Mr Holmes and Miss Hooper - a Sherlolly Story

Chapter 11

Sherlock glanced at the clock and saw he had another 15 minutes of break left, so he set off toward the staff room in search of a change of shirt. He thought back over his conversation with Loo and wanted nothing more than to run to Molly and tell her everything. But he couldn't. He knew now that Molly was avoiding him for a reason and he didn't want to make the situation any worse by pushing himself onto her even more. He confidently knew he had feelings for Molly (a shocking revelation but one he was glad he had come to), but he had no idea how to tell her that. How is a man who is supposedly devoid of all emotion to tell a woman that he loves her? ... Maybe loves her ... possibly loves her? He shook his head and ran a hand through his hair, this sentiment thing was rather difficult. He took a peek into her classroom as he passed it. She was sitting at her desk, head buried in a book, one hand twirling the long tresses of her cinnamon hair around her fingers. He sighed ... definitely loved her.

But then came the issue of whether she felt the same? Does this avoidance mean that she does and is just scared of it as Loo suggested? Or does it mean that she regrets the kiss they shared because it truly was the result of too much wine? What if she thought he didn't feel the same way so was distancing herself to avoid getting hurt? So many questions ran through his mind that he didn't know which to tackle first. He shook himself out of it when he nearly walked straight into the staff room door.

He reached his cubby and sorted through his neatly folded piles and stacks until he found his spare shirts - something he kept a small abundance of at the school ever since that time he'd had to borrow a (truly despicable) sweater from Mike Stamford after an experiment gone awry. He grabbed a deep purple one and prepared himself to remove his now wet and mascara stained white one. He considered just throwing it away but knew it was salvageable and that Mrs Hudson would scold him for tossing a perfectly good shirt. He had just pushed his arms through the sleeves of the clean shirt and was in the process of folding the other when the door opened.

Molly Hooper stood frozen, trapped in time as Sherlock Holmes stood before her, shirt open and busying himself with folding a different shirt in his hands. Although she couldn't deny the white brought out the blue in his eyes, the dark colour against his pale skin had Molly's mind very quickly deeming it 'the purple shirt of sex'. She would mentally berate herself for that one later. She knew she should have coughed or turned or made her presence known somehow but all she could do was stand and stare. Gobsmacked that the man she had most definitely fallen for and kissed not so long back was baring skin before her, albeit unknowingly.

Smirking, Sherlock took his time folding and preening before turning to her, he knew she was there of course. He was just enjoying the effect he was having on her, and he most definitely did not leave his shirt unbuttoned on purpose before turning to acknowledge her.

"Oh, Molly, hi!" He sounded awfully cheery.

"Hi, Sherlock." She sounded weary. He stepped closer.

"I haven't seen you in a while, how have you-"

"What happened to your shirt?" She cut him off.

"Oh, well, just a comforting a crying student situation in the last class that's all."

She thought for a moment, looking as hard as she could at his face so her gaze didn't fall to his open shirt. He had started to slowly do up the buttons and it took everything in her not to stare down and appreciate every single inch of uncovered skin before it was hidden from her by his deft fingers.

"Loo is in your pre-break class today, did she know them?"

"Well, yes I suppose one could argue she does."

"Who was it?"

"Now, Molly, I'm not sure I can tell you that."

"Oh, come on. I have the same class before lunch. At least then I'll know if there's anyone I need to look out for."

He looked up as he finished buttoning the collar of his shirt. Suddenly it was easier for Molly to breathe again. Sherlock tried to school his expression but the look in his eyes made her gasp.

"Oh God, it was Loo wasn't it?"

The silence was all she needed as an answer, she fumbled with her pockets searching for her mobile but stopped when Sherlock placed his hand on hers, suddenly so much closer than he was before.

"Molls, please don't. She's fine, she just wanted to talk."

Molly shot him a glare that quickly softened when she saw the warmth in Sherlock's eyes. She curled her hand around his without even thinking and took him to the sofa in the middle of the staff room.

"So, she's okay?"

"Yes."

A moment of silence passed.

"She's upset because of me, isn't she?" Sherlock opened his mouth to protest but Molly stopped him with a squeeze to his hand. "She knows about what happened between us and now she's worried I'm going to push you away like all the other good things in my life and isolate myself, right?"

Sherlock blinked, sighed, then nodded.

"And that's exactly what I've been doing."

Molly took her hand from his to bury her face within them and Sherlock immediately missed the contact. He shuffled closer to her and placed an arm around her shoulders, pulling her softly into him as she composed herself. Molly sighed as she just let it all out to her friend.

"She's seen me do it so many times. She knew I was hiding from you before I did. I'm so sorry, Sherlock, I was just so scared. And I suppose after everything I thought you might think I was just some little tramp trying to get you in bed so she can claim to have slept with Sherlock Holmes, and I'm just so-"

"Molly, stop." Sherlock's demand was delivered in a tone that was somehow both harsh and soft. "I do not think that at all."

She looked up at him and he used his free hand to grasp onto hers, squeezing her shoulder with the other. Molly watched as his eyes searched her features.

"But I do think that you have been avoiding me, and I would really like that to end. I am fully aware of what happened between us and I would ultimately like for it to happen again if you'd be willing." Molly's eyes widened. "It's only been three days without your close presence in my life and I find I have missed you. Quite immensely actually, which is a little embarrassing to admit." He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "Now, I'm going to go back to my classroom and leave you with the opportunity to control what happens next. If you show up at my door for lunch so that we can go and eat together, you are promising me that you won't avoid me again. If you do not, well then, I guess that would be a way of saying you want nothing more to happen between us, if that is what you so wish."

He stood and bent down to her level, Molly felt his whisper against her skin.

"Until then, Molly Hooper."

He planted a kiss somewhere between her cheek and her mouth before turning and leaving the room. Molly felt utterly speechless. That purple shirt and those dress trousers did nothing for her internal conflict.

"Damn you, Sherlock Holmes."