The Consulting Detective

John creaked open the door of 221B to find his fiancé looking just as frazzled as he felt. He quickly edged himself outside, shutting the door before she could get a glimpse of the carnage inside, "Mary, love, I really wasn't-"

"Take me out, take me on a date or anything, just don't make me spend another moment with my crazed psychopath of a best friend!" Mary burst out; grabbing onto John's lapels; for a moment she almost looked deranged.

John gently pried her hands away, shooting her a weary look, "You know, that's supposed to be my line. What's wrong with Molly?"

"She just bloody broke up with Tom bloody Hutchinson and now she insists on doing nearly all the sodding autopsies but she also wants me to stay around while she goes on about him and how it would never have worked and they are still friends and…and…"

"Alright, calm down, Mary. Let's go downstairs and have tea with Mrs. Hudson, 'kay? Then you can tell me everything from the beginning and um….more coherently?"

Mary smacked John right on the injured shoulder and that more or less told him that his fiancé needed a cup of tea as soon as humanely possibly to restore her normality.

Sherlock could not take it anymore; he was bored and he needed a body. Specifically a dead one. More specifically freshly deceased and hopefully with some sort of grotesque tumor that he could chop up into pieces and keep in the fridge.

He was just about to go raid John's room (must have hidden those cigarettes somewhere up there) when John burst in and said, "Okay, that's it, it's been a month, you have to get out."

"It's my flat," Sherlock drawled, "You can't make me."

A sort of glint came into John's eyes, possibly a remnant from his Afghanistan days. "No, you are bloody getting out of this flat before I chuck you out the window, you understand?"

"You won't throw me out the window."

"Watch me. Go to Bart's or something. You haven't gone to Bart's in ages; don't you want to see what all those disgusting experiments you do, anything!"

Sherlock bolted upright, grabbed a fistful of his hair and gave it a vigorous shake, "Don't I want to?! What sort of stupid question is that? After that thing with Molly, she won't even let me go to Bart's, she insists on just sending those reports on or worse, she changes her shifts almost every sodding day, just so I can't drop in on her! And those other idiots…they threw away nearly all my cultures, even those that specifically said 'Not to touch'!-"

"Wait, what? Hold on, what do you mean a 'thing' with Molly? When did you two even have a thing? And I thought you weren't…you know…Yes, just tell me what you did to Molly…again?"

Sherlock actually looked guilty, something that made John rear back a few spaces, "I…may…have kissed her to get her to stay…um…to get her to not enter into a relationship with Tom Hutchinson…I-"

John pinched the bridge of his nose, "Oh good Lord, Sherlock, you clot."

"I'm not a clot!"

"Yes you are. Nobody in their right mind…Okay, alright. I'm not going to fix this up this time. Molly was right, absolutely right to kick you out the way she did. Now, you go crawling back to her, beg for her forgiveness, and hope that-"

"I don't beg."

"When it's Molly Hooper, you do. Just go to Bart's, okay wait, first buy some ice-cream and then go to Bart's. And maybe, just maybe she will be kind enough to forgive you, again…Take her out somewhere, could you do that?"


Molly Hooper was just finishing up her last autopsy report, dreading the moment she had to go home. It was not like she actually had anything to be ashamed of; Tom and she had mutually agreed that their relationship was going nowhere and they broke it off while they still remained friends…instead of letting it fester like an infection which would ultimately hurt both of them.

Molly sighed; Tom was a great guy. Just not the one for her; though her mother had been livid.

Right now, she was also dreading the time when she ultimately had to face Sherlock. Not that she felt bad for doing what she did; Sherlock had to grow up and realize Molly Hooper wasn't just some sort of plaything he could pick up and claim at random.

You would think the man might have garnered a bit more respect for her; she did help him fake his death.

She was just contemplating on what to do when the door creaked open and a very familiar dark mop of hair peeked in.

Molly's heart nearly stopped. She hadn't been expecting a confrontation this soon.

Sherlock stood in front of her; Molly realized with a jolt that this was possibly the first time she had seen Sherlock just downright uncomfortable.

Sherlock unsure of himself actually made her think there was something hideously wrong with the world.

"Sherlock, I…" she started but trailed off when he held out a small cup of ice-cream. A small cup of ice-cream from her favorite gelato place. The one she only went to on her birthday.

"John told me to get you ice-cream; this was the only decent place."

"Oh…I…why?" She tentatively took the cup; her heart giving a happy jump when she realized it was her favorite flavor. She didn't question how he knew, he was Sherlock and that was explanation enough.

"I heard about…Hutchinson…John told me."

"Oh," Molly said, eyes dropping, "Yeah…its fine."

Sherlock looked at her for a long while. "Molly, go on a date with me."

Molly, who had just taken the first bite of that heavenly gelato, nearly spit it out again, "I'm sorry, what?"

Sherlock rolled his eyes, back to being himself again, "Honestly, didn't you hear me? I'm asking you out on a date. It's when two people who like each other go out and have fun."

"I know what a date is, Sherlock," Molly snapped, "I'm just…Wait, did you say you liked me?"

