A Day To Forget?
Hiya guys! So, here it is, the follow up to my one-shot A Night To Remember (thank you so much for all the wonderful reviews on that story btw, love you guys so much xx). This took me a while; I just couldn't decide whose perspective to choose so I settled for both. I was considering making it a full blown chapter story after the events of A Night to Remember but I'm not so sure. If you like the idea, I'll certainly give it a go. Anyway, on with the show… xx
It was another ordinary, dreary day in London as the married couple headed out of the airport, departed for their new lives together. John and Mary Watson had just returned from their week long honeymoon and it seems one of the pair has something else on their mind as they get into the cab…
"Look, babe, you've been on about it all week. Will you just let it go?" Mary was saying as her husband once again huffed about the events of their wedding. Mary was trying to relax for the long drive back to their new home but it seemed her husband had different ideas. John tried to be excited for his new life with his new wife. He was…he just couldn't get rid of the images of that fateful morning. He shuddered. Mary sighed.
"Ok, so what's the big deal? So, they slept together? So what? A lot of people did that night…," Mary was saying. The cab driver raised his eyebrows and attempted to drown out the conversation. John frowned.
"So what? So what? This is Sherlock! He doesn't…this isn't him. And also…," John shifted a little as he looked at his wife. With a glance towards the cab driver, he lowered his voice and continued, "the thought of my best friend having more…fun on my wedding night than me."
He had tried to word it so as not to offend Mary. He needn't have worried for Mary just laughed at him.
"Oh, love. I'm sorry, I tried to wake you but you were out for the count…," Mary said placing a sympathetic hand on his shoulder. John cursed under his breath and returned to his deep thoughts. The cab drivers eyebrows were threatening to hit the roof of the car.
This was strange to John. Sherlock never allowed himself to become involved with anyone before. But now he thought about it, John had began to notice little things between them, whether it be little glances shared or 'accidental' contact. Oh, John knew Sherlock wasn't as immune to the charms of the pathologist as he'd like to think. This thought made John even more uncomfortable.
"Maybe you don't know him as well as you think," Mary offered suddenly, pulling John from his thoughts, trying to help him through it. John sighed.
"Trust me, no one will ever fully understand Sherlock bloody Holmes," John rested his elbow on the window as he watched the airport slowly fade into the distance. Then a thought hit him…
"Anyway, what about you? Molly's supposed to be your best friend. Aren't you worried that her…being with Sherlock…would physically destroy her?" John asked, rounding on his wife. He was surprised to see her smiling as she turned to look out of her window.
"I think we're a little late for that," she sniggered. John frowned at his wife. The poor cab driver was convinced his eyebrows couldn't go any higher and settled for staring intently at the road.
"Oh, that's very sweet. I hope you remember that this is your fault," he said sarcastically, turning away. She looked at him now.
"Me? How is it my fault?" She asked shrilly. John turned to her and put on his best impression of his dear wife.
"'Let's have an open bar, love. I don't fancy letting our lovely guests having to pay for their drinks'," he smiled when he heard her swear under her breath.
1 week ago
The light from the windows poured into the elegant hotel room, illuminating the two bodies lying peacefully upon the classy bed. Molly Hooper sighed happily as she rested her head on the chest of none other than Sherlock Holmes. Their hands were clasped tightly on the bed next to them. The bed sheet only just covered their heavily sleeping forms. Sherlock opened his eyes wide suddenly, ignoring the burning sensation it brought from the light and the almighty headache that had somehow developed. As he allowed his eyes to adjust, he slowly glanced around the room and was startled to find some rather incriminating evidence. He was becoming increasingly intrigued about why he wasn't wearing anything, or why the absence of said clothing seemed to be because it had been thrown haphazardly around the room, or why the room itself was rather untidy to say the least, or why there seemed to be some kind of faint red substance smeared across his body…or, perhaps most startling of all, why an equally naked Molly Hooper was lying over him, her hand entwined with his. He groaned and placed his free hand over his face, closing his eyes and rubbing his forehead. What the hell have I done? This was an incredibly awkward situation…one he had no idea how to handle…
Ok…maybe it wasn't so bad. Maybe they could get through this and go back to normal, pretending that such an event never happened. Is it possible? He opened his eyes and looked down at her. She looked extremely peaceful and…content. No, much more than that. It was like she was made to lie there, next to him. He had to admit, he had never felt so…relaxed and peaceful. Like he didn't want to leave. A thought suddenly crossed Sherlock's brilliant mind. Perhaps it was still the alcohol talking but…what if this was meant to be? Would it be such a terrible thing if the great Sherlock Holmes admitted that this was all he really wanted? Now he was here, it was really difficult to dismiss these feelings. Sure, he had noticed her in the past, but he dismissed it as uninteresting. He could ignore them…but for how long? Lying here with Molly Hooper, the pathologist - no, his pathologist – he actually felt something resembling happiness. He knew for a fact that he wouldn't be able to stay away any more. As John had said many times before, Sherlock was a child that way. Once he had something good and that he enjoyed he couldn't get enough. And right now, lying in the warm arms of the rather lovely pathologist, he wouldn't be anywhere else. He breathed out a deep sigh. There was that so hard? He, Sherlock Holmes, needed Molly Hooper, in more ways than he ever thought possible…
He allowed his hand to fall softly onto her bare back, stroking it absent-mindedly as he thought about what to do. Molly sighed dreamily at his touch and snuggled into him more. Sherlock was shocked at the effect he had on her, the effect she had on him, shocked it had taken him so long to realise, shocked he had to actually get drunk and sleep with Molly to realise and shocked he actually realised these feelings without remembering what had happened to bring them up. His headache had started to subside slightly. Sherlock had always been good with hangovers. He assumed his brilliant mind was able to fix itself quickly for it to be able to feed off of information.
