Scattered Scenes

Episode 1, Series 6: picks up after the end of series 5.

A couple of days later...

Sherlock is in Mycroft's office, seated in a leather chair, tapping his fingers on the armrests.

Mycroft turns away from the fireplace and sighs, "Punctuality doesn't seem to be Dr. Watson's strong suit these days."

"He has a child. That's what happens when you have children."

"Oh god," says Mycroft with a chuckle. "Poor Dr. Watson."

Sherlock looks up at his brother in a curious way - with a hint of disgust.

Seeing his younger brother's expression, Mycroft explains as he walks over to his desk, "I mean, I think young Rosamund is a doll. But children are a lot of work."

Sherlock can't deny it as he has on many an occasion taken care of Rosie. It was a disaster at first... not knowing what to do when she'd cry, or whine, or when she'd crawl all over his flat. A flat which Sherlock was forced into making kid-friendly. That was not fun. But the detective does admit that having Rosie in his life has helped him to be more caring. It has helped in the dealings with his younger sister... and processing all sorts of emotions that have occupied his mind (and heart) the past year and a half.

Mycroft, now seated in his chair twiddling his thumbs, looks at the clock on his desk. "Hmm, twenty-seven minutes."

"He'll be here soon," assures Sherlock.

Silence.

Mycroft decides to make conversation even though he has very rarely had success of it with his younger brother. "So... have you ever thought about it?"

"Thought about..?" asks Sherlock.

"Children."

Sherlock is confused by Mycroft's question. "What about children?"

"Ever thought about having any of your own?"

Sherlock starts to laugh as he stands up. "It really throws you off now when John's not in the room with us, doesn't it?"

"It's a valid question," says a more serious Mycroft. "Seems rather sad that our line stops here, with only the three of us."

"Well, Eurus wasn't given a chance," Sherlock looks directly at his brother but realizes he shouldn't be blaming him anymore. "He did his best," he quickly thinks to himself.

"You know I regret everything I've done in terms of our sister. Even if my intentions were good." Mycroft looks down at his hands.

"I know," admits Sherlock.

Silence.

The detective breaks said silence by quickly changing the topic back to 'children'. "I don't remember ever thinking or having this great need to have my own."

Mycroft is pleasantly surprised by his brother's openness.

"Besides, I'm Rosamund's godparent, so that's somewhat like being a father." Sherlock thinks and quickly faces his brother. "Isn't it?"

"I suppose that makes me somewhat of an uncle?" says the older Holmes, to which Sherlock subtly nods.

Mycroft smiles. A very genuine smile. A very rare genuine smile. But he quickly realizes it and readjusts himself. "Right. Well," says the older gentleman as he stands up. "I believe you are still working on that new case? The one you were working on when I ran into you at St. Bartholomew's?"

"No. Turns out it was a suicide after all," says Sherlock. He remembers to ask, "What were you doing there?"

"Where?" asks Mycroft as he pours himself a glass of water from the pitcher on the table directly across from his desk.

Sherlock turns to his brother. "Did you have anything to do with Molly Hooper's return to St. Bart's?" he asks directly.

Mycroft smirks. "That took you a while to figure out."

"Why are you involved, Mycroft?" asks Sherlock looking for answers.

"Have you spoken to her?"

"No. She hasn't seen me yet." he answers and repeats his previous question, "Why are you involved?"

Mycroft sighs as he brings his glass of water back to his desk. "I told you, I'm only looking out for her best interest."

"Why?" asks a stern detective.

"You know very well why, Sherlock." Mycroft looks directly at his brother.

"No, I don't." he says.

"I've known you a long time, brother. Yes, Dr. Watson may be your BFF as the youngsters would call it..."

Sherlock is disturbed by his brother's use of the acronym.

"But I have an advantage over our dear doctor."

"And what's that?" Sherlock challenges him.

"I've seen you as a child... full of emotion, love and kindness. Capable of love."

Sherlock dismisses him by collecting his coat from the chair. "I've heard enough."

"Well, don't you want to know why I've been so keenly involved in Ms. Hooper's wellbeing?"

Sherlock can't help but stay and find out.

"How did Eurus know?"

