Molly pushes the door with some trepidation. Her first day at work, as a werewolf. If the smell of death was subtle previously, it is now assaulting her senses like never before. She sniffs the air. There is another scent. Like clean soap and musky books. Added to that is something else she cannot figure out. It almost makes her mouth water. Her heart lurches to her feet when she sees the ever familiar presence in her lab.
So the scent is Sherlock. Goodness he smells wonderful. Well, he smelt great to her even when she was human, but now it is totally different. Are those butterflies in her stomach? She shakes her head. Stop it Molly, she scolds herself. Sherlock is hunched over a microscope. He has not realized she is here. A perk of being a werewolf then. She clears her throat.
He whips around. At first his face is passive, and then he notices there is something different about her. He cannot figure out what that is. He says, "You didn't come by tomorrow."
"Yeah. I wasn't feeling too great so I visited a friend." Molly says as she shrugs off her jacket. She had decided to wear this stupid girly blouse a friend her gifted her on one birthday.
"I have some blood samples, I would like them to be tested." If he figures out she is lying, he does not say anything.
"Okay." And he leaves. She holds her breath till she is sure he has left the building. As soon as he leaves, she takes a deep breath. His scent still lingers here.
"Argh!" she flails her hands.
Stiles looks around for a place to eat. After the ubiquitous tourist sightseeing done, he finds himself in east London, hungry and maybe, a little lost. And completely jetlagged, not to forget. After walking around a bit, he finally finds a little bistro which looked welcoming enough. He pushes the door and as his gaze wanders around the spacious interior all done in earthy tones, his eyes falls on two people sitting down for lunch. The woman looks to be in her mid-thirties and the man looks very familiar. Stiles halts in his track. Said man looks up and he exclaims, rising from his seat, "Stiles?"
"Jackson?"
The woman turns to him and smiles, "You are Stiles Stilinski then?"
Stiles looks at her in surprise. She laughs, "Sorry Jackson told me about you. My name is Molly Hooper. Please take a seat."
Stiles slides in and Jackson asks, "Hey what are you doing here?"
"Huh. Long story." Stiles begins narrating his quizzing experience.
Jackson smiles, "So what is happening in Beacon Hills?"
Stiles smirks, "Just Beacon Hills or Lydia?"
"Both."
Stiles looks at Molly and hesitates. Jackson says, "Don't worry, she is a werewolf."
"Oh." Jackson has made friends here. He thought no supernatural happenings and now he is having lunch with two werewolves. Awesome. He just cannot catch a break now can he?
Stiles gives a brief history about the Alpha pack and druids and the darach. He especially does not miss to mention Lydia and Aidan's 'relations'. He observes with some satisfaction the hardening of Jackson's jaws at that special update.
Molly listens to the narrative with eyes wide in horror and mouth opened in awe. Here she though there were only werewolves. Now she is learning about druids and whatnots. And judging by the story, she thinks she does not want to go to Beacon Hills any sooner, thank you very much.
Molly says after Stiles finishes, "Lovely place Beacon Hills."
"Yeah." Stiles smiles.
Jackson leans forward and rests his elbows on the table top. He says, "Good thing you are here. She is a new at this werewolf thing, like been-bitten-yesterday new. The full moon is in three days, I need your help."
Stiles really wants to bang his head on the table now.
Sherlock does not find her in the lab. Someone said she is out for lunch. He deduces she must be at that bistro two blocks down. He starts walking there.
As he reaches the entrance, he stops. He spots Molly sitting with two boys. One muscular with closely cropped dark blonde hair and the other, lanky and dark brown hair sticking out in every direction. They do not look any older than eighteen. He frowns.
Everything is different about her today. He cannot deny that when she had taken off her jacket in the lab he had noticed the difference. She looked more…shapely. Or maybe it was the blouse. But the pencil skirt she wore showed off her calves and posterior and he could say with great conviction they looked more curved than usual. Her skin too was glowing, and her hair looked shinier than before. He wonders what is going on. And now she is laughing and having her lunch with two teenagers.
He decides to go wait at St Barts and send her a text. This new Molly is mystifying him too much.