Chapter 11

Sorry for the cliffhanger and the long wait… I rewrote several times some parts of this chapter because it was an important one.

Again many many thanks for your kind reviews. You are fantastic! Please don't stop !

And for Lucy36 who asked me "why a book about bees ?", it is because it Conan Doyle's Canon Sherlock becomes a beekeeper after retiring from detective work. I always found it quite amusing and I wondered where it came from.

I hope you enjoy this… pretty angsty chapter!

^/^

Mycroft didn't say a word. His look didn't express any surprise but Molly almost shivered when his eyes crossed hers. Then, he simply closed the door and left the room which seemed suddenly filled with cold air. No wonder Moriarty had nicknamed him "The Iceman".

Molly was still holding the sheet close to her in a desperate attempt to hide herself. It took her a moment before daring to move again.

"Oh my god… this is so embarrassing! I can't believe he saw that, I'm never going to be able to talk to him ever again!", she exclaimed.

Sherlock grinned.

"This is not funny! I'm absolutely mortified!"

"Well… see the positive side of the situation, now we don't have to look for the best way to break the news anymore. And I believe Mycroft is even more embarrassed than you are as this is probably his first experience of female nudity."

Molly sighed and looked for her shirt. She knew that the situation highly amused Sherlock who was always looking for a new way to annoy his brother. But she was afraid Mycroft wouldn't be so pleased about this turn of events.

She got out of the bed and got dressed.

"So my lesson is over?", asked Sherlock innocently.

"I have to go home. I don't want another of those incidents to happen."

"I was having fun."

"I'll be back this afternoon", replied Molly, softening a little bit.

Sherlock seemed to think for a moment.

"You know… maybe you should stay at home for today. I'll have a lot to talk about with my brother. About Moran and the latest developments."

"Are you sure? What about your lunch?"

"It's fine. Don't think I am underestimating your culinary talents but I think I will survive without them for one day."

"Alright, I'll see you tomorrow then, be nice". She placed a kiss on his cheek and grabbed her purse.

"I'm always nice!", he replied with a smirk.

It was still early and the corridors of the hospital were quiet. Molly walked quickly as she feared to cross a nurse, or worse, Mycroft. But hopefully he was nowhere to be seen. She sighed in relief when she reached her car on the parking lot. Once at home, she fed her cat then went directly to bed and buried her head under a pillow. This had been officially the most awkward moment of her life.

^/^

When Molly woke up from her nap, it was already 2 PM. She hadn't intended to sleep for so long, but the realised she needed some rest. Actually she was glad Sherlock had told her to stay at home. For the past months, she had visited him daily. And even if she cherished every moment spent with him, it felt good to have a little bit of time for herself. It also conveniently delayed the moment when she would have to face Mycroft.

She decided not think about it for the moment, and took advantage of her free time to clean her flat. She baked a cake that she would bring to Sherlock the following day, then watched TV while doing her nails. Finally she took a hot bath with a lot of foam, and even added a few candles to perfect the deliciously relaxing atmosphere. Her mind started to wander and she caught herself thinking about what had happened in the morning. This time it made her giggle. Of course it had been embarrassing, but it would be a funny memory to laugh about afterwards.

It was pity they had been interrupted though and she couldn't wait for another opportunity to share such an intimate moment with Sherlock, to feel his hands on her body again. She closed her eyes and let her hand wander between her tights.

Later, comfortably settled in bed with Toby on her side, she tried to imagine what the future held for her. What would be life with Sherlock after the hospital? Maybe they could move in together in a nice little house? Live a happy and discreet life while waiting for Moriarty's network to be dismantled. Then the day would come when the truth would be revealed and Sherlock's name would be cleared. They would come back to London. For sure it would be a shock for John and all their friends, even more when they would learn about their relationship. But they would be happy for them. Yes, the future looked bright and that night Molly Hooper's sleep was filled with pleasant dreams.

Sadly sometimes reality is a harsh wake up call.

^/^

It was 8:30 the following morning when Molly heard the sound of the bell ringing. She wasn't expecting any visitor at this early hour and was still in her pyjamas. She went to the door and looked through the Judas hole. It was Mycroft.

She knew it didn't mean any good. Molly considered not answering but it wouldn't solve the problem. She would have to endure that conversation anyway so the sooner the better.

