A Constant State of Motion [ Sherlock & Molly ]
Silence was not something that Sherlock felt uncomfortable in. Of course not, as silence allowed him to think, to concentrate, and was much more preferable to the prattle that usually went on around him. Two years, however, had changed that somewhat; there were no idiots from Scotland Yard around, especially not Donovan and Anderson, and the press wasn't sniffing near him as they were too busy eating up the tragic story of the hero believed to be a fraud who took his own life out of anguish.
But two years had changed a lot of things. Like John, for example. Though he had originally been so heartbroken at the front of Sherlock's grave, so small and withdrawn, he now had moved on. He was engaged. He was to be married. He no longer lived at 221B Baker Street. Not to mention that he had a caterpillar growing on his upper lip. And, while Mary Morstan seemed like an...interesting individual who was surprisingly fond of him, something twisted in Sherlock's gut at the thought of John marrying her.
And then there was Molly Hooper. The one who had counted the most in his hour of need. The one who had always been there, albeit on the sidelines. But Sherlock had always needed her, and for two years, she had been his confidant much like Mycroft, his dear brother, had been. He visited her often during those two years, so much so that he was...rather fond of her now. She wasn't as incompetent as Anderson (but then again not many were below Anderson), that was for sure.
He hadn't expected anything on her side of the spectrum to change. Perhaps she would get herself another cat, or find herself in another unfortunate relationship, but engaged? Sherlock had never foreseen that. And somehow her being betrothed irritated him much like how John's engagement did, if not more. It was all very strange indeed, how everyone seemed to be in a constant state of motion, always changing and progressing in their lives, except for him.
However, it was best not to think of this now. Right now, he had more pressing issues to take care of. Like working on completing his next case, one that he knew wouldn't take too much deducing.
-----Like finding out what was the matter with Molly.
"You've been wringing your hands and sneaking glances at me every five point three seconds the moment I walked into this room, Molly," he said casually, not taking his eyes away from the slide he was observing. "What is it you'd like to talk about?"
