So, this is a short-ish one shot for my dear friend, Icebabe59...who, like myself, recently got her hair cut. She sent me this prompt, and I said OF COURSE! Absolutely fluffy Sherlolly fic, and I hope you all enjoy it!
I do not own anything. Not the BBC, Not Sherlock Holmes, Not Molly Hooper...not the story idea. Lol.
A Bit Off, and Over the Top
She'd been wanting a change for quite some time. Not that she hated her hair, but there comes a time in a woman's life where having a long ponytail just gets a bit...boring. So, having browsed through photo after photo, and searching for different styles that would work best with her features, Molly Hooper had finally decided it was time to change.
"So, what are your plans for the weekend, Molly?" John asked from across the lab. She had just been turning off the last of the lights, hurrying to catch up with the detective duo as they walked to the door.
"Oh, not too much. Might borrow your wife tomorrow, I want to go get my hair cut, and she seems to have the best hairdresser in London. So, I hope you don't mind if I steal her away." She threw a wink his way, to which John chuckled in response. Sherlock had stopped in his tracks, his gaze casting back over his shoulder.
"Why do women care so much about trivial things like cutting their hair? It's not like doing so changes the rest of your appearance." John gave the detective a harsh look, before turning to gauge Molly's reaction. Years before, it would have been a look of hurt, like a wounded kitten. However, she simply wore a knowing grin on her face.
"Well, Sherlock, sometimes we like change. I've had the same hair style for the past ten years, and I'd like to do something a little different." Molly walked past them, turning around only long enough to flash the two of them a bright smile. John chuckled, calling out a farewell to her, before he began walking as well. However, when Sherlock didn't move alongside him, the doctor stopped.
"She can't cut her hair. She just can't," he muttered, his tone almost a bit forlorn. The tall detective strode quickly down the hall, forcing John to race after him, a confused expression etched on his face.
Molly sat in the front window area of the salon, waiting for her name to be called. Mary sat beside her, flipping casually through a magazine. She stopped on a page, and turned it to show Molly.
"Maybe I should get my hair cut...something like this?" Molly glanced over to see an insane style, the woman in the photograph having half her head shaved clean of any hair, the other half flared out in a frizzed and crimped winglike style. She laughed, before shaking her head.
"I don't think John would enjoy his wife having shorter hair than he does." The two women giggled, before they were interrupted by one of the women in the back of the building.
"Molly 'ooper? You're next!" The thick accent of the hairdresser called out, and Mary gave her a gentle push. She nodded her head encouragingly, before glancing down at her magazine once more. As Molly walked back, she met the gaze of the tall woman who would be giving her a new style. Her eyes were very pretty, despite being surrounded by hideous amounts of eye liner and shadow. Her hair, long and course looking, but curled neatly into tight ringlets. Molly smiled at her, before letting the woman lead her to a chair.
"What ya want done, Missy?" the woman asked, her catty tone coming out in a slightly nasal voice. Molly sighed, looking at herself in the mirror.
"I'd really like to get my hair cut, quite a lot of it actually. Maybe to my shoulders? Mmm, maybe even a bit shorter. I just want it to be different, you know?" She glanced up to the lady's face through the reflection of the mirror, smiling at her nervously. The hairdresser pursed her lips, looking over Molly's long hair, before she ran a hand through it.
"Oh, I dunno, love. Ya sure ya want t' chop it all? Ya got lots of pretty hair. Plus, ya chop it that short, it'll make ya face look fat." The woman shrugged her shoulders, ending her response. Molly's mouth dropped open a bit, her head dropping a bit in disappointment. She bit her lip to try and prevent the tears from rolling down her cheeks. With a slight nod of her head, she stood up.
"O-oh. Thank you for being so honest. Um...I...I have to go." She quickly made her way around the woman, and out toward where Mary was sitting. Her friend looked up, and immediately the concern washed to her features. She stood, opening her arms to Molly, who's tears had begun to fall on her soft cheeks.
"What happened?" She could only make out parts and pieces of the conversation, as Molly hiccuped and sobbed into her shoulder. Mary's glance flew to the back, searching for the...witch who had said such terrible things to her friend. Upon seeing the hairdresser in question, her scowl only deepened.
"You wait here, I'll handle this." Before Molly could argue, she was already marching to the back, where the woman in question was retreating out the back. However, Mary caught hold of her arm, and whipped her around.
"I don't even want to hear you try to explain the strange wig or the ugly makeup. I just want to know, why? Why did you make her cry like that? You can't just let her be happy, can you? What's wrong with you?" She scolded the tall woman...who sighed in shame, before pulling the wig off slowly, revealing short and manic waves of dark hair.
"She can't cut her hair, Mary. I... I don't want her to cut her hair," Sherlock said quietly, his face falling in a last attempt to preserve some dignity. The short woman bit her lip to try to stop the chuckle that stuck in her throat. She placed a hand on his arm, and ducked her head down until she could catch his gaze.
"You like her long hair, don't you?" When he nodded, Mary's smile grew wider. She giggled a bit, before sighing at Sherlock's pouting expression.
"Why didn't you just tell her?"
