part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4.1 part 4.2 part 5 part 6 part 7
Mycroft didn’t even look up from his work as Sherlock burst through the doors of his office. He was quite used to his brother’s antics and had no intention of giving them any attention. In his experience, Mycroft found it best to let his brother rant and pace about; he would wear himself out eventually.
“Are you even listening to me?”
The sound of Sherlock’s voice finally broke through the mind barrier Mycroft had put up to ignore the mindless babble.
“You were talking about your newest case involving the assistance of Dr. Hooper,” the elder Holmes brother replied blandly.
He most definitely had not been listening, but Sherlock rarely spoke about anything but his work, so it was the safest answer. The look on the detective’s face, a cross between affronted and exasperated, made Mycroft realize that perhaps his brother had been discussing a different topic. What else could he possibly have been talking about?
“I was discussing how I intend to proceed with the situation with Molly.”
Mycroft raised an eyebrow at the sound of Sherlock referring to Dr. Hooper by her first name. His brother did not use first names. It was too casual, too personal. Hell, he rarely even remembered first names. The only people Sherlock ever referred to by given name were the Watsons. For the first time since Sherlock had stormed into the office, Mycroft observed his brother. The only word that could describe his countenance was frenzied. Mycroft had never seen the younger Holmes in such a state.
His hair was disheveled, as though he had been running his hands through it in frustration. His normally pristine clothes were rumpled, as though he had been so preoccupied he hadn’t put any thought into his attire. There were lines and creases around his eyes, as though he had not slept in quite some time. In short, something was weighing on his mind, and the great Sherlock Holmes did not know how to deal with it.
“What, dear brother, seems to be the problem?” he asked, trying not to sound too interested.
“With the end of our six month ‘courtship’ fast approaching, I have been trying to determine the best way for us to the handle our situation moving forward,” Sherlock replied in huff.
“There is no need to worry about how Dr. Hooper will fare,” responded the elder Holmes. “She is a smart woman. She will be able to make it in the world without the help of the great Sherlock Holmes.”
Sherlock blinked.
“I didn’t…That’s not…I know she’ll be fine. I just…”
Mycroft’s raised eyebrow made Sherlock realize how absolutely absurd all this was sounding.
“Sherlock, why are you worrying yourself over something so trivial? Isn’t this exactly what you wanted? To get this whole ordeal over with and walk away?” Mycroft queried, standing from his desk to face his brother.
“My only concern is that Dr. Hooper will find it difficult to work with me now that we’ve been forced to spend all this time together. I don’t want to have to deal with meeting a new pathologist and having to train them on the proper way to run an investigation,” Sherlock replied unconvincingly.
The younger Holmes shifted uneasily in discomfort. It was very rare for him to find himself so unsure and rarer still for him to show it externally. This was uncharted territory for him, and he hated uncharted territory.
“My dear brother, if I didn’t know any better, I would think that you are concerned about the feelings of another person.” The tone in which Mycroft had spoken was not teasing but rather cautionary. “We aren’t like normal people Sherlock. We do not engage in feelings or affection or love. We are above all that.”
“It can get rather lonely living like this,” the detective responded grimly, almost too quietly to hear.
There was note of sadness that Mycroft had never seen in his brother before. It would be imperceptible to the untrained eye, but to a Holmes, it was clear as day. Whatever the problem was, it was eating Sherlock up alive.
“And what is your plan then? Go to Dr. Hooper, tell her you have feelings for her, then ride off into the sunset with your love, solving crimes and taking down bad guys together?”
The look of disdain on Mycroft’s face as he spat out the word “feelings” made clear how he felt about the matter.
“You’re right. There is nothing further to pursue with Dr. Hooper. I will inform her that she is now free of her obligations,” Sherlock stated matter-of-factly.
The detective gave a curt nod and whirled out of the room as dramatically as he had entered. Mycroft blinked at the spot his brother had just occupied. He wasn’t quite sure how this ordeal would play out, but he was sure the great Sherlock Holmes was not at all equipped to handle it.
