So, here is another chapter. I know I should move along the plot but right now, I just have these sorts of chapters that are more about characters interacting with each others - but, soon, I promise, the plot will move long a little more.
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The previous day's end had been quite disappointing to Sherlock. First, they hadn't been able to determine the first location of the crime. Secondly, Molly had deserted him and gone back to undoubtedly have "lots of sex" with the lover. Third, as he had anticipated, the tox report would need to be redone, Robinson being quite the lousy replacement for his pathologist. And finally, there was the dream. A strange dream about marriage to one's work, engagement rings and lurid half fantasies. He wasn't so worried about the sexual component of the dream – after all, his subconscious did have to unload frustration in some way or another. No, what worried him was that he remembered it. Normally, he deleted everything related to his sleeping musings. Why would that get stuck in his mind? And why all those disturbing feelings lately? To say he didn't appreciate the distraction was quite the euphemism. Worst, never before had the distraction been so great. Yes, there had been some moments with the Woman and he had to admit that he did feel some shame for having danced to her little tune like a puppet for a while. Even Janine, at the wedding, had elicited some little sparks. But in both cases, the women had been somewhat part of the cases, so there was some element of the thrill of the chase that had clung to them. Now, what he couldn't understand was why he had those kind of thoughts again. It's not like there were any women… things involved in the case. Well, besides the victims but that really wasn't the point.
As Sherlock was pacing across the room, lost in his thoughts and frankly, quite reluctant at examining what might be the reason of his churlish mood, Mrs. Hudson came in with a trash of tea. She graciously avoided being hit over by Sherlock – all those years of exotic dancing and evading lecherous men did in fact hone quite convenient reflexes – and place the tea pot on the table. Sherlock finally stopped his pacing and came back to get his cup of tea. Once the mug in his hand, he dramatically seated himself in his chair, still silent until Mrs. Hudson decided to talk:
"Dear, are you alright?" she asked, half-expecting Sherlock to ignore her and so, was startled when he answered.
"Definitely not. My mind is in overdrive and I can't stop it." He replied sulking.
"Don't worry dear, I'm sure that you'll solve the case." She replied comfortingly.
At that Sherlock got up, winded into a brusque fit of bad mood. He went back at pacing but this time, he kept talking.
"Oh, how I wish it was about the case! But no, my mind is rotting. Ever since I came back, there has been this stream of feelings. I didn't have that before! Why do have I that now? Oh, just to go back to those simpler days when everything was neat, clear of all sentiment. But, of course, it had to change. Everything changed! And John, of course, he couldn't keep his mouth shut. No, he had to go and make some little witty statement about sainthood and marriage and whatever things that goes in his mind. Yes, just make it harder, John!" kept rambling Sherlock.
At that Mrs. Hudson felt her heart constrict. Finally it had dawned on Sherlock that John did move on. Poor Sherlock. She knew that one day or another Sherlock would finally understand that it would never be like before. Well, she had thought that it would catch up with him much sooner, all with the wedding and baby thing. But, people are fools when they're in love. She shook her head silently. Her heart was breaking for Sherlock but she had to admit that it might be better that way. After all, John had been quite conflicted about his homosexuality and he did seem to be genuinely in love with his wife – even if there had been some bumps here and there. So that's why, as Sherlock kept rambling about distractions and change, Mrs. Hudson finally decided to interrupt him and propose:
"Sherlock, I know it's hard to have your heart broken. But, you know that John is happy now, don't you?"
This cut Sherlock in his stride. He turned and looked at Mrs. Hudson, quite befuddled.
"What about John?" he asked
Poor thing, he really didn't want to admit it, did he? Now, she had to try and rise Sherlock's mood. But how to do that? While she loved the man like a son, his interests were really ghastly and she wasn't sure that she wanted her walls to take another round of shooting. But who could she call? Well, not John. Nor Mary. Oh, there was this charming girl that was so good at calming Sherlock. The one who worked at the morgue. Yes, delicious, cute Molly. Mrs. Hudson had to say that sometimes she had wondered if Sherlock wouldn't have fancied the little thing if there hadn't been John. She remembered that he hadn't looked that pleased at the attention bestowed on her by Lestrade that Christmas a long time ago. But no, it seemed the girl was just a friend. A good one too. And cheery. She would surely know what to make of the detective.
"Well, he's moved on. But you're still his best friend. You know what? Text Molly, I'm sure she will be able to cheer you up! She is such a darling." she told brightly.
At that, Sherlock's mood darkened further. He had a hurt look about him that Mrs. Hudson couldn't quite understand. But before she could add anything else, Sherlock stormed out of the room to his bedroom. Yet, before the door slammed shut, she distinctly heard Sherlock mutter:
"Oh for Love's sake, not you too!"
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By the way, if you want to know what kind of dream Sherlock had, you can check the story I wrote about it: Dream on. At first, I wanted to include it in this story but felt that it would really get into the way of the already slowed pace. So, I decided, to have it beside the main story.