A/N: So I changed Doyle's cannon, this is an AU after all. I'm back guys, from a very VERY rainy Spain which was depressing but I am back with a super long chapter to make up for my absence. Enjoy as always you wonderful little things you!
"James. Calm down." Andrew Moriarty murmured to his son whose fist was raised, ready to strike an already bloodied and broken heap of clothes.
"He failed us!" James roared his Irish lilt was pitched at an insane level.
"Sirs." A new voice appeared at the door and both of the Moriarty men turned glare before their ire weakened somewhat. The sharply dressed military man drew their attention from the whimpering bundle on the floor. "Shall I remove Mr Blacksman from the room?" His voice was emotionless and neutral.
"Get him out of my sight Moran." James hissed and flopped into his armchair whilst two of Colonel Moran's men dragged the groaning man from the room.
"Mr Blacksman and his men managed to locate Miss Hooper's whereabouts. It would also seem that he gleaned information regarding the protection of the Lady." The Colonel's voice was quiet, only just heard above the crackle of the fire. At the silence of the other men he continued. "She is fiercely protected by the youngest Holmes brother, he was the obstacle that stopped Blacksman from obtaining Miss Hooper." Pulling a sheaf of paper from his pocket he studied the writing. "It would appear, Sherlock Holmes, protected Miss Hooper from our attack and any new plans will require a slightly more deceitful hand." The Colonel folded the piece of paper and tucked it away in his jacket and waited.
"We have much to discuss Moran. Sit." Andrew smiled.
"This is Dr John Watson." Lady Violet introduced the gentleman at her side to her youngest son who barely even looked up.
"Nice to meet you Master Sherlock." John held himself like a military man, leaning heavily on an ornate cane, Sherlock's thoughts came thick and fast as he surreptitiously examined the man. His main concern was whether he was a danger to his Miss Hooper.
"Sherlock." His mother's reprimand broke through the cloud of deductions and drew Sherlock's eyes to the pair. "Doctor Watson will be staying with us for the foreseeable future, his father is a friend of your father's." She raised an eyebrow and Sherlock stood to greet the Doctor who was wary of the almost rude Sherlock Holmes.
The evening progressed companionably, Sherlock under his mother's hawk-like gaze kept his questions and snide remarks at a minimum but it appeared that John Watson had been prepared for the scorn and let it slide over him. He ignored the jibes as Sherlock's deductions became more and more personal but a slight tic appeared on his left cheek as the other man delved in deeper. Lady Violet's temper grew a little more frayed and her orders at Sherlock were lasting but mere minutes as another conversation was struck up.
Sherlock's investigation of the other man was purely on making sure he was not someone out to hurt his household and Sherlock was thorough in his work; he did discover the man's love of chemistry, biology and all matters conducive to science, rising John Watson in Sherlock's opinion.
Molly Hooper walked in at the very heat of the moment and read the tension in the room; Lady Violet was clutching at the arm of her chair Sherlock was leant forward, keen on dissecting the nature of John Watson while the good Doctor's jaw was tense.
"I thought refreshments may be required." Molly eased herself into the room, acting oblivious to the atmosphere and neatly deposited the new teapot, cups and saucers before swapping the old ones onto her tray. "Doctor Watson are you feeling at home at Elderflower Mansion?" She was conversational in her manner and Sherlock was surprised at her easiness of speech for two reasons; the first was, she was a servant and the Doctor was a guest, it was almost improper for her to be heard as well as seen. The second reason that niggled at Sherlock was that she was on friendly terms with him already and the posture of the Doctor changed; he relaxed, no longer under Sherlock's scrutiny he smiled a wide smile.
"Indeed so Miss Hooper, thank you for helping me settle into my rooms."
"You're welcome Sir, I thank you for caring for my foot." She smiled again and Sherlock felt a flare of jealousy in his stomach.
"Not at all Miss Hooper, it's my fault the horse trod on you so it's only fitting that I do my job."