~~~~~
Molly nearly jumped at the sound of Sherlock bursting into her office. She guessed that meant he was still going to join her in the lab even after their forced courtship had ended. She wouldn’t admit it to anyone, including herself, but a part of her was afraid the detective would have been so put off by their six months of “dating” that he decided never to work with her again. She didn’t want to think about the pit of sadness that idea had put in her stomach. Sherlock was back, and they would go right back to their status quo. Everything would be right with the world.
“Sherlock, is there something I can help you with?” She tried hard not to sound too eager.
“No, Dr. Hooper. I just came by to let you know I have spoken to my brother, and we are officially off the proverbial hook. We are now free to continue our work without the threat of marriage looming over us,” Sherlock said, trying to sound as though he was thrilled with the idea.
He gave her a tight smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. If she didn’t know any better, Molly would think there was a hint of sadness to them. But she did know better. She knew Sherlock Holmes. And she knew there was no way he would be sad about the fact that the two of them were going to put aside the silly notion of courtship and pick back up right where they left off; him breezing in and out of the lab and her life at his leisure, demanding her attention just to flit away again after getting what he needed from her.
“Everything as we wanted it to be. You’ll be free of our silly pursuits and can focus on what really matters, the work,” she said with a nod. “I guess I will be seeing you around the lab then. I have somewhere to be right now. You know where everything is.”
She left the lab in a hurry, hoping he didn’t see her disappointment. Had she stayed, she would’ve seen the whirlpool emotions swirling on Sherlock’s face. He didn’t know what he wanted, but it wasn’t this. He had grown so accustomed to Molly. She was more to him than just a lab assistant; she was someone he wanted, needed, in his life, and he had no clue how to ensure he didn’t lose her.
~~~~~
Sherlock huffed. How was he supposed to concentrate with Molly and Tom having such a loud conversation in his workspace? It had been six months since he and Molly had gone back to their regularly scheduled work arrangement, and everything was all wrong. Sure, she was always there when he needed her assistance and always gave him excellent results, but something was different. She didn’t talk to him about anything but the work. There were no stories of previous cases that she’d worked. There were no discussions about new scientific journals that she’d read. There were no attempts to ask about how he was doing. She was strictly business.
As if that weren’t bad enough, the pathologist had also hired a new lab technician, Tom, on whom she was focusing all her attention. Whenever this new man was working, Molly barely even looked Sherlock’s way. She said it was because she wanted to make sure his onboarding went as smoothly as possible, but any scientist worth their salt should know how to work all the equipment and mix all the reagents and run all the tests. Training a new staff member should not take precedence over solving crimes. Molly really needed to sort out her priorities properly.
These feelings of resentment were purely professional, of course. Sherlock was simply annoyed that the training of this new scientist was hindering the pursuit of justice. It had nothing to do with the fact that Molly seemed to laugh too loud at Tom’s inane jokes or the fact that she stood far too close to him when showing him how to work the machines in the lab or the fact that he caught her gaze lingering on him for far longer than was proper. None of this mattered to the great consulting detective. He was only bothered by the fact that he couldn’t have Molly all to himself, purely for science and justice, of course.
“Do keep it down over there. Some of us actually have important work to do,” he called over to the two of them with an eyeroll.
Molly shot Sherlock a look of annoyance.
“You should go ahead and take your break, Tom,” she told him quietly with a pat on his arm. She waited until he was out of earshot to continue. “I am training a new lab technician. That is far more important that whatever it is you’re doing, Sherlock. Or have you forgotten that Tom actually works here and you are here as a favor to Scotland Yard?”
There was a harsh edge to her voice that seemed to be present whenever Molly spoke to him recently. This wasn’t what he wanted. He wanted... He wanted her laughter. He wanted her smiles. He wanted her warmth. He wanted her time. He wanted her attention. But if he couldn’t have that, he would settle for her ire.
“Perhaps if you had hired a more proficient scientist you wouldn’t have to spend so much time training him, or perhaps if you were a better scientist yourself, Scotland Yard wouldn’t need me to solve their cases for them,” he blurted out without thinking.