"Know what? You have to give me more, brother dearest, I cannot understand your gibberish."

"How did she know to use Ms. Hooper instead of Ms. Adler? Hmm?"

Sherlock doesn't have an answer.

"Not even Jim Moriarty had any clue about Ms. Hooper's role in your life. But Eurus, our dear sister who for more than two thirds of her life was isolated on an island hours away, knew of your feelings for..."

"That's ridiculous," the detective cuts him off and brushes it off even though he himself had questioned it.

"She saw past the fast talking and the cold facade that you had feel..."

"It could've been anyone. She could've picked anyone and I would've done the same."

"No... Eurus chose Ms. Hooper." Mycroft stands up again. "Oh come on, little brother, I was witness to your admission of love. Stop denying it! And the way you have reacted the past several months to the mere mention of her name..."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

Mycroft knowingly smiles, "You know exactly what I'm talking about." After a pause he continues. "Who has occupied your mind more than anyone the past year? And why has certain correspondence with Ms. Adler halted?"

Sherlock quickly glances at Mycroft, "You've been tapping my phone to find out..?" He pauses. "That's low, even for you, Mycroft!"

Mycroft says genuinely, "I will do what I must to protect you and those we care about the most."

Sherlock is worked up, not by his brother's meddling ways, but by the fact that his brother is spot on to assume something is going on. He half-gives up and decides to come clear, "I..."

They are interrupted by a tap on the door. A smartly dressed woman ushers Dr. Watson into the office.

John enters the room in haste. "I'm so very sorry, gentleman! Rosie wouldn't stop crying." He looks up and realizes he had just walked into something and so he asks, "Oh, should I come back in a few?"

Sherlock moves to the corner of the office to calm himself down.

"Welcome, Dr. Watson. Please, do sit." Mycroft gestures at one of the chairs.

John assumes a sibling spat had just taken place, and so he takes a seat.

A few moments pass as Mycroft waits for his brother.

A composed Sherlock walks over and takes the other seat. "Why did you want to see us, Mycroft?"

"I have a case for you involving a very wealthy man from Dublin."

Scene fades.

An hour or so later...

Sherlock and Watson have just been briefed by Mycroft about a possible kidnapping of a wealthy Dubliner in London. They are to follow any leads on the case and report to Mycroft ASAP.

"So... what was that? Before I showed up?" asks John as they walk out to the street to catch a taxi.

"What do you mean?" asks Sherlock, who had momentarily forgotten his earlier exchange with Mycroft.

The doctor stops walking for a moment prompting Sherlock to stop, turn, and look at him. "You and Mycroft were clearly having a disagreement when I walked in."

"Oh, that." Sherlock tries to brush it off.

"Oh that?" repeats John. "What?"

"It was nothing," dismisses Sherlock.

John notices Sherlock lying. "Okay, well... if you don't want to talk about it..."

"What's with everyone wanting to talk today?"

John is taken aback by Sherlock's sudden animation. "Everyone meaning Mycroft and now, me?"

"Yes," says Sherlock. "Also, if you weren't so late, I wouldn't have had to converse with Mycroft."

"Oh, so it's my fault?" asks an offended John.

"Of course it is."

"I had to make sure Rosie was okay. I can't leave a crying child."

"Oh, please. You have a nanny." Sherlock knows he's being unfair, but he cannot stop going on. "You could've let her handle Rosamund. Also, ever thought about boarding school?"

John is beside himself, "She is only two!"

"Excuses, excuses!" Sherlock exclaims as he paces a bit.

A few pedestrians turn as they pass the bickering odd couple.

"You know what? I'm going to take my own taxi!" says an angry John.

"Good!" shouts Sherlock.

Both men march angrily in opposite directions.

Sherlock knows very well that he was in the wrong. If he had let John continue to ask him what was going on with him and Mycroft, he would have to admit it out loud, and he wasn't about to let that happen. Instead, he diverted the conversation into a petty, heated one.

A couple of hours later...

Sherlock enters St. Bart's morgue to see if any fresh unidentified bodies were delivered to the morgue. He spots Ms. Pober by one of the working stations doing some paperwork. "Seriously, what kind of a name is that?" he mutters under his breath as he nears the lady in her white coat.

