Within the few weeks that lead up to the funeral an uncommon sense of domesticity had taken hold of Molly Hooper's quaint home. Molly and John's strength for each other out weighed their sorrow; as for the funeral arrangements, those responsibilities were taken away from the two as Mycroft's guilt, money and power took over.
What shocked John and Molly most of all is that, in the first three days of their cohabitation, constant frowns had formed to momentary smiles and the tears, that had almost become commonplace, dried. Through their mutual loss, being pushed together to comfort one another, someone they hardly knew, it had been easier than expected for the two people who had loved Sherlock so dearly to now go moments without contemplating his bitter end, something neither had expected. Both Molly and John had time off from work, paid bereavement leave, and with that time distanced from their own lives, put into a little bubble, it would have been difficult not to dwell upon the Sherlock, his final moments, his final words, and the label of 'Fraudulent Detective' that was plastered across every newspaper, gossip magazine and mentioned at least once an hour on the 24hour news, if they were alone.
Living in such close quarters for over a week, the only time they were not by each other sides were in the times they slept or cooked, so, it was easy to discover the other's quirks, and how much that, unbeknown to even Sherlock himself, they had in common. Time to talk, was time to learn and in the avoidance of all and any Sherlock related topics they learnt about each others lives, the ones that did not revolve around a man that was no longer there. Both understood a want for adventure, for the thrill of the chase or solving the puzzle, but also a need and love to have a comfortable day-to-day routine, and both had found this in their work.
Work was a very large part of Molly's life, it was difficult to rid yourself of the smell of death and feel up to a social life and the awkward hours kept her sleeping or busy. Of course before John had meet Sherlock, his medical training and army life had not left much time for pursuing other activities, and when he had come back to the medical profession and running after a sense of adventure the hours John kept were as awkward as Molly's, if not more so. Both practicing Doctor's of a sort; Molly had found out, when telling how her father's illness and mother's death early on in her life had pushed her into the field, that John's father passing had put him into both fields, his work in medicine and the battlefield.
As they moved onto the lighter topics, something less shrouded in death and war, there were of course the other little things they found they both had in common, silly things, like how they saw potential in the unassuming orange peel and would always save it to dry and fill the room with a fresh sent. They each had their own nervous tick, that, although subtle, would always show when they were apprehensive; Molly rubbing the sensitive skin of her writs or John the hair on the back of his neck. And oddly enough they both found that their adoration of sci-fi was commonplace in both their lives, anything from Back to the Future to the quintessentially British Doctor Who, and, although they were loathed to admit it to one another as it seemed too vulnerable for the new friendship, each had the episodes of the cult programme that was a gateway to their usually closed off emotional outlet. For the army doctor, no stranger to battle and loyalty, and certainly no stranger to romance, he would sit and watch Rory, the last centurion, as he returned and wait, protecting his Amy in the pandorica, protecting his love; he respected the nobility and liked to fancy that he himself would do the same for the woman he loved. For the geeky pathologist, when she knew she was on the verge of tears, she would watch an episode where ten (her Doctor) was about to loose Rose to a parallel world, words lost in his throat and scattered through time, the tears felt more justifiable, less silly this way. And most importantly John and Molly would mix the butter and jam whilst it melted blissfully on the toast, just to make it that little bit tastier, actually after finding this out John showed Molly the illogical magic, that was eating a penguin bar upside down.
"But, John, not to sound skeptical... But it's the same both ways, surely it's chocolate, biscuit and chocolate cream all layered together, the same up as down." Molly's giggles didn't back up her logic, but her logic was flawless so didn't really need backing up. It was the first time in a while a smile was not forced onto her lips and graced them naturally instead, John hadn't expected the light feeling in his chest, especially one week after, and one week before the funeral, but upside down penguins were his party trick and smiles from beautiful woman always lighten the heart. Gosh, she is quite beautiful, wait... What? Sobering his thoughts from their unexpected turn, and brandishing the unintimidating chocolate in Molly's face, he spoke, "Just..." He let out a heavy sigh; applying logic to the magic only increased the shock. "Try it, trust me... I'm a Doctor. Also if you don't I'm going to eat the whole pack and tell you none of the pointless jokes."
"Fine!" Snatching the wrapper from his hands and unwrapping the chocolate that was already filled with childhood memories and innocent bliss, Molly bit into it upside down, her face screwed up and her noes twitched, it was her 'you're right' face, but John didn't know that yet.
"So?" The questioning look in his eye gave away his anticipation.
"You're... And I can't believe I'm going to actually say this, as it defies all logic and sense... Right. And it's so much better!"
Of course, John couldn't help but look a little smug. "You know he wouldn't even try the bloody penguin biscuit, the joke was 'beneath' him."
A silence fell between them, much less awkward than it had been, but filled with the melancholy they welcomed with familiarity.
To the lovely guest who asked me to finish this, I hope you mean one day, because there are a hell of a lot of chapters to go before the end, but it will be :) I've written most of it, I'm just adding stuff and editing. (Thank you for all the pleases, I'll do my best).
There should be other chapter this week as well, as this was a little late as I was drowned in uni work (excuses I know, but it's literally late by half a week).
Gosh. I love you all :) I know this is an unpopular ship, but I'm so glad people are enjoying my slightly beloved work :P I'll stop rambling now, sorry.