7k?! Goddamn! Thank you everybody- so so much! This is my gift to you, a nice and sappy Jealous!Lock recommended by reggiegurl66 ! Once again, thanks you so much and enjoy!
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Molly Hooper waited. She sat alone in a fancy restaurant in a fancy dress, her chin resting on her hand and fingers lightly tapping the soft white tablecloth of the table. Molly wished that she could leave, avoid the wandering, judging eyes of strangers but she kept herself glued to her chair.
A few more minutes.
Still, despite Molly reassuring herself her date was just late, she couldn't help but cast frantic glances at the clock mounted to the wall. She kept bringing herself back to her previous conversation before she had left for this monstrous date.
Molly had changed in the locker rooms at the morgue, her work making her run a bit late. Sherlock was there too, though he hadn't uttered a single word to Molly besides mumbling to himself. That is, until she had come back from changing.
"Where are you going?" Molly looked up from packing her things, her eyebrows raised.
"On a date, Sherlock," she replied, her eyes falling to the floor. She knew changing before Sherlock had left would be a bad decision. He scrunched up his nose.
"You? On a date? Like, with a man?"
Annoyance creased Molly's face, "yes, Sherlock. What else would I be going on a date with?" Sherlock opened his mouth at Molly's irritated tone but closed it, his eyebrows furrowing.
Molly sighed and shook her head, brushing past Sherlock and tightly clutching her bag to her chest, leaving without saying goodbye.
"Are you ready to order, ma'am?" A voice snapped Molly out of her thoughts and she blinked, looking up at the waitress.
"No, a few minutes though," Molly said, trying to force down the embarrassment that rose in her throat like bile. The waitress nodded, the pity clear in her eyes and Molly big back a sharp retort. She sighed as the waitress left, casting a forlorn glance at the exit.
Maybe I should leave, she thought, this obviously isn't turning out as I'd hoped. Molly leaned down to grab her bag when a hand suddenly tapped her shoulder.
"Uh... Molly?" The pathologist looked up, blinking in surprise. Relief spread through her and Molly stood, facing her date.
"Jordan!"
The handsome man smiled weakly, running a hand over his head. "I am so sorry, Molly. I forgot to reset my clocks after the storm yesterday and then my car wouldn't start and a bunch of things happened."
Molly returned the smile and hugged Jordan, who she could tell gave a small sigh of relief.
"Really you're okay. I'm just glad you're here." He grinned and pulled out Molly's chair for her, sitting down opposite of her. The pathologist looked around, seeing the other people in the restaurant staring at Jordan and Molly grinned.
Jordan quickly scanned the menu, his dark eyes flicking around the pages. He set it down and flashed a charming smile at Molly, apparently completely oblivious to the stares cast his way.
"So," he said, "shall we order some wine?"
/
It was a nice dinner, Molly found herself easily able to forgive Jordan of his lateness. At the end, despite Molly's insistence, he paid for dinner and the two walked along the quiet London streets.
Molly smiled, her heels clacking on the cobblestone pavement. Her arm was looped through Jordan's, who was watching the starry sky above them.
"So," Molly heard herself say, "you said you're working in an office, right?"
Jordan nodded, "not the most interesting, but it's a living. I'm applying for police training soon, though."
"Really?" Molly's blinked in surprised, "that's great! Good luck."
A smile lit up Jordan's face and he nodded vigorously, "I've been studying like crazy. I volunteer now but I don't do anything big, you know?"
"Yeah," Molly replied, "oh! Look at how dark it's gotten." Jordan tilted his face up to the sky, his eyes scanning the stars. Molly followed his gaze, her eyes wide. She hadn't even noticed the moon begin to poke from behind straggly clouds.
Jordan looked down at his watch, "it's 8:30, now." Molly nodded, then blinked. His watch was correct? She quickly snuck a peek at her phone and narrowed her eyes. His watch was correct.
Molly looked at Jordan with an eyebrow raised, "but I thought you'd said-"
At the moment a tall figure bumped Molly's shoulder, pushing forward aggressively. The pathologist whirled around, her eyes narrowed.
"Excuse you- Sherlock?" The figure turned around, only to reveal a familiar trench coat and a mass of tangled curls. The detective blinked in surprise.
"Molly?"
"What are you doing out here?"
"I might ask you the same."
Molly nodded her head towards Jordan, "I already told you, Sherlock. I'm on a date." Sherlock's eyes flicked towards the handsome man besides Molly, his gaze narrowing as Jordan gave him a small smile and a wave The pathologist suddenly felt a sick feeling in her stomach. Of all the people she had to bump into on a date...
