Sherlock and The Woman

The Duel of Adler And Holmes

10. The duel of Adler and Holmes

Molly sat in one of the armchairs in Sherlock's living room, both hands resting on the armrests and her shoulders slumped low. On the small table on her right a cup of steaming tea stood untouched. On the opposite side of the room, in his own armchair, the peculiar detective sat in silence and gazed out at the empty nothingness of the night. The woman could see the wheels in his head turn, but whether it was to find the proper way to explain himself, or if it was concern for the injured woman in his bedroom, Molly wasn't sure. Though she dreaded it was in fact the last.

"You know…" she said at length as the couple entered their thirtieth minute of silence. "…When you asked me to come over, I admit, I sort of thought you had something else in mind."

Sherlock's eyes flashed up to meet hers then and Molly realized it was the first time he mentally registered her presence since her arrival tonight. He had been so pre-occuppied with the medical equipment that he had forgotten about the messenger. It seemed it had taken her own acknowledgment for the man to realize his mannerisms, too. It reminded Molly of when she had caught Sherlock looking sad and bothered as soon as John's back was to him almost three years earlier in the middle of the worst Moriarty circus.

The guilt was evident in the man's face now as he lowered his gaze in search of the right words. "I'm sorry, Molly… I just had to get help quickly."

The young woman smiled joylessly and felt her heart constrict as it seemed to do often when mistreated by the man in question. "And so you called me. Your friend. Chap. Buddy. Reliable Molly. I get it, I do. It's just… sometimes it's not so easy."

She didn't have to say it out loud, they both knew of her old infatuation. It was silly really, Molly knew. They had been friends (if one could truly befriend Sherlock) for ages, and she had been harboring emotions with him for almost as long, though he had never shared her sentiment even the slightest. When he had asked her to help him fake his suicide, she had felt special for the first time. Like he actually cared for her. During the years he was gone, she had met and fallen in love with Tom, a lovely man who had eventually asked her to marry him. The engagement hadn't lasted very long after Sherlock returned, for various reasons. Not the least because Molly had realized just how similar the two men were. She hadn't been moving on, as she first had figured. She wasn't sure if the old infatuation still existed, but the detective remained a vital part of her life nonetheless, in a way that Tom never could. It had been better for both of them when the relationship had ended.

"Molly… I…" Sherlock began as he saw the look in Molly's eyes withdraw even further into herself. Somehow, he could never do the right thing when it came to Ms Molly Hooper and their friendship. She was a dear friend of his, but nothing more. The man had always been aware of her feelings, and had taken advantage of this fact several times to get what he wanted, and indeed knew he could not have faked his death without her help. The man opened his mouth to explain the night's events though without knowing how.

He was interrupted as the bedroom door opened and John walked into the living room. The red liquid smeared all over him, as well as the smell of blood was all Sherlock noticed as he stiffly gazed up at his friend.

"She's stable. For now," the doctor stated as he noticed the terror rise up in his friend like the tide. He then turned to Molly with a tired smile. "Thank you for bringing the equipment so quickly, Molly. I… If she lives she has you to thank for that."

The woman smiled. "And you and your wife, John. Don't forget that… I should go now, since I'm no longer wanted. Needed. I mean 'no longer needed'."

The young woman covered the fact that her face flushed red by her own clumsy comment, by standing hastily from the armchair and avoided the gazes of the other men. Sherlock mimicked her movement as she stood and awkwardly began, "Molly…"