Chapter Text
Day 30
Sixth Meeting With The Most Beautiful Man In The World Sherlock Holmes
She’d decided the single life was for her. And the Most Beautiful Man In The World would never be hers.
She really was that pathetic.
But with that decision, she decided the hell with it, best make the most of it. Live a life she enjoyed, even if there was never anyone to share it with. Take herself out on dates. Laugh off life’s misfortunes. Invest in a wine cooler and buy a few bottles of the decent stuff and host a dinner party.
Actually live for herself for a change.
First step: get rid of the horrendous job. She had a fair bit in savings and investments, but most importantly, she had the brass ones with that move to see about launching a business for herself. She was skilled, knowledgeable, and she could see every mistake her old company was going to make and wouldn’t make it herself. A few co-workers had said when she had it up and running, they’d leave and join her.
So good. She had a future employment idea, she had possible employees.
To celebrate she decided to take herself out to a good dinner and a classic film. She dressed up nicely, daring to wear heels again (the wedge kind, on a tip from a friend) and a lovely Little Black Dress she’d always been saving for the perfect occasion. Well, this wasn’t it, but what a shame to keep waiting and waiting.
And then, she went on the lift and checked her make-up in the shiny doors and for the first time in ages, she felt...normal. Powerful. Lucky.
Lovely.
And apparently, she wasn’t the only one.
The Most Beautiful Man In The World was walking in and he looked at her, mouth hanging open. Feeling daring she gave him a little wave, and he waved back…
Right before slipping on the wet tile and falling on his arse.
Knowing what utter humiliation felt like on a near constant basis, she carefully rushed to his side. “Are you alright?” she asked.
“Just my pride is bruised,” he said. He winced as he sat up. “And perhaps my tailbone.”
“I know that feeling well,” she said with a rueful smile.
“You do, don’t you? Luck seems to never go your way.”
She shrugged before she helped him up. “It always seems to go yours,” she said.
“Are you kidding? I’m an absolute klutz.” He unbuttoned the cuff of his shirt and rolled it up, showing her a bruise that was the size of a small orange on his wrist. “Dropped my handheld blender on it while trying to get my dog out from underfoot. And I’ve had a limp for two days when I slipped and hit my tub.”
She laughed a bit and then shook her head. “I’m sorry. You just seem so...cool and confident.”
“It’s all a facade,” he said, giving her a small smile. “I’d have offered to help you but you always seemed like you were trying to rush away from me. I thought I was coming off as a snob. I’ve been told I have that tendency.”
“Oh, no!” she said. “I was just utterly mortified I kept making an arse out of myself.” She held out her hand. “I’m Molly Hooper. A pleasure to meet you…?”
“Sherlock,” he said. “Sherlock Holmes.”
“Lovely name,” she said with a smile. Then deciding to be bold once again, she nodded her head towards the door. “If you don’t have plans, I was planning on going out for Thai and then seeing a black and white film at one of the museums. Its film noir, which I don’t know if it is something you enjoy, but--”
“I’ve never seen film noir before, but I’m up for new things,” he said, grinning at her. “And I actually know a very good Thai place, if you’ll trust my judgment?”
“I think I can do that,” she said, her smile growing wider. He turned and offered her his arm, and she took it.
So...maybe there was a God, and maybe, just maybe, that God was smiling down at her for a change.