"Mr. Holmes," says Shelby Pober. "Did Mr. Watson forget anything?"

Sherlock is confused. "Watson? What?"

"Yeh," she says as she continues to work. "I gave him all the details we have on the John Does from this week."

Sherlock catches on. "Ah."

It seems while Sherlock had taken the longer route to the morgue to spend more time wallowing in the tiff, John had been productive more quickly than the detective.

Ms. Pober turns to him, "Is there anything else?"

"Nope. Thank you, Susan," he turns away and then turns back again to see the woman's disapproving face. "Suzanne?"

The woman rolls her eyes, "I do have a lot of work to do, Mr. Holmes."

"Right. Of course," he thinks. "I apologize, John is very good at this stuff."

"Remembering first names?" asks a sassy Ms. Pober.

Sherlock nods and starts to walk away.

Feeling a bit of regret for her attitude, she offers as he walks to the door, "it's Shelby."

Sherlock stops at the door, turns, and subtly smiles at the specialist registrar before he exists the morgue.

As he walks down hallway, a thought pops in his mind. "It's high time I visit her," he thinks. And so he turns the corner and walks into the lab.

There she is, with her back facing the entrance of the lab.

"Molly," he says softly from a distance.

She turns around to meet his eyes. "Oh!" she jumps a bit in surprise. "Sherlock, I didn't see you there."

He smiles. "Long time Ms. Hooper."

She sets her tools down on the counter and walks up to him. He responds by giving a quick but deliberate kiss on her cheek.

"Good to see you, Sherlock," she says as she looks up and smiles.

He notices how she is no longer flustered by his presence nor his touch.

"You just missed John," she says as she walks back to her side of the counter.

"Oh, he was here too, was he?" says a sarcastic Sherlock.

Molly noticed the tone. "Yeah, he just stopped by to see me." She notices something. "Uh oh, what happened?"

"What makes you think anything happened?"

Molly cocks her head to the side and says, "It's obvious something happened between you two."

Sherlock sighs and fiddles with some of the lab equipment on the other end of the counter. "He was late to a meeting with Mycroft and I may have snapped at him."

"Because he was late to a meeting with Mycroft?" asks a confused Molly.

"It was Rosie, she was the reason he was late and I may have..." he pauses as he realizes how ridiculous he sounds. "I maybe have suggested boarding school."

Molly gasps. "Sherlock, she is only two!"

"Yes, everyone keeps reminding me."

Molly smiles. "I'm sure the two of you will work it out. I'm actually going to see John and Rosie tonight after work if you want me to put in a good word."

Sherlock looks at the kind woman from the side. "Why were you gone for so long?"

"Just so many places to see, I just couldn't stop." Molly leaves out some other reasons she was gone for so long.

"Molly," he says as he steps closer. "Is that the only reason?"

She sighs. "No, not at first. I genuinely wanted to stay away because... I didn't want to see, hear, or even think of you. But then things changed. I no longer wanted you."

It shouldn't have, but that last line hit him hard.

Molly admits. "What I wanted with you... it would've never worked and if it did work, it would've been so dysfunctional that I'd start hating you. And I don't want that to happen, Sherlock." She chuckles a bit, "Don't worry, I won't be pining after you anymore. You're off the hook."

Sherlock is stunned at Molly's newly acquired clarity.

"Your brother actually helped get me my job back when I was ready to return. I owe him..."

"You know, Mycroft had you followed," he cuts in.

"Yes, he mentioned! Something about someone who knew Moriarty was killing people he knew? He didn't share details."

The detective realizes that Molly is in the dark about the real reason for Mycroft's newfound interest in her wellbeing.

Sherlock can't help it, Molly's words, "What I wanted with you... it would've never worked..." and "I no longer wanted you." kept ringing in his ears.

"Sherlock?" says Molly as she noticed him lost in his thoughts? "You alright?"

He snaps out of it, "Yes, yes - of course..." he adds, "and happy to see you."

Molly smiles and goes back to her work.

Sherlock exists the lab.

The next day...

Sherlock is in his flat and on his computer researching missing persons reports when John shows up at the door.

The detective is surprised that it only took a day for John to show up, but he turns in his chair and looks at his friend.