"Are you travelling alone Doctor?" Molly had rearranged everything the room unconsciously, prolonging the conversation, feeling Sherlock's intense glare she turned away from him towards the newcomer.
"Indeed so, I have just returned from Afghanistan and then St Bartholomew's Hospital in London, having my knee repaired when I received the invitation from Lady Holmes to join her out here for a few weeks." Doctor Watson was good-natured, his fight with Sherlock almost forgotten as he turned to the bemused young man.
"Well Lord Holmes informed me that you had returned injured from war and I thought it only fitting to offer you a place of recuperation." Violet had reclined in her chair, her eyes switching between Sherlock and Molly. That girl was something of a wonder, she had dissipated a situation that could've been possibly disastrous in a matter of minutes, all with a few words and a fresh teapot.
"Lady Holmes is there anything else you require?" Molly turned expectantly to the older woman who smiled and shook her head.
"That is all Miss Hooper, thank you very much." Sherlock caught the extra meaning in his mother's words and scowled. He watched Molly curtsy to the room and turned with a swish of her skirt, slipping out of the door which closed with a soft click.
"She really is a lovely young servant, you do not find many women with such a sweet nature." John remarked and Sherlock felt that flare of jealousy again but before he could utter a single sarcastic remark John added. "Oh she's taken the sugar…"
"I'll fetch it, there's no point ringing she'll just have to walk all the way there and back, it'll be a wasted journey." Sherlock almost gabbled and Violet had to hide a laugh as her son disappeared from the room. She laughed aloud at John's confused face.
"Sherlock makes the family hard to protect Lady Holmes." John stretched his aching leg and Violet smiled softly.
"He's such a stubborn boy, always has, always will. There are a lot of faults to him but I think loneliness is at the core of it. Which is one of the reasons you are here Doctor Watson." Violet's eyes had that dancing glint in it once more but John didn't know the woman that well and never recognised it.
"You want me to befriend such an impossible man, no offence intended Lady Holmes." John sighed and stirred his cooling tea. "Where has Sherlock got to with that sugar?"
Sherlock had caught Molly in the passage leading back to the kitchen and pulled her, tray and all into a doorway.
"Master Holmes!" She almost squealed as he took the tray away from her, depositing it on a desk.
"What happened to your foot?" He demanded and Molly quirked an eyebrow.
"Doctor Watson's horse trod on it." She folded her arms and Sherlock was taken aback by the tone of her voice. "Stop worrying about me Sherlock." She was now slightly playful but it didn't nothing for Sherlock's highly strung nerves.
"How can I not worry when you were almost kidnapped a week ago? How can I not when you were nearly shot and dragged off by some scum of the earth?" Sherlock hissed and started to pace the room. "How can you tell me not to worry when I witnessed this, puzzled it over and see no logical explanation for their want of you? Tell me not worry as I know my mother is withholding information about the reason behind the attack!" He was shouting now, "Remind me Miss Hooper how I can relax knowing someone wants to hurt you and by extension my family. So pray tell me how not to worry every time you go to town with silly Miss Markson and Miss Bells and wonder if you'll come back with them!" Molly was standing straight and tall, listening to his rant while her face held almost no emotion. The only giveaway was the sheen of tears in her eyes.
"I never realised it affected you so much Master Holmes." Her voice caught a little but she said nothing more and picked up her tray once more. "Excuse me." She left the darkened room and Sherlock groaned. He wasn't good at caring for people; it was alien to him to let someone into his mind. Strike that he thought with a sour note, Molly Hooper had wormed her way into his heart. He was unhappy at the revelation and sickened, how did he deal with the emotions that came with this nonsense – it was not maths nor science, love did not appear to fit into chemistry nor biology. He understood procreation and he understood the acts of marriage but he had never experienced it. Molly Hooper was a scientific conundrum that his logic-based brain was struggling to understand, she could not be categorised, she could not be experimented with; she was proud and fierce but full of emotions and emotions were not his forte.
