Updating twice in one week?! Well, what better way to respond to the wonderful reviews for the last chapter :)
I would like to hear your thoughts on doing a separate one-shot with Mrs Hudson and Mrs Holmes matchmaking/scheming, should I do one now? Or leave it for the sequel?
Enjoy this one!
N is for negotiations, nitwits, nuts, niggles, necrotic, negligence, nuns, nightmare
John's idea for more teambuilding was turning out to be a nightmare, and for none of the reasons he had expected. Sherlock and Mycroft had been fairly well behaved, all things considered, Mary was getting along with everyone swimmingly well, and the sinusoidal relationship of the Lestrades seemed to be on the up again. It turned out that he had been very negligent when considering the fuss that Tom would make, especially after the hypnotising episode; Molly had quietly told him it had taken two weeks for Tom to shut up about it. They were supposed to be having an enjoyable weekend away (how he'd got Sherlock and Mycroft to desist from their oh so important work for more than an hour was still a mystery to him) team building in the guise of cookery themed events and a murder mystery day. It quickly became evident that the only mystery was how Tom was still alive.
The Saturday was pleasant enough, they'd enjoyed a series of cookery lessons, followed by a mini-bake off competition (unsurprisingly, the King of Cake himself, Mycroft, won easily). Saturday evening was spent each to their own, Sherlock disappeared off to do only God knows what, Mycroft spent seven straight hours on the phone in as many different languages, Mary and John had a quiet evening in with a film, Greg and his still-not-quite-divorced wife were enjoying the leftover cake while skyping the children (mostly to check the house was still intact), and as for Molly and Tom? Their shouts could be heard two floors below. Thankfully for the other parties, the words were not discernible, just the terse tonality of the conversation.
Frankly, Molly needed a week's holiday to herself, somewhere warm and without men. She'd tried to have a lovely day, the events that John had put so much effort into were well thought through and should have been awfully good fun, but yet again, Tom spoiled her fun. The snarky comments, the unwillingness to partake in the competition, feigning a nut allergy in front of the Holmes brothers! Why they didn't tear him a new one over it was unknown to her at this moment in time, she chuckled at the thought of them actually having manners, like that would ever happen. She'd given up trying to argue with Tom, he'd been shouting meaningless drivel at her for almost 20 minutes now, and it was all she could do to remember to look angry and not bored. She needed to change tack with him, he was getting more and more paranoid, which in turn was making him ill. A candid discussion of their relationship was not going to be of any use any time soon, given his propensity to burst into either fits of rage, or floods of tears. She'd done a little reading on the quiet about marriage counselling (again how Sherlock hadn't found this and thrown it in her face was worrying- she was not used to a reasonable social conscious from him and it was starting to bother her. Although not quite as much as the fact that someone should have a social conscious bothered her in the first place.), and perhaps negotiations were in order.
"Molly are you even listening to me?" Tom sighed, calming down from his flare up, which was caused by nothing other than her asking whether he did actually have a nut allergy, as she'd be more careful with what she bought home.
"Sorry, I zoned out, what were you saying?" Molly replied sheepishly, stifling a yawn.
"Bloody hell woman, I was trying to apologise for going off of on one and you can't be arsed to listen!" He spat in frustration
"Is there any point in apologising if you're going to continue repeating the behaviour?" Molly said quietly, using a phrase that her mother had often used on her wayward sister.
"I am sorry Molls, I don't know what's got in to me lately," Tom sighed, starting to feel a little guilty about his behaviour.
"You're not sleeping well, I'll get John to write you a prescription for something," Molly replied, trying to give Tom an out just to make her life easier
"I don't need anything-" Tom started protesting, unwilling to accept any notion that the state of their relationship may be so bad that it was starting to make him ill.
"Yes you do, in case you'd forgotten I am actually a qualified doctor, and I know how to treat live patients. Just ask Sherlock, the amount of times I've stitched him up is getting absurd." Molly interrupted, fed up with being fobbed off. Unfortunately, all she managed to do was irritate Tom and end up with another earful regarding how she couldn't just let Sherlock get away with everything. Frankly, Molly had heard enough on this subject to last her a lifetime, and was more than willing to take the bait – if only to try and put the conversation to bed.