He regretted the words as soon as they left his mouth. He could see the hurt in her eyes and knew he had certainly crossed the line.
“You and I have had disagreements before, but I always thought you at least respected me. I have been nothing but accommodating to you. I have run every test, provided every piece of equipment, reviewed every result that has been asked of me. I have put my life on hold for you and dedicated my days off to you and your work. I have done it all because I respect you and the work you do. I had hoped that feeling was mutual. However, it is clear now that I was quite naïve. Clearly the great Sherlock Holmes does not have any feelings whatsoever, not even basic respect. He’s just a robot who gets what he wants and never thinks twice about the path of destruction he leaves in his wake,” she ranted hardly stopping for a breath.
“Molly, I…” Sherlock fumbled for something to say, some way to express how much he did, in fact, respect the pathologist standing before him.
“Doctor Hooper,” she seethed through gritted teeth. “I have let you stomp around this place with impunity for far too long. I have allowed your behavior because I always felt that we were working toward a greater good. It has become clear that you do not see any greater good other than yourself. You don’t do what you do to benefit anyone but yourself and your ego. I do not have time to babysit a petulant child. I do not have room in my lab or in my life for someone as selfish and self-absorbed as you. You are going to apologize to me and Tom for your behavior today, and then you are going to leave. You will only come here on official police business during the times I am not here. You will log your scientific requests on the list like every other person who needs my help. I will continue as I always have and provide my very best work. You will be notified by the office when your results are available like everybody else. This is how our little arrangement will work from here on out. Do you understand?”
Molly’s eyes flashed with anger. Her chest heaved as she struggled to keep her temper at bay. Her jaw was clenched so tightly, Sherlock could nearly feel the grinding of teeth himself. He had never seen her this way. He had crossed many lines in the past; that was, after all, his specialty. However, she had always taken it in stride. She would tell him how he had messed up, tell him how she would not tolerate it, and only proceed with helping him if he apologized and acknowledged his mistake. She had never let his actions affect her so emotionally before. Sherlock was mortified at what he had wrought, but a small part of him was pleased that he could elicit such a passionate response. He knew, however, that there was no coming back from this one. Molly was dead set on forever altering their arrangement, and he had nobody to blame but himself.
“I understand,” he replied. “I apologize for me behavior today. I will find Tom and offer my sincere apologies as well. Good day, Dr. Hooper.”
He gave a small nod and he swept out of the lab, making sure his face didn’t betray what he was feeling until his back was to Molly. How could he have been so stupid? This was never going to work. While he had been pleased that he and Molly were able to work together again after their farce of a courtship, he knew deep down that it would never be like it was before. All of those complicated emotions were bound to bubble up and erupt. Rather than lava laying waste to an unsuspecting city, his vitriol had destroyed whatever lingering hope Sherlock’s subconscious had been holding to that he and Molly could build something resembling a relationship. Now, he was certain he would never see her again.
Once she was sure Sherlock was gone from her lab, Molly let the fury drop from her face, leaving only the hurt and sorrow.
~~~~~
Molly threw her bag and coat onto her chair as soon as she shut the door to her flat. She had been trying so hard to make sure she and Sherlock were okay after their “courtship” ended. She had kept things professional, ensured that nothing but the work mattered. She was careful to keep her emotions in check and pushed down any feelings that threatened to bubble up to the surface, yet Sherlock still managed to find a way to make things difficult.
The pathologist had finally reached her breaking point. She had been so wracked with sadness over the idea of never seeing Sherlock again, she never even considered the idea that things would devolve into the volcanic eruption that was today. Never in a million years would she have imagined that she would ban Sherlock from the lab in any capacity. It was as if her worst nightmare was coming to fruition. She knew she would regret that decision, but, for now, it was the only way to protect her heart. It would hurt, maybe forever, but most likely only for a very long time. Eventually, Molly Hooper would be just fine. Until then, she had a pint of ice cream and a little cat to help heal her heart.
