9

Sherlock story

Deleted Memories, Alternate #2

Warning: bitter- sweet

"While we are free to choose our actions, we are not free to choose the consequences of our actions."

~ Stephen R. Covey

Adler held the phone up to her mouth. Her hood was over her head. The air was cold in London, how could she have forgotten. Normally, she would have gone into his flat and just showed up like she always does but something held her back this time. Something in his voice the last time that they communicated by phone. It had been their only other form of communication except text for close to five months.

"Mrs. Adler," she smiled at his deep baritone voice. She could not help it. He did not have to know this of course.

They never said hello or goodbye on the phone.

"Mr. Holmes," She took a moment before continuing.

"Keeping yourself out of trouble these days, I used to be the one who was always in the middle of chaos. I have not seen a good explosion on the telly or read about terrorist cells being broken up lately." She really did not care what they talked about she just wanted an excuse to hear his voice.

"I'm not quite that bad Ms. Adler." There was a brief moment of silence. She could almost see his smile. It caused her to smile in return. "Besides, the last explosion that I read about in Bulgaria was your handiwork not mine." She could almost see his eyebrows as it tilted slightly to indicate that he was really scolding her.

"I was bored. Besides, the place was a headquarters for a sex trafficking ring. I thought that you wanted me to… what is the word that you used… oh yes… do good."

"I appreciate your efforts, however, maybe next time you could make sure that the people inside have vacated the premises first," his tone was no longer scolding. He spoke softly. He was, with the exception of her grandmother, the only one who has ever understood her.

"I'll keep that in min…" she interrupted her sentence as he exited his flat. "Mind." She corrected herself causally.

He had his familiar dark coat on but opened with no scarf because of the warming weather. He was dressed in his dark suit and dark blue shirt. The street light illuminated him and made it easy to see him. She however stood in the shadows and blended in with her dark clothing.

Her breath stilled a little before inhaling deeply. He was gorgeous. He always dressed impeccably but he seemed to have made even more effort tonight. She wondered where he was going so late. "Um," she thought as her mind wandered a little.

"… Irene…" Her mind snapped back to the present. "Um – yes?" She could tell he had been talking for a while. She wondered how to answer him when she was not sure what he had said. She supposed that she could try the honest approach but, what would be the fun in that? Wait, he had called her Irene. They stopped using first names when she left.

"Are you alright," his body was stiff; his voice was tender and full of concern. He looked intense as he stood under the light a slight frown was on his face.

"I'm fine," she smiled, "Just thinking Sherlock." He smiled now as he exhaled a breath. His body relaxed at the use of his first name. Her smile faded. Someone came out the door. It was a woman about her height with long loose brown hair. She frowned. She had her coat open as well. Underneath she had a simple fitted dress the almost exact color of her skin and sensible shoes the same color. She wore a little makeup and lipstick. Just enough to enhance her features not change her appearance. She was pretty but not gorgeous. At first glance, one might have thought that the woman was all goodness and sunshine. But, her eyes. There was fierceness there, and loyalty, and a protectiveness.

Something in her eyes reminded her of someone. She suddenly realized who it was.

It was John.

Sherlock looked at her and smiled. He then put his hand over the phone and spoke to her briefly before walking a few steps away. Irene just looked for a moment.

"Are you sure that you're ok?"

"I'm fine."

"Isn't that my line?" Alder couldn't help the smile then chuckle. "I suppose it is, Mr. Holmes." Sherlock.

Sherlock looked at the woman. He frowned. It was as if he wanted to go but he wanted to stand where he was and talk on the phone at the same time.

She would make it easy for him but first she had to know, "Are you happy?"

Sherlock looked at the smaller woman and Adler could almost see his logical mind calculating, hypothesizing, and then she saw the moment that he finally surrendered his mind to something else.

"Happy… yes… I suppose I am… happy." It was as if the news was as much of a surprise to him as to her.

"Good," she was surprised that she meant it. She was about to disconnect when his voice stopped her.

"Take care of yourself." Sherlock's voice was gentle.

"You know me."

"Yes," He looked intense, "You know that I'll be there if you should ever need me."

"Always." He stressed.

"I know," She whispered as she swallowed the lump in her throat, she said something then that she did not want to say, "Goodbye Mr. Holmes." She disconnected the call.

