John had given up on reaching Sherlock
earlier that day. If the detective
refused to answer texts or phone calls it would be on his own head if the
situation blew up in his face. He also
figured that they had made it over a month with no problems so one day would
not change much in their situation.
After work John had gone to the pub to grab a bite and a pint. He didn’t have an umbrella and got caught in the downpour, which put him in a bad temper. When he arrived at the Baker Street flat he could hear music pouring out into the hallway. He was grateful that it was actual music but was concerned about the somber tune. He braced himself as he made his way up the stairs. Sherlock may not often let his feelings known in so many words but the music he played definitely reflected what he could not say. Therefore John knew things were not going to be pleasant but hoped that Sherlock would listen to what he needed to say.
He could only see Sherlock’s back upon entering the living room. John shut the door and called the detective’s name. Sherlock stopped playing and put his arms down but didn’t turn around.
“I’ve been trying to reach you all day.”
“I was busy.”
“What did Mycroft want?”
Sherlock shrugged his shoulders. John didn’t like a sulky Sherlock but this mood was different, something was off.
“Sherlock we need to talk about Molly.”
The detective whirled around anger apparent on his face that was set with suspiciously red eyes. “I tried with Molly but it turns out it was a mistake. Now I’ve lost the only pathologist that will work with me on top of everything else.”
John looked at him in shock. Of course leave it to Sherlock to muck things up in one afternoon. “Your pathologist.”
“What?” asked Sherlock in annoyance.
“That’s what you always call her, you’re tying to distance her with your language.” John straightened up his stance and started issuing orders to Sherlock. “Sit down Sherlock. I am going to go change out of these wet clothes and then we are going to have a nice long chat. Hopefully one that will knock some sense into that thick skull of yours.”
Sherlock made no move towards any of the flat’s seating areas so John Hamish Watson decided to use threats.
“Or would you prefer that I call your brother to warn him that it’s a danger night?”
Sherlock sat in response to the threat. The last thing he needed was for Mycroft to tell him ‘I told you so’ and talk about the fallacies of love.
Once dry and dressed the doctor sat down across from his friend. “What did you do?”
Sherlock looked indignant, “What makes you think I did anything? I tried my hardest but I wasn’t good enough for her. Now…its over.”
“Did you ever try telling her how you felt? Or I don’t know…maybe telling her that the two of you were dating?”
“Don’t be ridiculous John of course I told her!” Under his breath he muttered, “I wouldn’t make the same mistake twice.”
“What mistake was that?”
“I may have proposed to her while I was in my mind palace. Out loud I asked if she agreed, which she did, and for a day I thought she knew we were engaged, but apparently she agrees with me when I come out of my mind palace.”
“It cuts down on the insults and time to get you out the door.”
“You knew she did that?”
“I have caught her doing it from time to time.” John was in shock of his friend’s story and wanted to let the information sink into his head but didn’t want Sherlock to shut down so he continued to question him. “Anyway, what did she say when you told her what she had agreed to?”
“But you began to date-“
“I prefer the term court-“
John closed his eyes real tight and held his breath for a moment. After he gently let out the breath he was holding he attempted to question Sherlock again. “When did you tell Molly you had intentions to…court her favor?”
“The day you had her bring me body parts.”
“Oh.” John drew out the sound. “You mean after you had been sulking and abusing everyone around you with your violin for over a week.”
John was seeing how the pieces Sherlock was giving him were falling into place. Give Sherlock a case and he wouldn’t shut up about the details. Trying to get him to relay about his relationships was near impossible.
“What exactly did you say to her? Because she has no idea that you are dating.”
“I said that I would like to have a relationship outside of Bart’s.”
John blinked at his friend. “And…”
“And what?” Sherlock answered grumpily.
“Sherlock…we have a relationship outside of solving crimes.”
“Yes John, you have told me that we are friends on multiple-oh.”
“She thought we were friends.”
“She thinks it’s possible that you see her as a sister.”
“A sister?” Sherlock scoffed, “She knows what my relationship is with Mycroft is like, I wouldn’t spend time with her if I thought of her as a sister. That is absolutely ridiculous.”
“That’s what I said.”
“I gave her gifts. I gave her food. I spent time with her. I kiss her all the time just like your wife said.”
“Hold up, you kiss her.”
“Keep up John!” Sherlock changed his sitting position on the couch to lying on his back.
“Where do you kiss her exactly?”
“Bart’s, Baker Street, her-“
“NO you bloody git. You know I bloody mean on her. Where on Molly are you placing kisses?”
“Cheek and forehead.”