Suddenly, Molly started to stir. Panicking, Sherlock quickly closed his eyes, pretending to sleep. It was the only thing he could think of to avoid that conversation. He had only just realised for himself how much she meant to him and wasn't ready to tell her yet. A child indeed…
Molly blinked her eyes open, groaning slightly, clutching her head. She noticed, then, that something was different. She looked over her shoulder. A hand was placed on her lower back, on top of the bed sheet covering the rest of her. She gasped. She whipped her head round to see the sleeping consulting detective. She let her wildly spinning head fall softly onto his chest. Oh great…this is just…great. She tried and failed to remember how she had ended up in Sherlock Holmes' bed. There was a wedding…but that's about all she could manage. She looked around and could only muster one rather pleasing thought. It must have been a good wedding…
Molly gently lifted her head from him and detangled her hand from his, and was relieved when he didn't stir. She didn't want the extremely awkward conversation that she was sure would accompany being discovered in such a way. She imagined Sherlock would feel the same. She could collect her things, dress quickly and head for her room. Only she would know about it…
She carefully sat up and left the bed, trying her hardest to ignore the room spinning around her. She blinked furiously for a moment, trying to focus on the room. She swayed on the spot for a moment, before shaking her head and darting quietly around the room gathering items of her discarded clothing. Unbeknownst to Molly, Sherlock was watching her every move from his partially closed eyes, a slightly amused expression on his face. She was frantically searching around for her underwear for a few minutes, before giving up and rushing to the bathroom to dress.
Sherlock breathed out a sigh of relief. As far as she knew, she was the only one that knew about this…should it stay that way? Sherlock considered she would want to have the 'what now?' conversation. Yet, her behaviour suggested she wanted to be as far away as possible. He frowned, the unfamiliar feeling of confusion coming to him. Could she really go on knowing she had slept with the man she had been in love with for years and not even telling him or saying anything about it? Maybe she really wanted to forget it? Maybe she felt it was a mistake? Sherlock frowned. There were so many reasons why he should just let her get on with her life and forget this whole thing ever happened. And only one why he shouldn't…
Molly dressed quickly and silently. She wanted so much to go in there and tell him how much it had meant to her, even if she couldn't remember it. At least he wouldn't be able to tell her to forget the whole thing even happened. She hoped that, being hung over, Sherlock would be unable to deduce the state of his undress or the room. She took a deep breath and, praying he was still asleep, pulled the door open…
The bathroom door opened suddenly and Molly tiptoed hurriedly over to the bedroom door without so much as a glance towards Sherlock. He had to do something, it was now or never…
"Forgetting something?" he asked, sitting up and propping himself against the headboard of the bed. It was an enormous effort on Sherlock's part not to chuckle at the way she had jumped at the sound of his voice. She stopped dead but refused to look at him. She couldn't take the sight of him looking irresistible…once again.
"Um…s-sorry?" she stammered. She was rather nervous at what he might say, might do. He wasn't the most predictable of people. Well…of course, she knew what he'd say. It was a mistake…it can't happen again…maybe we should forget the whole thing even happened (like either of them could anyway)…let this awful secret die with us. The thought alone of hearing these words from the man she desperately loved brought tears to her eyes. She blinked them away quickly. When he didn't answer she was forced to turn around to look at him. Molly was surprised to see he had a slightly amused expression on his face. He raised his eyebrows, still smirking slightly and flicked his eyes upwards. She followed his gaze and squeaked. There, dangling from the chandelier of all places, was her missing underwear.