A tear came unwelcome as it rolled down her cheek. She wiped at it almost curiously. He was the only man that could make her shed tears in her adult life.

She just stood there looking at him. He held the phone in his hand, just standing still for a moment as if deep in thought. She watched him shift his attention and look at the smaller woman. He then walked over to her. He brushed a strain of hair behind her ears as they spoke.

So her suspicions were confirmed. He found someone that he could trust with his whole heart. It had almost been her. She looked down for a moment and then looked up with a sad smile. She saw the way he looked at the woman, she wondered if he knew yet. "Welcome to the human race, Mr. Holmes."

"You are the one who must choose your place."~ James Lane Allen

"Sorry to keep you waiting," Sherlock said gently as he pushed a strain of hair the wind blew behind her ear and away from her face.

Molly was still surprised whenever he displayed any kind of affection in public. It seemed almost second nature now for almost a month.

She was a little jealous but knew Sherlock well enough to know that there was no reason to be. She had known him longer than almost anyone had. He was not a man to make commitments, and then did not make them easily. She also knew that the few times he did, he was completely committed and loyal. She knew he had not seen Adler physically for five months even though he still checked on her by text often.

"That was Adler," She asked.

"Yes," He said nothing more but let his hand linger on her face a little longer than necessary.

"You still care for her." It really was not a question.

"Yes, I've explained that to you with all honesty. I suppose I always will." He looked her in the eyes and gently pulled her close as their lips touched in the gentlest of kisses. Sherlock continued, "But this," he searched for words, "My…heart, such as it is… belongs to you."

Molly smiled contently. "I know," She said as she pulled his head down for another kiss more passionately this time. She heard Sherlock moan as he pulled away. He smiled as he raised an eyebrow. "Molly Katherine Hooper, I think perhaps we better stop or I assure you my wonderful plans for a proper dinner and dancing will most certainly be… ruined. Keep in mind that it was you and John that had conspired to inform me that a trip to a crime scene was not a proper date."

"Molly smiled from ear-to-ear, "We would not want to spoil your plans. I've been trying to get you dancing for a month."

"Two Molly. I suppose it is logical to not allow all those dance lessons of my youth to go to waste."

"Well, there's always later," she said a little too sweetly.

Sherlock raised an eyebrow as he smiled while looking at her curiously.

The cab was coming.

Sherlock raised his hand as the cab pulled up. He opened the door for Molly and was about to step in when a shadow in the corner across the street caught his eye. He stood for a moment looking, unsure why, then he mentally shrugged and got into the taxi.

As they drove along Molly noticed that Sherlock was unusually quiet. He would usually talk of John, or cases, or John, or the idiots in the police force - Lestrade was the exception of course, or John.

"You ok, Sherlock?" She frowned as she put her hand on his.

"Yes, Sorry. Am I too quiet?" He turned with a look of concentration.

"Of course not. You know you can be yourself with me." Molly locked eyes with him and allowed him to deduce her seeing the truth there. She did not mind. She knew he could not stop deducing, just as he could not stop breathing. She had known him years before they were involved. She loved and accepted him as he was.

"Yes." Sherlock finally said somewhat amazed that she not only knew what he was doing but was allowing him to do it. He smiled as he took her hand.

How could she have been there all this time and he had not seen her? He supposed he was not looking then. Nothing matter but the work. The work was still a priority, but he realized that allowing people into his life selectively, added to his life and did not take away from the work. John had taught him that. Then there was Adler. He looked out the window for a moment. He was concerned about her, he was not sure why. He sighed.

He looked at Molly contemplatively. She allowed him to be himself. She did not get upset when he became obsessed with a case or became bored, or went for days without talking. Well, she did have ways to get him to talk now that he thought about it. She had more effective ways to deal with his boredom than bullets being shot in walls he had to also admit. Mrs. Hudson was grateful for that fact.

Sherlock further considered Molly. She understood how important John was to him and did not try to take his place. No one could. She understood that he had an equally important but different place for her in his heart.

He did have to admit however, that Molly had changed. It was one of the things that first caught his attention. She was still Molly but she was bolder and allowed her intelligence to show. She rarely stuttered around him anymore. Molly now shared her opinion even if it was different from his. She was also not afraid to tell him when he was being an arse or to get his own coffee. Sherlock smiled at the notion. She and John were alike in that way. Sherlock briefly wondered if he had changed as well.