"Yes, one moment please!", she yelled.

She went to change and came back wearing a pair of jeans and a flowery sweater. A much more decent outfit than on their last encounter. She took a deep breath, undid the locker and opened the door.

Mycroft was standing in front of her, leaning against him usual umbrella.

"Good morning, Miss Hooper. Please apologise for this early visit but I am on a busy schedule."

"No… no it's fine, I was just about to have breakfast."

"Good. Do you mind if I join you for a cup of coffee then?" As usual, he exhaled authority in spite of his apparent cordiality.

"No, of course please come in", she mumbled.

Mycroft made his way in and sat at the table of Molly's little kitchen. She served coffee for both of them

"There's… sugar if you want some", she suggested

"No thank you", he replied with a forced smile.

Molly remembered Sherlock once telling her that Mycroft had been obese until the age of 20. He had done a drastic diet but was still carefully avoiding calories. Offering him sugar? Good one, Sherlock would be proud of her.

The older Holmes took a sip of coffee and looked at her thoughtfully. Molly was looking at her nails, feeling increasingly uncomfortable.

"Miss Hooper", he started, "my time is precious so I will go straight to the point. I am here to ask you to put an end to your relationship with my brother."

She looked at him in shock, but was unable to answer so he continued.

"When I offered you this position, you told me you weren't expecting anything from my brother. I made it clear to you that he was unable to engage into any kind of romantic relationship. Now I come back from my trip and find out that you have not only broken my trust but you were able to have sexual relations inside an hospital!"

He had pronounced those last words with undisguised anger. Molly was almost paralyzed by fear and embarrassment.

"I… I understand it was inappropriate and I'm deeply sorry you had to find out this way. It's true I wasn't expecting anything to happen between Sherlock and I but… things changed. We spent a lot time together. We learned to know each other in a complete different way. It's still very new but I want you to know that I'm completely sincere about it. All I want is Sherlock to be happy."

Mycroft's eyes softened a little bit.

"Then we have this in common. Molly… all I'm trying to do is spare you and Sherlock a cruel disillusion. I think you are both in this relationship for the wrong reasons. He is lost and he's clinging up to the last thing which connects him to who he used to be, you. And you feel guilty so you're being delusional about your own feelings."

"I don't feel guilty, I love him."

Mycroft sighed. "Molly, you are a brave young woman, with a lot of qualities. But it is a pity you tend to lack of judgment when it comes to your relationships. You have a regrettable tendency to choose the wrong men and Sherlock is no exception."

How could Mycroft know about her personal history? A disturbing idea crossed Molly's mind. With his position he could certainly find out anything about anybody. He had probably researched her years ago, maybe ever since she had started to work with Sherlock. He knew about every intimate detail of her life, about David and even her abortion. She felt disgusted.

"This is none of your business!", she exclaimed. "You don't know who I am and I'm not taking advice from you. Sherlock and I don't need your blessing to see each other. He's not a child anymore."

Molly was surprised at her own outburst, but it had felt good. Mycroft remained impassive. He placed his hands beneath his chin in a prayer position, as she had seen Sherlock doing on countless occasions.

"He told you what happened to him, didn't he?"

"Yes."

"I swore from that day on that I would protect him. And despite my efforts I haven't been doing a very good job. My little brother is in a wheelchair. The Moran's trail went cold. Sherlock will have to go into hiding for God knows how many more months or years ! He doesn't need more suffering."

"I don't understand, you think I'll make him suffer?"

"I think this relationship is doomed to failure. Oh of course for the moment everything is bright and shiny. But it won't be always like that. One day you will start realising that you are stuck with a disabled man who cannot make you happy. You think my brother is capable love? What he loves is seeing himself through your eyes because it is the last thing which connect him to who he used to be. And when he will see that even this is gone, he will grow cold and hurtful. You will stay with him out of pity, and he will abhor you even more for that."

"Stop!", interrupted Molly. "I've heard enough, I want you to leave." She stood up to show Mycroft their conversation had reached an end.

"Please, go now", she insisted.

"Very well", said Mycroft. He seized his umbrella and slowly headed out. He turned around before crossing the door to speak one last time:

"Please take time to think about it with a clear head."

"I don't need to think about it. On the contrary it's one of the first time in my life on which I know exactly what I want."

