly. "I am here on behalf of the Holmes family. You are aware of whom they are, yes?"

"Of course." They were a widely known aristocrat family that were one of the wealthiest groups of people quite possibly in the world.

"What do they want with me? How did they find me exactly?" These were both good questions, Molly rationalized as she waited for his response. She wrapped her fingers around her small cup and took a sip of it as he spoke.

"They wish to offer you a small job that they saw would be both good for your skill set as well as it being something that will ease their minds concerning the youngest of the children."

"Sherlock Holmes, you mean? What do they require me to do?"

"Yes, the younger Mister Holmes has been getting more reckless with his recreational sport of choice and needs a bit of help with cleaning up. They wish for you to tend to his wounds after he finishes his bouts. Also there has been a sum of money they are willing to supply you each month to insure you are able to get into your pathology program at King's College within a year or two. If you accept, that is of course." He took a small break to take a few more gulps of tea.

"Why would they help with that? They don't know me." Molly was perplexed.

"The Holmes are aware of the fact that their son won't allow anyone to do things for him when they were sent from the official standpoint of being appointed from a higher level. In other words he likes to have people around him that are lesser to his intellect but also a challenge. We researched you and you do have a history with medical situations. Plus you also fit with Sherlock's criteria. Helping you is merely their thanks for keeping their son from death."

Molly was silent for the few moments as she thought about this proposition. It would be good but she wasn't stupid, this could be difficult. She wasn't one who could just accept something without knowing everything.

"Have you approached others to do this task before?"

"Yes, however none could really do their task well. If I remember correctly the last one almost gave him a little too much morphine when he had been in a bit of a state that require immediate surgical operations. Then there was the covert agent who was trying to pull the wool over our eyes. Sherlock solved that bit quickly. You'll do, however."

Molly tried not to show that hearing that phrase once again nearly caused her to back down from this. The opportunity was good. She would be doing something in the medical field and would be getting paid to do it. There wasn't much harm, yet.

"Okay. I'll try my best to help."

The man just smiled before thanking Molly for the tea and making his leave. Not before telling her that another surprise would be on its way in a couple of days to help swerve her into the right circle when it came to the job.

His name was Michael, she found out later when he approached her on her second time working with Sherlock Holmes. He seemed more casual then and just a few nights ago when he stopped her on her way out to tell her the unfortunate news that she would no longer be needed. The Holmes family were grateful for all of her service but Sherlock would be exiting the gritty world of boxing for good. Tonight was the last time she would ever see him or let alone touch him in any way.

Molly smiled from behind a small opening near the locker rooms where all the athletes came to prepare themselves for their brawls. Molly usually didn't watch for more than a few seconds but tonight was a special occasion. She was willing to watch the most of it before retiring back to her station in the more isolated room where she took care of him.

A few times she nearly swore that his eyes had flickered over to the small space where she always stood watching the match. She didn't really believe that entirely however, it was a nice thought. She was sure he had been informed of her departure come this night. She wouldn't ask if he had though, she didn't really speak to him apart from asking for him to do things to help her better access to his problem areas that she needed to treat. That was fine.

The match was ending soon, she noticed by the way each of the two men begun to falter a bit in their movements. Both of their body were going to give way soon. It was inevitable, really. The question was: who's would first? That was when it would really end.

Molly didn't stay long enough to see that outcome as she needed to get back to her station. She had to prepare herself again for Sherlock's treatment. It would not be long now.

…

The roar of the crowd soon could be heard from the room where Molly stood next to a bar stool which soon would have an occupant with bruises and blood covering his face. She took a few breaths before hearing the sound of hurried footsteps and loud voices - some ecstatic while others were more stern and annoyed. She turned in time to see Sherlock walking in with Michael near his side and another man whom Molly had been introduced as Sherlock's older brother - Mycroft Holmes. He never really said anything to Molly but she had read his body language easy enough to know that he didn't see why she had lasted as long as she had in this position. There was also an underlying of gratefulness coming off of him that Sherlock was being cared for without any fuss.

He was speaking to Sherlock as he came and sat down on the stool. He tossed the silk robe that was hanging on his form like a cloak, first slipping the hood off before continuing with dropping it to the side. He glanced at her for a moment before speaking to his brother. Mycroft had asked why he needed to overdo it once again in something as mundane as a fist fight.

It was more of a brawl, Molly wished to say but kept quiet as she began to walk around the younger sibling to inspect all of his wound before beginning to treat him. The head wound would need to be dressed first and she used both gauze and alcohol wipes to clean the blood from the side of his head before spraying a little disinfectant on the cut. She told him it might hurt a bit but he didn't say anything instead continuing to look annoyed at his brother as he continued to pester him about things that Sherlock didn't seem to be bothered by at the moment. He did flinch slightly.

Michael intervened soon, only saying that he would have Sherlock home safely within another hour. Mycroft huffed before slowly backing down from another one-sided heated battle with his irresponsible younger brother. Michael soon followed Mycroft out after giving Molly a not so discreet and brief smile of assurance before leaving the duo alone.