"What…how…oh, don't bother," she tried uselessly, cheeks flushing red. He was still bloody smirking. She stood awkwardly for a few moments before…
"Sher-Sherlock, I think we need to…," she was cut off by a voiced thought from Sherlock.
"I wonder whom that was down to," Sherlock was really enjoying himself now. Oh, he was smug. Wait…what? After a few moments of stunned silence and the rhythmic opening and closing of her mouth, Molly sighed.
"This is the opposite of how I expected you to react," Molly said, smiling a little as the mood lightened. Sherlock nodded slightly, shrugging.
"It's funny how things turn out. I see everything but I never anticipated this. What harm can it do? Apart from emotional distress and physical damage," he smiled again. She flushed, looking away, "I really don't see the problem with this situation. I believe what I'm trying to say is," he looked directly at her. "I don't regret it. Do you?"
It was a moment before Molly processed what he had said to her. Molly thought he must still be drunk. No, he definitely. He wouldn't say these things otherwise. She just stood there opening and closing her mouth, for the second time that morning, for a short while. He had looked up at her now and as their eyes met Molly could tell he was sober. Well, as sober as you can get after the night they had had. He was growing noticeably impatient waiting for her answer.
"Where's this…come from?" she asked, still slightly in shock. He shrugged.
"I cannot understand it. I tried to find any information as to why I feel these things, but the more I look I've…begun to see. I awoke this morning with a clear head, and an understanding of…I understand…well, the once tiny room I had encountered...has now become a full blown corridor…," he had begun to ramble. Molly had never seen Sherlock struggle to get a coherent sentence out before.
Molly officially had no idea what he was talking about but assumed it had something to do with this mind palace or something John had mentioned. After a few minutes of some incoherent mumbling, she smiled warmly at him.
"No, I don't regret it. Of course, I don't…not now not ever," she let her words sink in for a moment and Sherlock nodded silently. Molly glanced at the clock on the bedside table, one of the very things that hadn't been knocked to the floor. It was now mid-morning. She looked up at the chandelier again and cleared her throat.
"Um…I need to get them down," she blushed slightly, gesturing towards the chandelier. He nodded, making no indication he was about to help. She had at least thought he'd move from the middle of the bed so she could stand there. Sherlock, however, made no movement to do so, instead just sat there, the amusement back in his expression. She sighed and climbed onto the bed and stepped over him, her feet either side of him. She turned away from him to face the chandelier and could feel, with slight pride, his eyes raking over her form. Molly made a mental note to thank Mary for the lovely dress. She carefully detached her underwear, not wanting to have to pay for the chandelier as well. Suddenly, she felt strong arms wrap themselves around her waist and pull her back down to the bed. Before she could form a coherent thought and stop her vision from blurring, Sherlock had her lightly pinned to the bed and had leant forward to whisper low into her ear.
"I do hope you were not about to leave, Miss Hooper? Unless there's somewhere you'd rather be?" He was pleased to feel her smile as he kissed at her neck.
John was stood outside 221B Baker Street, waiting. He was determined to talk to Sherlock, who he hadn't spoken to since the wedding. He took a deep breath and opened the door with the spare key. He wasn't about to exchange pleasantries. He had to sort this out so he could rid the image of the morning from his memory. He walked up the creaky stairs and, automatically, opened the door without knocking. Oh, how he wished he had knocked…
Sherlock and Molly were stood in the middle of the room, kissing extremely passionately, shirts open and hands roaming. They both sprang apart when John burst in and he noticed their heavy breathing, flustered faces and clumsy hands fumbling with righting their clothing. John's face could only be described as a picture…
For a few moments no one spoke, until…
"Who would like a cup of tea?" Mrs. Hudson called from downstairs.
"No…," John's voice came out higher than he expected. He cleared his throat. "No, thank you, Mrs. Hudson." He studied their faces. Molly looked about ready to die of embarrassment whilst Sherlock looked irritated and impatient.
"Um…so, what's this then?" John asked weakly. He really didn't know what to say. Molly opened her mouth but Sherlock beat her to it. He stepped next to her and wrapped his arm around her waist.
"Isn't it obvious?" He smirked.
Ok, guys. I had real trouble with that one. I hoped I didn't put you off too much by Sherlock's reaction. I was tempted to have him 'freak out' but I thought fluffiness! And then…once again I got carried away. It was just too cute I couldn't resist. I am really sorry if I let you guys down. Xx Please review and let me know what you think xx thank you so much xx