"I can't stop doing it, no one else will and he refuses to go to hospitals or Mycroft. I made an oath Tom, who I treat is irrelevant, and I do not allow him free access, it's carefully negotiated access," She shouted, her temper wearing thin.
"Then re-negotiate" Tom spat, emphasising every syllable in a patronising manner, as if it were obvious what she should do.
"Using what leverage? If he did the experiments he did at mine at Baker Street Mrs Hudson would make him homeless. If he didn't have access to my work, then everyone else in the department would suffer and the ability of tens of people to do their jobs would be significantly decreased. His ability to solve crimes, and provide verdict clinching evidence would be massively hampered and I am not going to bear the guilt of knowing exactly how many people have walked free from court because you can't handle the sight of a little blood. How would you feel if I asked you to stop visiting your parents or watching programmes about fishing because they inconvenience me? Have you ever considered how your mother looking down at me, and belittling my profession at every possible moment makes me feel? Or how everything that happened over the last three years affected me as a person?" Molly was trembling with emotion, she had been bottling her feelings about their relationship for months now, Tom's issues with Sherlock having overridden everything.
"Mum doesn't belittle you!" Tom exclaimed, unwilling to accept anything against his mother.
"That's all you got from that? Are you even there when she mocks me?" Molly growled, her hands balling into fists.
"It's just teasing Molls, get over yourself," Tom said derisively,
"Right, if you're going to make ridiculous demands then so am I. If I stop Sherlock from visiting the flat, then I do not have to spend any more time with your mother, birthdays and Christmases excluded." Molly threatened, putting her foot down.
"Deal," Tom said far too quickly to have not thought about it before.
"So you have no interest in your wife being a part of your wider family. That'll make it interesting if you ever have children," Sherlock mused loudly from the balcony below.
"SHERLOCK! WHY ARE YOU SNOOPING AROUND UNDER MY WINDOW SILL?!" Molly bellowed, thoroughly fed up with her situation.
"I am not snooping, I happen to be checking my emails and tidying up my mind palace on my balcony when the most cacophonous noise made it quite impossible for me to do so. We've just had a complaint from a woman in Belgium! Besides there appears to be some interesting moss growing on the wall," Sherlock responded, trying his best not to look suspicious, unfortunately for him Molly saw right through it.
"You're a terrible liar Sherlock Holmes," Molly raised an eyebrow, calling his bluff. She'd seen him like this enough times to know when he was trying to get away with something.
"Fine, I was just being nosy. John won't stop going on at me about some 'looking out for you' nonsense. Like you can't stand up for yourself." Sherlock snorted
"Poor quality spying is not looking out for someone!" She hissed, unimpressed (but somewhat relieved) at the interruption to her row with Tom.
"But Mycroft-" Sherlock began, knowing his brother's phone call was not as innocent or work related as it seemed.
"Now is not the time to try and get your brother into trouble! Stop changing the subject because you've been caught out." Molly scolded him like a small child, expecting him to poke his tongue out or start sulking.
"You had no idea I was there until I made an ill-timed comment." Sherlock whined, adhering to the five year old stereotype.
"Would you butt out? You've caused enough issues already." Tom shouted down, glaring into the dark.
"Me? I think you'll find my behaviour has been quite exemplary! Just ask John, I'm sure he'll relish in telling you about the experiments I used to perform on him." Sherlock sniffed and stalked inside, slamming the balcony doors in the process. He'd been patient long enough, if Tom wanted issues, issues he'd get.
John had gone upstairs to use the bathroom, and it may well have been the nail in the coffin of his good willed weekend. It always seemed to end up as 'the best laid plans' with this lot. It took quite a lot of will power not to join in when Sherlock mentioned his name, recognising that if he stood any chance of getting him in a nun's outfit tomorrow for the murder mystery, best not to rile him too much now. It was worrying however, that Sherlock had more or less left Tom untouched from verbal and physical abuse these few months, even after a series of insults. John's military instincts kicked in, Sherlock had just declared war on Tom, whether he liked it or not.