"Well," says the doctor. "This has gone on long enough."

"I thought it would take longer for you to come," says Sherlock as he stands up.

John walks a few steps towards his friend. "If I waited for you to apologize, I'd be on my deathbed."

"I'm sorry, John."

This genuinely surprised John but he accepts. "It's okay."

Sherlock paces a bit. "Before we talk about the case, I think I should explain myself."

John decides to take a seat.

"First of all, I know Rosamund is only two but even if she is of age, I'm adamantly against boarding school for her. As her godparent, I must insist it should never be an option."

John smiles, "Good, as her father I agree."

"Secondly, you did walk into something yesterday. I..." he pauses, but continues to pace. "I don't know how to explain it..." he finds it difficult to express his feelings.

John sighs and says, "I can guess what you and Mycroft were arguing about."

Sherlock looks at John in surprise. "You can?"

"It was about Molly, wasn't it?"

Sherlock realizes that his friend is more intuitive than he gives him credit for. Maybe thanks to fatherhood or Mary's influence, but he wasn't sure John knew the absolute truth.

"I've noticed Mycroft's interest in Molly's wellbeing ever since Sherrinford," explains the doctor. "But what I can't figure out is why. Mycroft isn't exactly altruistic."

Sherlock realizes that it's high time he confessed. Who better to confide in than his good friend? "It's because of me."

"What do you mean?" asks John.

"Mycroft is keeping Molly safe because of me."

"You asked him to?" asks John.

"No, but I suppose I should be thankful."

John is a bit confused.

"John, what I'm about to tell you is very personal. I haven't shared it with anyone - despite Mycroft's actions from whatever he has deduced on his own, he isn't privy to this either."

"Okay," says a confused John.

"Since Sherrinford, I've been questioning a lot of things in my life."

"Of course," adds John. "It was a very stressful time."

"One incident in particular that made me question another part of my life which I've..." he pauses trying to conjure the best words to describe it. "I've deliberately left dormant."

"What do you mean?"

Sherlock finds it very difficult to explain himself and so he walks up to the window and looks out.

"Sherlock?"

Silence.

John tries to break the silence by chuckling, "Oh god, this is not where you tell me you're in love with me, is it?"

This makes Sherlock react with a subtle smile.

Silence.

Still looking out the window, Sherlock confesses. "I love Molly Hooper."

John is more confused. "Of course, I love her too. She is after all a very good friend."

Sherlock turns to his doctor friend and gives him a meaningful glance.

"Oh," says John. "You're in love with Molly Hooper. In love with Molly Hooper?"

"It's mad, I know."

"No... not mad," John tries to process. "I wouldn't say it's mad. I mean, Molly is..."

"Too good for me."

John nods, "Far too good for you."

Silence.

"Frankly," says John, "I'm not that surprised. I mean, I remember thinking that maybe you do feel something for Molly after what happened in Sherrinford. You struggled to let her go. At first I thought it was an ego thing, but I suppose I did see more."

"But..." starts Sherlock.

"Molly has moved on, Sherlock." says John.

Sherlock nods.

"Even if she hadn't, I wouldn't recommend you pursue her."

"I know."

"It would be utterly mad to be with someone who worships you despite all the humiliation you've put her through over the years. Not healthy at all."

Sherlock realizes the truth in what John says.

John sees the need for a joke. "Then again, I married a hit woman... so what do I know?"

Silence.

The detective brushes it off, "Anyway, we should get started on the case."

Footsteps up the stairs make the two men look over at the door.

It's Mrs. Hudson with a tray of goodies and tea. "I thought I heard John so decided to treat you both to some tea and biscuits," says a chipper land lady.

John walks over to Mrs. H. "Let me help you."

Sherlock goes back to his computer. He sighs and starts typing into the device.

Mrs. Hudson leaves as John sets the tray on the table. He smiles a bit to himself which Sherlock catches.

"What is it?" asks Sherlock.

"Nothing really," says a smiling John as he pours the tea. "At least that part of your life is no longer dormant."

Scene fades.

Thank you for reading! I was convinced to do another season of Scattered Scenes, so here they are. Two more episodes to go. Your comments are always welcome!