A/N
And here's the second chapter. Enjoy.
Disclaimer: I own nothing. John Le Carre is a wonderful mystery writter! P.S. My book hasn't arrived yet from Ebay. :(
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It was ordinary at work. Sherlock had texted earlier demanding some results. Everything ready, Molly waited for him while doing other tests for a case of Lestrade's. She'd have to leave in less than an hour from work to get to the conference. The pathologist dropped some papers on the floor accindentaly when the door of the lab opeend. Knowing it was Sherlock and probably John she bends down to get them.
"Hello. I'll give you your tests in a jiffy," she said not looking at the door at all.
"It's ok. I can wait." The person who was definitely not Sherlock said with amusement from his place at the door.
Molly froze. She hadn't heard that voice in years. Ten years to be exact. A bloody decade and he chose to show himself in her face now?! But the voice hadn't changed in a bit. Maybe it was slightly deeper and more masculine but all the same she remembered. She remembered how that particular voice told her 'I love you's in the mornings. 'Goodbye' was the last word she had heard from that voice. From him.
Yes. It was indeed him. It was Jonathan. Jonathan Pyne. Her former lover and doomed love of her life.
She stood up with her papers in her right hand and set eyes on him for the first time in ten years. He seemed to be taking her in too.
"Hello, how can I help you?" she said with a steady and calm voice despite her inner turmoil.
"So you have forgotten me." he said.
"Oh, no sir. I'm not the one that has forgotten people and promises. I once thought I knew a Jonathan. I loved him even. But I have no recollection of you." the pathologist said with fire in her eyes. Her stubbornness and fierceness on display after a decade. Nice. Maybe it was time for a change.
At that precise moment, two figures entered the room followed by a third. Sherlock, John, and Greg were looking between the female doctor and the tall man who had barely entered the lab. You could cut the tension with a butter knife.
The man, John thought, was taller than Sherlock by a few inches. Slender and thin with dirty blonde hair that curled slightly on his head. He had bright blue eyes and a body to die for. He was wearing a blue designer's suit with a slightly opened write shirt that put Sherlock's clothes to shame. When he turned to greet them, Johnn saw through him. They were alike. Certainly not in height. He was definitely in the military once. Though it was long ago. The short doctor may have picked a few tricks from the consulting detective's book.
John saluted him when their eyes met, as a soldier would salute another one. The anonymous till now man saluted back and offered his hand.
"Jonathan Pyne. Nice to meet you," he said with a polite smile.
"John Wats-"
Of course, he wouldn't be able to finish his greetings as his best friend interfered.
"There's no time for niceties. Time is of great essence. Who are you and what are you doing in my lab?" the dark haired man rudely asked.
Before Jonathan could reply though, a voice that was once sweet as honey spoke with emphasis to the detective.
"This is not YOUR lab!" Molly was getting tired with all of them already.
"You are MY pathologist, Molly. Hence, MY lab." he finished with a smug smile.
"I'm not YOUR pathologist! You are alive! You don't actually need one! Jesus!" after a deep breath she added, "What's gotten into you today?!"
Another person entered the lab. Usually, it was silent, thought Molly. Did they all have to come today?! Seeing Donovan, Molly instantly felt a headache coming.
"Hello freak." the woman said. "Hello, freak's company. Whose the new guy?" the- god make her- detective's assistant asked. The question asked with a vague finger pointing at Jonathan.
For the first time in years, Molly talked back at the annoying female that had caused significant wounds in the pathologist self-confidence.
"I'm really not in the mood for you, right now, Donovan. What do you want?" she said with a tired sigh.
"I want the results of Mr. Brown's toxicology. Are you ok, poppet? Did the freak insult you again? Are your lips too small for the rest of you again? They seem bigger today. Did you go to the doctor I recommended you the other day?" Donovan feigned interest and looked appreciatedly as the forensic registar lowered her gaze to the ground. She loved riling her up every time she saw the small woman. She was such an easy target.
John and Jonathan were ready to come to the pathologist's rescue but the new arrival at the room didn't allow them to voice their thoughts on that horrid woman.
"Molly, darling. You should leave now if you don't want to be stuck in traffic."
The unresolved tension could be easily seen by Mike Stanford just as he entered. He guessed it just by Molly's tense stiff posture and John's death glare at Donovan.
Poor girl. He wasn't prepared however for the blond man that was standing near Watson. He couldn't be... He couldn't possibly be Molly's Jonathan. Even if his instinct told him that he was the one and only. The young pathologist was like a daughter to him as his was killed in an accident years ago. She had told him everything about the young man that broke her heart. What a mess! The girl would never have a break. And on her birthday too. Maybe he could give her her present another day? Probably.
Molly relaxed and gave a genuine smile to the older man that was her boss, mentor and father figure.
"Yes, thank you, Mike. I'll leave shortly."
After a meaningful glance in her eyes, Mike departed. The birthday girl busied herself with finding the files Donovan and Sherlock required in her files. When she finally found them Molly handed them respectively and got into her office. She put her Burberry coat over her red jacket. Taking her big handbag that contained her laptop and things
When outside she faced the crowd minus the she-devil. They were looking at her in an odd way but 'let them look' she thought.
"Goodbye gentlemen." the pathologist said smiling and nodding to John.
End of chapter
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A/N
I can't wait to hear your thoughts even though I think that no one reads this.