“And you’ve been dating a month?”
“My mother did teach me to be a gentleman.”
John sighed. “So what happened for your relationship to be called off? Start from the top and leave nothing out.” John mimicked the detective.
After Sherlock caught John up to speed the army doctor looked at his friend in awe of the utter mess he caused. He had never been so flabbergasted and gobsmacked before.
“You sent her, with no warning, to meet your parents without you. Then afterwards you basically told her you were giving up on your relationship with her, a relationship which she was completely unaware of.”
“Why do you insist she didn’t know?”
“Because I asked her what it was like to date you and she thought I was daft!”
“You talked to her…when she picked up my experiments this morning.” Sherlock deduced.
Both men sat in silence as they digested the information. Sherlock had returned to sitting and had his hands in a pyramid under his chin.
“John,” he finally spoke, “how do I fix this? I need to fix this.” His voice broke on the last word.
John shook his head. “I don’t know.” After a few minutes he continued. “I don’t think I need to tell you that what you did was not good. You do need to know that you either need to be ready to work on this relationship, starting with asking her to be in a relationship with you, or…”
“Or?” Sherlock asked impatiently.
“You need to let her go if you can’t see this relationship working in the long run. She thinks you are going through a phase because you’re bored and that soon as you can run around again she will be put in the background. Relationships are work and they’re messy.”
Sherlock jumped up and started pacing. “I’m not going through a phase. I went through all the evidence in my mind palace piece by piece. Of course I can see it working, if only Molly would understand. She fairly intelligent I don’t understand why she didn’t see it. I was…I am ready to marry her John! I…” Sherlock took a deep breath and faced his friend. “I love her.”
John’s eyebrows shot up to his hairline. “Love?”
“Yes she and I had a discussion a few days ago about love. Before that I hadn’t let love in the equation because I thought it was unnecessary.”
“You didn’t say love was unnecessary did you?”
Sherlock and Molly were sitting at a café enjoying morning tea on one of Molly’s days off. She was surprised that Sherlock had tagged along. She was working on a paper she was hoping to get published within a few months while he was reading a newspaper because Molly had refused to relinquish her computer.
Sherlock came across an article of yet another jilted lover killing their estranged partner.
“Love,” Sherlock sneered, “why do people insist on its necessity for a lasting relationship?”
Molly looked up from her computer and over glasses. “Well…love does help with relationships.”
Sherlock violently stabbed his finger at the paper on the table. “This tells me otherwise.”
“That is not love.” Molly returned to her computer.
Sherlock considered the woman before him. “Show me otherwise.” He smirked at Molly. He may care for Molly a great deal but their relationship would last because it was based on logic not something flimsy and changeable like love.
Molly stopped her typing again and slid her glasses off her face. “Love is hard to pin down.”
Sherlock smiled wider, “You see. You can’t show me that this is not love. A relationship based on logic is much longer lasting.”
“First off I am not finished. Second off a relationship without real love is cold and doomed in its own way.”
Sherlock’s smug grin faltered.
Molly continued, “Love is difficult to pin down because the English language fails us. I can love a hamburger and love my family but they are different things. In Greek there are different words for different kinds of love. In Japanese they have a word to say ‘I love you’ but it is rarely used so as not to cheapen its meaning.”
“So what is love then?”
“It’s… jumping off a building to protect one’s friends. It’s forgiving a friend after he has hurt you deeply. It is sometimes hard and something you have to choose to do rather than just a feeling.”
“Is it helping save someone’s life even when it could possibly cost them their job?”
“Yes.” The couple was quiet for a couple moments until Molly continued. “Real love is what makes forgiveness possible.” Molly’s smile twisted in a smile. “Logic is a good thing to have too. Too many people get married because they are in love and they don’t think about anything past that.”
After a few moments of silence Molly turned back to her computer as her companion had turned to his phone. He was researching the words she had mentioned. After completing his research he delved into his mind palace. He came to the realization with how Molly explained love that he indeed loved her but he had a lot to learn. He started to tell her this but when he opened his eyes it was to find him on the stoop of 221 Baker Street. He was really going to have to teach Molly some mind palace etiquette.
“She managed to get me home without getting me out of my mind palace, but I was unable to tell her…”
“That you love her?” John finished for his friend.
Sherlock looked through his friend and then jumped to his feet.
“I have to go find Molly!”
“Mate, she’s probably in bed.”
“Wrong purse is still here. She’s out in the rain and it’s my fault.” The detective tried to call her phone but it rang from her purse. Sherlock cursed. He needed to find her quickly.