Why Sherlock?

The Great Game {5}

"Oh, sorry. I didn’t..."

"Jim! Hi!" Molly says, not expecting him to come. Jim makes as if to leave the room but Molly stops him. "Come in! Come in!"

Sherlock looks over at her briefly, running his eyes down her body and apparently making an instant deduction, then looks back into the microscope. Molly makes introductions as Jim closes the door and walks over to her.

"Jim, this is Sherlock Holmes."

"Ah!" Jim says excitedly. John turns towards them, and Molly looks at him blankly. She smiles apologetically. "And, uh... sorry. I'm still not familiar with your names."

"John Watson. Hi. That's (Y/n)." He points over to me.

"Hi." His eyes are locked on Sherlock’s back as he gazes at him admiringly. "So you’re Sherlock Holmes. Molly’s told me all about you. You on one of your cases?" He walks closer to Sherlock, forcing John to step out of his way, stepping to the left of me in between our chairs. He gives me a cute smile and turns back to Sherlock. I look him up and down as he's too preoccupied with him.

"Jim works in I.T. upstairs. That’s how we met. Office romance." She and Jim giggle cutely. Sherlock glances briefly at Jim before returning to look into the microscope.

"Gay." Sherlock whispers. He's not wrong.

Molly’s smile fades. "Sorry, what?"

Sherlock raises his head as he realizes what he said. "Nothing." He smiles round falsely at Jim. "Um, hey."

Jim was smiling admiringly at him. "Hey." Lowering his hand, he knocks a metal dish off the edge of the table and scrambles to pick it up. "Sorry! Sorry!"

John turns away, face-palming, while Sherlock looks irritated. Jim puts the dish back on the table and then scratches his arm as he wanders back towards Molly. I stifle a laugh, covering my mouth.

"Well, I’d better be off. I’ll see you at The Fox, ’bout six-ish?"

"Yeah!" Molly replies, a little unsure from Sherlock's outburst earlier. He stops beside her, putting a hand on her back, and looks back towards Sherlock.

"Bye." He says, still laughing nervously.

"Bye." Molly whispers with a small smile on her face.

"It was nice to meet you." He smiles at Sherlock. Sherlock doesn’t respond, continuing to look into his microscope while Jim gazes wistfully at him. John breaks the embarrassing silence.

"You too."

Jim blinks at him, looking awkward, then turns and leaves the room. Molly waits until the door closes then turns to Sherlock.

"What d’you mean, gay? We’re together."

Sherlock looks across to her. "And domestic bliss must suit you, Molly. You’ve put on three pounds since I last saw you."

"Two and a half." She says, disappointment dripping in her voice.
      
"Nuh, three." He simply replies with the tilt of his head.

"Sherlock...." I warn him.

Molly looks angry now. "He’s not gay. Why d’you have to spoil...? He’s not."

Sherlock snorted. "With that level of personal grooming?"

"Because he puts a bit of product in his hair? I put product in my hair." John tried to defend her.

"You wash your hair. There’s a difference. No, no. Tinted eyelashes, clear signs of taurine cream around the frown lines. Those tired clubber’s eyes. Then there’s his underwear."