Her voice drew him out of his thoughts.

"So, in this semi-secret plan of yours, will John and Mary be there?"

"I know we usually met them for dinner, but I wanted us to be alone tonight… if you don't mind." Sherlock looked intensely at her.

"Of course, Sherlock." Molly looked at him. "You do know that you're acting strangely tonight."

"Am I?" He smiled before adding

"They will meet us later along with Lestrade and Katie. I wanted witnesses for my dancing debut," Sherlock wiggled his eyebrows. Molly laughed as she tried to get over the fact that Sherlock Holmes had a sense of humor. Sherlock smiled in return as she linked her closest arm around his arm; laid her head on his shoulder and then closed her eyes.

Sherlock kissed the top of her head. His free hand went inside his suit pocket as he held the small box in his hand. He thought to himself.

It is only logical; it is the next step in a relationship if John is to be believed. They were together almost all the time anyway. He has known her for years. John had taken the plunge, so to speak, and it had not hindered their work or hindered their friendship, as he had once feared that it would. If anything, John and he were impossibly close now.

It is purely logic and a matter of convenience, he repeated to himself. She was a pathologist and could help him with his work. He frowned. He looked at Molly and something on the inside gently shifted. Maybe, it was a bit more than logic and Sherlock realized with a contented smile that, that was ok.

He kissed her head again then He leaned his head back and relaxed for the remainder of the ride. He sighed at himself; he shook his head in disbelief because he had this illogical need to touch her all the time.

He looked out the window. Today would be his practice run. He had to make sure everything was timed perfectly. He would do it in six months on her birthday. People like that sentimental sort of thing.

He looked at Molly.

Molly would appreciate that sentimental sort of thing. He pulled Molly closer. He had a look of concentration as he withdrew to his mind. He cataloged the events of the day and organized data on the latest case that was solved earlier that afternoon. Sherlock never noticed when his left hand subconsciously again brushed against the small box.

"Honor isn't about making the right choices. It's about dealing with the consequences."~ Anonymous

Moments in time linked together by the decisions that are made. A series of choices. That's all that life really was. She made a choice months ago that pushed him away. It was not because she did not care for him. It was because she cared too much. It was because she was like fire and he was like paper. She would have consumed him until there was nothing left.

John told her that Sherlock deserved to know why she was leaving London but she was afraid. The man was clever. In a few more days he would have known the truth.

Sherlock had felt something was wrong, he watched her closely without saying a word. He would have started to dig, to tear her apart mentally for answers, but one thing stopped him. He cared for her too much to disrespect her that way. Still, he would have worked out her secret so she left before he could. He respected her enough not to find her. His only request was that she text him daily to let him know that she was alright.

The truth was that she was afraid. The woman that feared nothing was afraid of Sherlock Holmes.

Maybe she had lied. Maybe she was the paper and he was the flame.

She had come to tell him the truth. He would have forgiven her if she told him her reason for leaving. It was a very good reason. It was a life changing reason. But, apparently, it was too late. Doctor Molly Hooper had won his heart. If Irene had any doubts that Molly would care for Sherlock, she would have ripped her apart. However, she could not. Molly had John's heart. Both John and Molly would die to protect Sherlock.

So would she.

She swallowed hard at the realized of what she must do, and do alone. She shook her head smiling sadly, as a lone tear ran down.

Choices.

Adler looked as they got into the cab. She sighed and smiled. She had come to give him the news but she would not now, it would be her gift to him. She briefly wondered if not telling him was the right thing to do; that is why she had come.

She used to not worry about what was right. Sherlock Holmes has been a bad influence on her, she joked. She looked at the retreating cab. "You deserve to be happy." She whispered. And with the briefest of hesitations, "Goodbye my love."

"Oh, well," she sighed then thought. Saint Petersburg was beautiful this time of year. On the other hand, maybe somewhere warm would be best all things considered. She had not been to the islands in years. It was a time for new life to come into the world. Spring, a time of new beginnings. At least she would always have a part of him.

She put her hands on her stomach and made another choice.

She walked away not looking back.

A/N: I hope you enjoyed. One more alternate to go. The last will probably be the most surprising. Tell me your thoughts.

Lots of Love, Zacha