The Woman Who Counted (A Sherlolly Tale)

Chapter 4

Author's Note: Major edit on 13 December 2017. xxx -OH

 Much to her surprise Molly and Sherlock received no odd passing looks from anyone as they walked through the halls. Some of Molly's co-workers smiled at her, giving her a wave. They didn't pa any attention to Sherlock who walked beside her, hood over his head. Molly looked over at Sherlock and pressed her lips together. He watched his feet as he walked, eyes occasionally glancing at the people they passed.

Her arm locked around his and she felt his arm stiffen. "What are you doing?"

"It looks odd," she said, her voice low as she smiled at him, "me walking next to a hooded figure. I'm pretending I know you."

"You do know me."

She faked a giggle for her co-workers. "I'm pretending to know you in a different way."

"Oh. Yes." He loosened up a bit and used his free hand to lower his hood. Molly had considered his curls to be one of his most defining features. Some of them had been lost due to all of the theatrical blood so as long as they hurried, she hoped that perhaps his less curly hair may help disguise him.

"New boyfriend, Molls?"

Molly turned, Sherlock nearly walking off without her. He gave a fake smile and looked down again. "Oh, um, yes. This is ... James. This is James. James, this is Meena Mani." She immediately regretted making the introduction.

Sherlock took her hand. He recognised the name and when he set eyes on the olive skinned, dark almond eyed woman he knew why. Meena had stood in for Molly on a couple of rare occasions when she was at home sick or with her family in Essex. Meena locked eyes with him, her dark curves of eyebrows furrowing. Both Sherlock and Molly's hearts stopped as they waited for the recognition to set in.

But it didn't. Meena smiled brightly. "Lovely to meet you." Sherlock and Molly let out a collective breath. "Be kind to my Molls. I'll have your head if you don't."

"Meena."

"Oh, Molly, you know I only jest." She paused. "Sort of only jest."

"Well, we've gotta get going. Are you still up for "Monmouth on Sunday?"

"Of course! Until then, have fun. Be safe." Meena winked, Molly blushed. With that sauntered off, disappearing into a nearby lift.

Molly took Sherlock's arm again and they continued walking. "That was close."

He lifted his hood once again. "Too close."

The air was heavy with an unnerving silence. Not a single word had been shared in the cab. Sherlock stared out the window while she stared at her hands, folded together in her lap. They were minutes from her flat when a ringing frightened her out of her thoughts. Sherlock's head snapped over at her and he raised his brows.

Molly looked at the caller ID, heart stopping for a millisecond. She glanced at Sherlock, her lips pressed tightly together. She asked the question that was on both of their minds with just a furrow of her brows. Sherlock simply nodded, watching as she clicked 'accept' and lifted her phone to her ear.

"Hello?"

"Molly."

She could already feel the stinging in her eyes. "Hey, John. Listen to me-"

"Where is he?" She bit her lip as she saw Sherlock look down, letting out a silent sigh. He could likely hear John despite not having him on speaker.

"John, I don't, um..." She wiped a tear from her cheek. There was no stopping now. "...know how to say this." Her breath came out in a shaky sigh.

"No." She could practically see him, head shaking, eyes rubbed raw and blinking through his disbelief. "God, Molly. No.... Don't say it. Don't."

She didn't even bother wiping the tears away now. They fell fast and hot against her skin despite knowing the truth. "He's gone."

The line went silent before a beeping sent her spiralling back to reality. She shut off her phone and looked over at the man beside her. Sherlock was alive. He was alive and sitting next to her. But no one could ever know. Not even John Watson.

Sherlock gave a single nod, silently thanking her before looking out the window again. Molly's lips parted but quickly closed again. She was sure he was thinking and didn't want to hinder his thoughts.

Molly had to think too. Sherlock was staying with her and the thought absolutely terrified her. She knew it was only until it was safe for him to go out and tear down Moriarty's thick criminal web, but the thought of sharing her flat with him made her stomach flop about. With each passing moment she became increasingly aware of the last time she had tidied up.

The cab rolled to a stop in front of her flat and she gave the cabbie his due and a tip before leading Sherlock into the building. Immediately upon stepping in, his eyes whirred around the sitting room, surely spitting out deductions in his head. Usually Molly loved hearing his deductions. She always found gobsmacked by his brilliance, even he was being rather unkind. This time, however, she thanked God for his quiet. After all they had both been through that day she didn't think she could handle being tossed about by Sherlock Holmes because of her bright yet scruffy little flat.

Molly shucked off her coat and hung it over the rack next to the front door. "The spare's upstairs."

"Mm, no."

"Sorry?"

His hoodie came off and made its way to the coat rack, hanging next to hers. "The spare won't do."

"Oh." There didn't seem to be another option, but Molly looked about, eyes stopping on the sofa. "Well, I doubt you'd be any more comfortable on the-"

"Your bedroom should do just fine."

"Oh, well I-" Before she could finish her sentence he had disappeared into the loo. Molly sighed to herself. "Right."

By the time his shower ended Molly had her pyjamas in hand, ready to go in for her own. He walked out shirtless, but with his trousers still on. Molly looked away, blushing as she tried to scoot passed him; however he stopped her before she got into the doorway.

"I'm not stealing your bedroom from you," he said, "but I am in need of the space. You're welcome to share it with me. You're small enough to not make much of a difference in the space."

Her heart swelled and she could have sworn it dropped an inch or two. As much as she wanted to say yes she couldn't help but feel embarrassed. Sherlock did a good job at remaining stoic, but Molly could see right through his facade. She saw the vulnerability he had earned from the day and it hurt her to see him like that.

So she shook her head. "No, it's fine. Really. You take it." She gave him the tiniest of smiles and closed the door behind her before he could argue with her.