Molly put the tray of cold tea at the edge of the kitchen before Mrs Bells could spot her and ask her for another job and scampered upstairs to her room. Tiptoeing past Lydia's room where she could hear both her and Polly gossiping she slipped into her thankfully quiet attic room. After clearing Polly's laundry from the floor she managed to jimmy up one of the floorboards and rooted in the cavern beneath, her hands brushed over the metal and she sighed in relief. Uncertain Molly felt a prickle of worry and removed the box.
The intricate Celtic design had kept her amused as a child, tracing the patterns over and over but now there was heartache intermingled. The family heirloom from her mother's side was a weight on her heart. Running her fingers over the metal once more Molly smiled wistfully then made a rash decision. She followed her quiet path back downstairs, listening in at the door of the drawing room to hear Lady Violet converse with both Doctor Watson and Sherlock, she stole onwards down the corridor to Sherlock's study. Slipping inside, she lit a candle and opened the metal box. Carefully folded papers lay inside, waxed closed and Molly bit her lip, desperate to open them – but what she didn't know would never hurt her right?
Making her mind up, Molly unfastened the box and began to rifle through Sherlock's mountain of books. Deciding on a loose portfolio of laws that Sherlock had thought of she removed a sheaf of papers from the leather bound wallet and folded them with care by the light of the small candle. Using the wax to seal the documents she pressed her finger into the drying material, ignoring the slight burn she blew on them to dry them faster. Swapping the papers from her box for Sherlock's mock laws Molly sighed, slipping her own folded parchments into the portfolio and slipping back onto the shelf amongst the identical ones. Resealing the box Molly slipped out of the door, the box carefully concealed under her dress. As she rounded the corner she heard Sherlock's voice behind her and froze.
"Good night Mother, Doctor Watson." His clipped tone told her of his ire, probably from the rant she had witnessed earlier and then heard the study door shut. Molly was relieved to find Polly still nattering away in Lydia's room, managing to conceal the box before returning to the kitchen.
"Mycroft." Benedict barked and put his head through his son's doorway in the office.
"Yes." The younger man looked up irritably from the document he was staring at. The pair had not been getting along at all whilst in London, they had come to blows yet again about the Moriartys' but even Mycroft was suspicious over them. Not that he would ever admit it. When the Moriartys' had come in yet again their question had been somewhat personal and Mycroft had been wary of their questioning line, but he smoothly steered them away every time, they gleaned no extra information from him.
The last time Andrew Moriarty had turned up alone and Mycroft had found both of the older men having a quiet argument in his father's office. Not being seen by either he listened at the doorway.
"You stay away from my family Andrew, you have no right to be around here." Benedict had hissed.
"Come along Benny, we have such a great past together." Moriarty's voice was slick and oily, making Mycroft shudder. "After all, I gave you so many great cases to work on." He snorted and Benedict threw his fountain pen on the floor.
"One day you heathen I will link you to evidence and you will go down for every murder you have ever committed." Mycroft had never heard his father so angry.
"Keep trying Benedict, The Hoopers will not be my last." The warning in his voice had been cold yet personal and Mycroft walked silently back to his office before heading back to his father's with loud and important footsteps. His feigned reaction towards Andrew had been perfect.
Mycroft had not told his father he had heard the two men's argument but mulled the information over, the Hoopers; relatives of Molly's perhaps? That serving girl? Why murder some serving girl's parents?
"Your mother has written to me, they have been attacked at Elderflower, I am leaving now. I expect you…"
"I'll be ready in two minutes." Mycroft cut across his father and grabbed his coat. The men shared a look before hurrying down the steps, hailing a hansom cab to take them to their stables.
Inside the cab Mycroft couldn't bear not knowing a piece of the puzzle anymore.
"Who are the Hoopers and why did Moriarty kill them?" Mycroft watched his father's face swap from confusion to regret.
"Please son, let me explain with your mother and brother there. I need all the information as much as you do, and we will only find that at Elderflower."
Additional: Let's be honest John had to be in there. I had planned an alternative ending for this story which would've been sad and seen John introduced then BUT for my degree I have to read "The Man with the Twisted Lip" and inspiration with John involved struck.
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