"Good bye Miss Hooper", answered Mycroft coldly.

"Good bye".

She slammed the door behind him and put her hand on her mouth to prevent herself from shouting.

^/^

The following hours seemed to last an eternity. Yes, Molly knew exactly what she wanted. She wanted to be in Sherlock's arms, tell him everything that had happened. They would rant together against Mycroft, and she would finally tell Sherlock that she loved him. He would probably just answer "ok", but that was fine with her.

At 11AM she was ready to go and pacing like a caged lion. The hospital was only 20 minutes away and she wasn't supposed to show up before noon but she couldn't wait anymore. She packed the meal and the cake she had prepared for Sherlock and left. During the short car ride, she felt a knot growing in her stomach, like a bad premonition.

Molly parked her car on her usual spot and entered the building. She headed to the wing where Sherlock's room was located. It was a high security area with restricted access. She slid her access card into the reader. The screen flashed red and read "Access Denied".

"Oh", muttered Molly.

One of the hospital guards approached her: "Can I help you Miss ?"

"Yes indeed. I think there is a problem with my card, it's not working. Maybe I'm too early? Normally I don't come before noon but today I was a bit in a hurry."

The guard took her card and passed it in his own portable reader.

"I am sorry Miss, but it seems your access has been cancelled".

"Cancelled? No, it must be a mistake. I come here every day, you've seen me before".

"Miss Hooper, this is a restricted area and I am afraid you do not have the necessary authorization anymore. I am going to have to ask you to leave."

"What ? No no, I swear this is a mistake. Please call your boss."

"Those orders come from the highest authority".

Molly's blood froze. She knew this could mean only one name, Mycroft.

She felt a sharp pain in her chest. This couldn't be real, he couldn't take Sherlock away from her. As the guard was about to bring her back to the door and tears were starting to roll on her cheeks, the sight of a familiar figure gave her a sudden glimmer of hope. It was Helen, the nurse.

"Helen!", she called. "They're not letting me see him, what's going on?"

The old woman looked at her with a painful expression.

"I am sorry Molly, I'm so sorry…"

"Please", pleaded Molly, "I need to talk to him, please let me talk to him!"

Helen turned to the guard "Sergeant Doyle, I know this young lady, please make an exception."

"I can't, I have orders…"

"Just 5 minutes. I take it as my responsibility."

The guard seemed to be hesitating for a moment. He looked at Helen, then at Molly whose frail body was being shaken by heavy sobs.

"5 minutes not one more, and I'm coming in with her", he finally conceded.

"Thank you!"

She tried to wipe away her tears to look more presentable and followed the guard. Helen gently patted her shoulder in encouragement.

When she arrived in front of Sherlock's room, the door was close. Sergeant Doyle sighed and handed her his access card.

"I'm taking big risks because of you", he whispered.

"I promise I'll be quick".

When she opened the door Molly saw Sherlock in his wheelchair, looking outside by the window. She was going to run towards him but her blood froze when she realised he was not alone. Mycroft was there too, standing in the corner like a vulture.

"What is going on?", she cried. "You blocked my access to the hospital, you think you can send me away like this?"

Mycroft remained silent and Sherlock didn't move.

"Sherlock !", she called out.

"Miss Hooper", started Mycroft, "as you understood your services are longer required here. It is logical then that your access has been deactivated. You will continue to perceive your salary as long as you find another suitable position and you can stay at the flat until then. Considering the circumstances, I believe I am being particularly generous."

This was a nightmare and she was going wake up. Maybe she was still sleeping in Sherlock's arms and she had dreamed the whole scene. She looked at Sherlock again, immobile by the window, his back still turned to her. Why wasn't he talking? Why wasn't he defending her? This wasn't making any sense. Except…

Except if Mycroft had talked to him too.

"Sherlock! Sherlock look at me! Your brother is trying to separate us. He came to my flat this morning and asked me to leave you. I don't know what lies he told you about me but… I love you! I would never leave you! Just talk to him and tell him this is crazy!"

Molly thought her heart was going to explode in her chest. Sherlock finally turned around to face her. But it seemed as if she was looking at a stranger. His blue eyes were cold and empty. He didn't even look at her and spoke directly to the guard. He pronounced her sentence in three little words:

"Make her leave."

"Oh… and Sergeant Doyle", added Mycroft, "you are fired".