Sherlock gave her an infuriating look, "Oh god. Will you just get your coat and come along?"

"Stop being pushy." Molly retorted.

He suddenly smiled at her, "I like this you. What happened?"

"I dated Tom Hutchinson." Molly said cheekily, smiling up at him as they walked out the door.

Outside of Molly's deceptively calm interior, she was screaming. Not actually screaming, per se, just her brain singing Sherlock Holmes just asked me out on a date, Sherlock bloody Holmes just asked me on a bloody date.

"And there you are, back to your old self again."

"Huh?" Molly asked, somewhat dumbly, trying to blink the haze out of her eyes.

Sherlock snorted derisively, "You are back to being 'mousey' Molly. I liked it when you were being spunky. It suited you better."

Molly rolled her eyes, "Okay, Holmes, you want spunky? Alright then," she quickened her pace, having to take two strides for every one of his, damn his gorgeous legs, "You are a sodding jealous prat."

"Excuse me, I'm a what?" Sherlock said, affronted.

Molly poked his back, "A jealous prat." She enunciated every word slowly and clearly, "And it's your entire fault I can't keep a single relationship for more than a month."

Sherlock grabbed her hand and dragged her into a warm restaurant. He didn't answer until they were both seated.

"My fault?" He snapped, "How is it my fault you are unable to-"

"You always need to poke your freaking Athenian nose into my business. God, all those men I turned down, just because you felt the need to keep your pathologist from running away!"

"You were going to run off and leave me with all those incompetent quacks at Bart's," Sherlock snapped in a lower voice, "And I told you already, I need you."

"To fake deaths and to get dead bodies. Sherlock, I'm not saying that I don't want to be your friend; it's just that…you need to give me some space. Also…" she dropped his gaze suddenly, "I can't wait for you forever."

Confusion was etched upon his face. Then comprehension dawned.


"And this, you asking me out on…whatever this is. God, could you stop it as well? Just, don't do things like this anymore….especially if you don't have any intention of being my boyfriend."

"Can't I?" Sherlock asked, in all seriousness.

"Can't you what?" Molly asked, sure she misheard him.

"Be your boyfriend," Sherlock said, rolling his eyes, "You really need to work on your listening, Molly."

"You can't be serious." Molly said eyes as big as saucers, "Are you on drugs again?"

"Not for a while…no." Sherlock suddenly looked unsure of himself, and it scared Molly to no end.

"Order something, will you? You might as well eat." He said quietly. Molly nodded in agreement.

The rest of the meal was spent in absolute silence.

"Well…uh…thank you for dinner." Molly said as they neared her flat.

Sherlock nodded silently.


"I meant what I said, Molly." He said quietly, grabbing her hand and pulling her to him. He buried his face in her neck, "I know I can't be anything conventional, and I don't want to be. Just….don't leave. Don't date those horrible men, you are my pathologist, you are mine. You have just infiltrated my mind palace, I can't cut those vines away, I can't delete it…I…"

"Wow." Molly interrupted, "You must really like me, then. Alright then, Holmes," She suddenly moved away, still within his arms reach but enough for him to miss her body heat.

The playful tone in her voice made his brow furrow.

"Let's play a little game, shall we?" Molly said, giggling a bit, "If you can win, you get a very nice prize, if I may say so."

"What's the game?"

"You have to win me. I did dump Tom Hutchinson for you." She whispered, leaning into his ear.

"Oh, then I hope you'll make it interesting, Ms Hooper?" Sherlock said, giving his most charming lop-sided grin.

Molly smiled at him.

Sherlock leaned in, intent on kissing her; she pressed her finger on his mouth and increased the distance between them. She laughed at his frustrated look, "Now, it wouldn't be fun if it was this easy, now would it?" She turned away, out of his arms and opened her door.

"Goodnight Mr. Sherlock Holmes."

Sherlock was left staring at the closed door, sudden frustration pumping in his veins.

"Okay, maybe just this once." Molly said, grabbing at his collar almost five minutes later when he stood outside waiting for a cab, "But from tomorrow, we play the game, you understand?"

And then she brought their lips together in a most bruising and exhilarating kiss.

A/N: Look Novera, I actually finished a story! The first one in three years! Me so very happy! That saying, I have you guys to thank! Sorry it took so long, I kept getting distracted by my other plot bunnies…and that damn surgery.

Thank you for your support and kind words! Hugs and kisses to all those who faved, alerted and reviewed to this story of mine- magicstrikes, MadAsAHatterJay, lililloop, amirizar2003, whytejigsaw, Zora Arian, patemalah21, Jenna Yemowa, almightyswot, saicho-18, Anonymous,The GoldenHairedMockingJay, shepweir always, Nathalie,Xanna1999, the guest reviewers and Mione W.G ( who read my story in one go and made me so happy)

I'm going to go watch Parade's End now…

And thanks so much to NoveraDeMedici, for being the Sherlock to my John.

Now go read my other stories (blatant self advertising)

Hope you like this and please review!

Much love,

Adi x