"She can't know that I... that I like her long hair. Mary, please, you know why I didn't say anything. You're more intelligent than that." He cast a hard stare at her, before moving his eyes out to the lobby once more. He saw her sitting there, her eyes clouded with drying tears, and her long (beautiful, so beautiful) hair curled over her shoulder as she played with the ends of it.
"I'll cut you a deal, Sherlock. You let her do this, and I'll promise that you get to keep your secret. Now, put that terrible wig back on, and get ready to fake an apology. Oh um...do you actually know how to cut hair?" Sherlock nodded his head, before grabbing the cap of the wig and flinging it over his head.
"Of course I know how to cut hair. I cut my own hair for years." He flashed her a smug grin, before moving back to his post to wait for Molly.
A few moments later, she had rounded the corner, a soft frown on her face.
"Ah, Miss 'ooper. I'm sorry for my mouth. It gets away from me sometimes. Ya wouldn't look fat with short 'air, I'll do my best to make ya look as lovely as ever." Molly's smile came back in a quiet, slow sort of way. She allowed the hairdresser to seat her in the chair, and glanced at her once more through the mirror.
"It's okay. Just, whatever length you think will look the best, that's what I'll go with." Sherlock motioned for her to stand, and took her to the sinks that lined the opposite wall. He guided her hair tie down the length of her locks, and then instructed her to sit back in the chair, tilting her head back into the sink. As the warm water ran slowly over her head, Molly sighed out a long breath, her eyes slipping closed as she relaxed. Sherlock looked down at her serene face, and smiled softly to himself. He slowly shampooed her hair, savoring the texture and softness one final time.
Nearly an hour later, Mary glanced up from the article she had been reading. Molly was walking toward her, a cute bob style cut hanging just above her shoulders. She playfully shook her head back and forth, letting the shorter locks toss wildly around her head. Mary stood, and smiled brightly.
"Oh, Molly! I love it! It's so cute!" She looked over to the hairdresser, who wore a sad smile on 'her' face. Mary winked at Sherlock, mouthing a 'thank you' to him as they left. Molly turned around, and called out a thanks of her own. The detective watched them walk down the street, before turning and going back to the scene of the most heinous crime he'd ever committed. He picked up a few of the long strands of light brown hair, and held it between his fingers. Tucking it away in his coat pocket, he removed the wig, and left quickly out the back.
"Wow! You did chop it off! It's a good look, Molly." John complimented her the next time they found themselves in the lab at St. Bart's. She smiled in reply, before running her hand through the shortened do.
"Thank you! It feels so weird, not having all that extra hair, but I do like it a lot." She cast a sideways glance to Sherlock, who had been trying to focus his attention on his microscope the entire morning.
"Sherlock, don't you agree that Molly's new style is really nice?" John prompted his friend, hoping he wouldn't say something idiotic. Molly watched as well, biting her lip in anticipation. When the man raised his gaze to her, only for a split second, he hummed in agreement.
"It looks as lovely as ever. See? I told you it would hardly make a difference." His tone was subtle and sarcastic, but Molly had stopped at his phrasing, her eyes narrowing a bit in his direction. Mary tucked her head into the door, and smiled in John's direction.
"Darling, would you like to come get lunch with me in the cafeteria?" John was up in an instant, following his wife quickly. He'd nearly forgotten to say goodbye, and was out the door in a flash. This left Molly and Sherlock alone. Silence hung in the air for several minutes, and Molly slowly made her way to the detective's side.
"You know, you could have just said you didn't think cutting my hair would be a good idea. You didn't have to go through so much trouble," she murmured softly. Sherlock lifted his head quickly, and looked at her with wide eyes. Her soft grin told him she knew, and that there was no sense in lying about it. Before he could speak at all though, she nervously bit her lip, a worried glint in her eye as she looked away from him.
"It doesn't really make my face look fat, does it?" She asked in a soft tone that had him regretting ever saying a single word to her.
"No! Of course not! You could never look fat. I just...I only said that to try and prevent you from cutting your hair because-" Sherlock stopped himself just short of the confession, finding the words catching in his throat to the point that he thought he may choke on them.
"You liked my long hair?" She offered up, and he only nodded in agreement. He didn't have the nerve to look at her, so when he felt the softness of her lips against his cheek, he was slightly shocked. He glanced her way as her head slowly moved back, and caught the beginning of her blush as it formed on her own cheeks.
"Thank you, for liking me the way I was, and...and the way I am. Um...it means a lot to me, your opinion." She began to move away, and Sherlock found himself wanting to keep her close. A hand shot out and pulled her quickly back to his side. His other, gliding through her short hair as he tugged her head down to kiss her properly. Molly sighed against his lips, enjoying the feel of his hands raking along her scalp. When they separated, he looked up at her.
"You know, it's only hair. It can grow back, should you ever change your mind. Though, I do think I could grow to like this style too." Sherlock's grin widened into a mischievous smile, before he pulled a giggling Molly back down to his level. They kissed once more, each one enjoying the texture of short hair running through their fingers.
So, there's that. I actually had a lot of fun writing this one, so yay! Leave a review and tell me what you think. Thanks to Icebabe59, for the idea, and I'm still waiting for those pics of your hair! :P Hope you all enjoyed it. Have a great day!