…

Sherlock's head was hurting a bit from the successful set of blows that had been landed on his head. However that was nothing compared to the headache he felt he would have later once he finished having another important meeting with his family once he had made it back to home. He didn't want to have to think about it. He didn't have to now.

He had a little distraction in the form of the petite girl that had been with him for a little over two years now. He could tell you the exact date that she started giving him a bit of comfort after leaving the circle that was used as a stage for the bouts time and time again. This wasn't really necessary. What more caught his eye was the way she seemed to be a bit more careful about treating him tonight. It didn't bother him in the slightest. He never minded her. She never spoke unless she needed him to do something.

He had been told early on in the week during the same discussion when he was "requested" to end his silly time fighting that this could potentially be the last time he spent any time with her. None of what had been slowly pestering in the back of his mind really bothered him much until he was made to realize that this part of his life had to end, and so some things were changing. He would no longer have this time with her. She would be leaving too.

This irritated him more than he wished to admit. He didn't need people. That's what he had come to tell himself anyway.

He waited until she spoke a simple line that he always heard before she would turn her attention to cleaning up the mess that had come with fixing him. "There. All done."

He didn't move immediately as he usually would. He stayed put, opting to watch her do the last few things she needed before taking the few steps she needed to grab her things so she could leave.

However he didn't want her to go. Not yet anyway. He surprised her by reaching over and grabbing her by the wrist and gently pulling her back over to him. "Miss Hooper." He cleared his throat after saying it.

She looked up at him through wide eyes and faltered for a moment before speaking quietly as usual. He didn't think she ever raised her voice ever. "Molly...my name is Molly. Miss Hooper is my mum. Do you need my help with anything?"

"I suppose so, Molly." It felt very weird speaking her first name. Whenever he spoke of her the few times he had with his parents it had only been by calling her Miss Hooper as he had just done. He had known her first name though. He too had done a little research on her after the first time she cared for him.

"Yes?" She strayed her eyes away from him but didn't seem to be afraid of him. That was a good thing, he concluded. Many people found him a bit on the scary side. He wasn't entirely sure why.

"This was your last day. You plan to go to King's soon, correct?"

"Yes. Why are you asking?"

"I wish to ask something of you. I noticed you didn't ask how I knew that. Also that you aren't entirely bothered by my companionship. You actually enjoy it for some reason." His face twisted in confusion as he dropped her wrist when he realized it was still within his grasp.

"How would you know that?" She took a small step back and Sherlock stood immediately towering over her. She was much shorter than he was.

"The first few moments we were in the same vicinity your eyes dilated much like they are now and you were flushed for a moment. You're good at hiding things well. You took tentative steps around me as a way to see what you needed to do but sometimes you would linger a little longer. There are other signs too but they don't exactly matter. You do fancy me."

Molly just stood there not exactly sure if she should respond or not. "Would you consider doing this more often? I am aware you'll be entering a pathology program but you do already have a skill set that has been beneficial to me. It wouldn't be so bad if you stayed would it?"

Molly nearly choked as she spoke a few moments later. "Why?"

That had taken Sherlock by surprise. He didn't expect her to question him. Not that he expected anything from her. She was already so strange to him. "Pardon?"

"Why do you need me to do it? There are more capable people who can do a much better job than me."

"I don't want other people. I am comfortable with you. I want you."

Molly just stared at him for a moment. "You said stay, what did you mean?"

"I might need you at any moment of the day. It'd be easier if you lived closer to me. With me actually."

"You barely know me and you're asking me without your family's knowledge to come live at the mansion. You're insane." Molly said before she could stop herself. She covered her mouth as she muttered several apologies. She didn't know what had come over her. This was all too much.

Sherlock just grinned at her before taking a step towards her and speaking lowly to her. His eyes never leaving hers. "It's been a little over a year since your father's grew ill. You live on your own. Have actually since a little before I met you. That must be hard to manage with all the utility bills and things like that."

"I manage." She breathed.

"Yes, but like I said this is your last day and I imagine you'll be looking for another job to keep up with the payments. You won't have to worry about that if you accept my offer."

Molly bit her bottom lip as she thought about it carefully. He was right but how much help did he really need now that he wasn't going to do this anymore. More so, she imagined remembering a few of the stories Michael had told her over these past couple months.

"Okay."

"Okay? Could you clarify what you mean exactly?" He stepped a little closer, he could practically feel her breathing against his bare skin. He could touch her, if he really wanted to. He did want to, a part of him did if he was honest with himself. She was pretty, like a dove.

"I'll stay with you."

"Thank you." He smiled shortly before noticing that Molly was getting a little red in the face again.

"Is there a problem?" He hadn't thought he had done anything problematic as of yet.

"Could you put on a shirt, please?"

He chuckled at her. This would work out fine.