Thank you all for your wonderful continued support, the next instalment is here! Huzzah!
F is for Friends
Molly had been called in to work early, Sherlock needed to see a body and was terrorising the general staff. That in itself was not a problem, it wasn't unusual and Molly was happy to help. This particular morning however was mostly spent stopping John from punching Sherlock in the face, whilst trying to do a post-mortem before her actual shift started in relatively little time. As amusing as it was to watch little and large bicker like children, in her haste this morning she'd forgotten her breakfast and the lunch she'd prepared the evening before, meaning she was sleep deprived, hungry and would quickly move beyond amused irritation into kicking them out of the morgue, something Sherlock would not appreciate in the slightest. Molly had tried every trick in the book to get him to go away, even up into the lab, so she could have something to eat. If she didn't get breakfast in the next half hour, she might have to start contemplating finding a sedative. Thankfully her phone rang,
"Hey Molls, you left all your food here, want me to drop it in?" Tom's cheery voice bubbled down the line,
"Please, that would be really, really helpful. I'll see you in a bit, bye," She thanked her lucky stars one of the men in her life remembered she needed to eat!
It wasn't long before Molly had another call saying he was in the cafeteria on the ground floor, she started to take off her lab coat and was hoping to sneak out while John and Sherlock were arguing over whether a person would literally cut off their nose to spite their face. Sherlock was convinced of it- citing van Gogh and his ear, John was pretty adamant that Sherlock was, in fact, insane.
"Where do you think you're going Molly?" Sherlock asked sharply as she got one arm free,
"To get some food! I've been here for hours and I'm hungry." Molly snapped,
"John, go and pick up Molly's food parcel from Tom." He waved his hand dismissively at his best friend, who did not take kindly to this,
"What? Why can't she go?" John exclaimed,
"She needs to finish the body." Sherlock answered calmly,
"Can it not wait 15 minutes?" John almost shouted, refraining from jumping up and down,
"No, Le Strade is expecting us at a crime scene in half an hour," Sherlock rolled his eyes, John was not complying in the manner he was expected to.
"When were you going to tell me that? I'd quite like some breakfast and some sleep! Not outrageous demands, Sherlock." If it were biologically possible, steam would be pouring out of John's ears, he was nearly the appropriate shade of red after all.
"Well you could pick something up for yourself while you're getting Molly's. I thought that was a given." Sherlock said slowly, as if to a child, smirking at John's rage.
"Nothing is a given with you." John muttered under his breath, storming out of the morgue.
"Where's Molly?" Tom asked as John approached him,
"His highness, the royal arse of St Bart's, won't let her out yet. Sorry, Tom, this is just how it's always been. He doesn't deal well with change." John explained as best he could, getting into the food queue for his own breakfast,
"What is their relationship?" Tom asked suddenly, John frowned briefly,
"Sherlock doesn't do friends. Or at least doesn't recognise that he does them. If he was to do friends by the conventional definition, then Molly would be one of his closest friends, but he doesn't. You'd probably have to ask them to be honest." John shrugged, queuing for a bacon sandwich.
"It's just; it's a really abnormal friendship. There are things that they don't blink an eyelid at that most people would find suspicious." Tom continued, he felt like John was the only person he could talk to about this.
"That's just Sherlock. Look, I've got to get back before…" John, however, was growing tired of Tom's inability to accept the oddity of Sherlock Holmes. Marriage is about compromise, and John knew who would win out if Tom made her choose, and it wasn't him.
"Before what?" Sherlock's low voice interrupted,
"Why are you here?" John asked exasperated, was it so much to ask for five minutes peace?
"You were taking too long, and Molly wouldn't stop whining." He said shortly, taking the lunch box out of Tom's hands.
"Sherlock, what are you doing?" John asked, beginning to get irritated,
"Taking this to Molly. She's awfully annoying when she hasn't eaten." Sherlock said shortly, turning on his heel.
"Right, so she's allowed to eat, but I'm not?" John called after him
"I can tune you out more easily." Sherlock replied, John held his breath and counted to ten. Nothing good would come of murdering Sherlock in public, too many witnesses. If he did it later, Greg wouldn't press charges- he might even help.
"That's as normal an interaction as you'll get." John sighed, anger replaced by exhaustion.
It was in the privacy of a cab on the way to the crime scene that John decided to try and solve the 'Molly' puzzle.
"Sherlock, what is Molly to you?" He asked suddenly, breaking the silence,
"She's… Molly," Sherlock frowned, he wasn't sure where John was going with this, and didn't like the look in his eye. He was up to something.
"Insightful." John said sarcastically.
"I don't do friends John," Sherlock reminded, trying to stop the conversation before it got started.
"If I'm your friend, then Molly definitely is," John pointed out, Sherlock narrowed his eyes,
"How are you quantifying this? You and Molly have different functions to me," John should have known he'd have a scientific approach,
"Right. She does things for you, she helped you kill yourself. She comes in at all hours to help," The shorter man began listing some of the more normal aspects of their friendship, Sherlock raised an eyebrow,
"She also does my washing on occasion, makes my brother cake, and has previously dyed my hair, what's that have to do with anything?" Sherlock said breezily, as if it were the most normal thing in the world.
"I did wonder what happened when Mrs Hudson went on holiday," John chuckled to himself
"I am capable of looking after myself," Sherlock sulked, he was perfectly capable, he just preferred not to.
"I'll believe that when I see it." John scoffed, grinning at his best friend's mock-hurt expression,
"Look, Tom is still getting used to you. You and Molly are not normal friends." He changed tack, maybe Sherlock needed to see it from a different perspective,
"What are we then, oh social guru," Sherlock mocked,
"From what you've said, she's somewhere in between your sister and your wife." John mused out loud,
"Oh please." Sherlock snorted
"You do treat her in a very similar way to Mycroft now I think about it. You only speak to them when you need them, they're both in the business of saving your life, they both like cake. The two of you bicker over scientific equipment the same way you and Mycroft argue over deductions." The doctor continued his train of thought, ignoring Sherlock's interruptions
"Really, John-"
"This machine is quicker, this one is more accurate, but you don't need accurate, you just need to know whether it's there or not, but I want to be able to quantify it later, then you can run another sample later," John mimicked a conversation from that morning over the patient's toxicology report and whether they should test for something off the radar. In the end, Molly had won, Molly always won.
"Not necessary-"
"On top of that, she does things for you only someone's mother or wife could be expected to do. Actually, I'm not sure whether she is more similar a mum's role or a wife's role for you."
"That's enough-"
"To be honest, she's the only one that could not kill you long enough to marry you," He finished, holding back the laughter,
"She's marrying Tom, John." Sherlock said coldly, glaring down at his friend,
"So you'd rather think of her as your mother then? Somewhere between mother and sister. Lucky Molly, not even friend-zoned, family-zoned." John shook his head, the whole situation was farcical.
"What on Earth are you talking about?" Relationship colloquialisms weren't Sherlock's thing surprisingly.
"We're here," John said, quickly departing the cab, leaving behind a moderately bemused Sherlock.
So the next few will be G is for Graves, Goo and Goggles, H is for Handcuffs and I is for Injections. There will be guacamole somewhere, so keep an eye out.