With one long stride Sherlock faced Jordan, his narrowed eyes scanning Molly's date. She froze as Jordan began to take a wary step back, only to have Sherlock catch his wrist.
The detective gave a small sniff to Jordan's wrist, a frown creasing his mouth. Jordan's face screwed up and he took a large step back.
"Oi, what's your problem, mate?" Jordan said, his eyebrows knotted together.
Sherlock scoffed and turned to Molly, whose fists had balled up. "Look at him, Molly. The collar of his coat is screwed up and one pant leg is higher than the other."
"So?" The pathologist seethed, but she already had a feeling she knew where this was going.
"So? The traces of dried concrete on his shoes, the same concrete used for reconstruction over down in Tottenham. But look at the inside of his right cuff, this man obviously lives down in Bexley. Now why would he go down from Bexley all the way to Tottenham just to get some mud on his shoes if not to, I don't know, see another women?"
Anger and shock creased Jordan's face, "he's crazy is what he is," he practically shouted while Molly's face had drained of all color, "what does going from Bexley to Tottenham have to do with anything! I was picking up a-"
"You smell of women's perfume and it's definitely not Molly's, mate." Jordan froze, his jaw clenching and eyes wide. Molly looked at her date with sad eyes. Jordan returned the glance and open his mouth, though Molly just shook her head.
"Bye, Jordan," she said quietly. She didn't need to hear any more excuses only to have Sherlock shoot them down. The pathologist nudged past Sherlock, Jordan watching with his mouth open though he didn't bother to chase after her. Sherlock smirked at Jordan, spinning around following Molly.
Molly walked with her head down and arms crossed tightly against her chest, Sherlock taking long strides to catch up. When he did walk by her side, however, the pathologist made no move to acknowledge his presence.
Sherlock walked by her a bit, sending glances at Molly as if waiting for her to speak. When Sherlock decided it looked like this wouldn't be the case he sniffed.
"I believe a 'thank you' is necessary," he said, watching Molly from the corner of his eye. The pathologist stopped in her tracks, Sherlock pausing and turning to her with an eyebrow raised.
"Mo-"
"A thank you?" Molly seethed. When Sherlock turned around he noticed she was quivering slightly. He frowned.
"You're cold."
Molly's gaze turned up to him as the detective took a step forward, making him freeze at her burning glare.
"A thank you!" Molly let out a frustrated growl, stomping her foot. "Why do you do that? Always! Always! I get it- he was a cheater. But if you think I need your help, Sherlock Holmes, you'd be sorely wrong!"
Sherlock stared at Molly, his mouth slightly open and eyes wide. At a loss for words, he repeated:
"You're cold."
Molly huffed, tucking her chin to her chest. "You can't do that. Not every time. I don't even know why-"
"You're cold-"
"Just let me do my own thing. Let me figure it out. Let me deal. You think you're so helpful but you just can't-"
"You're cold-"
"Stop saying that!" Molly stomped her foot on the ground, "it's not like you even care, anyway. You're just glad to show off-"
With one long stride Sherlock caught up to Molly, his eyes narrowed. He quickly shrugged off his coat and pulled it around Molly's shoulders, wrapping her in a tight hug from behind. Molly tensed, frozen.
"You're cold," Sherlock whispered, his voice breaking ever so slightly as he rested his chin on the top of Molly's head. "I'm sorry, I just... nobody is good enough for you."
The pathologist turned around, Sherlock's hands falling to her waist and his forehead resting on hers.. Molly was silent, her breath white as it spilled from her lips.
"Not even you?" She whispered, her dark eyes wet as they roamed around the detective's face. Sherlock was quiet for a moment, trying to slow down the rapid thumping of his heart. This feeling, so familiar. From every time Molly was around another man, it was there. This feeling- this was why Sherlock was the way he was around the pathologist. A small smile danced on his lips.
"I think that's up for you to decide," Sherlock whispered back. A grin tugged at the corners of Molly's lips as she brought her hands the back of Sherlock's neck and stood on her tippy-toes, slowly pressing her lips onto the detectives.
Sherlock quickly obliged, pulling Molly closer to him as his mouth rocked against hers like there was a rhythm only they knew. When Molly pulled back both her and Sherlock were slightly out of breath.
"Is this what you want," Sherlock whispered breathlessly, unable to take his eyes from Molly's. She bit her lip before answering.
"You, Sherlock," Molly answered, her lips hovering over the detective's, "you are what I want."
Sherlock gave Molly a soft kiss, smiling as he whispered, "that's all you had to say."