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“You’re in love with her.”
Khan scowled into the cup of too sugary punch at the birthday party for Molly’s goddaughter. If it involved Rosie, as certain as Molly would be there, so would the child’s godfather, Sherlock Holmes. And if there was one person in this time and place who grated on his nerves more than Kirk, it was Sherlock. At least Kirk wasn’t a complete and utter arse to him as Sherlock tended to be.
It had been deemed best after their arrival in the middle of the Thames that perhaps he and Kirk should have separate residences. Kirk stayed with the brother of the government agent handling their integration into this alternate universe, also known as Sherlock, and he stayed with the only other person the man had trusted with the truth, Dr. Molly Hooper.
And unfortunately, in this rare instance, Sherlock was right.
The guise was that Sherlock and he were related but estranged, and he was to remain at Dr. Hooper’s home until other lodgings could be found. Only he didn’t want to leave, and he certainly didn’t her to know that he didn’t want to leave. But Sherlock...he had figured it out.
“Yes,” Khan said through gritted teeth. “And if you tell her, you’re dead.”
“If I don’t, you leave her home,” Sherlock said, sipping his own punch. “And neither of us want that, brother mine. Kirk is an infinitely better housemate.”
Khan nodded but pursed his lips. Frankly, he just wanted this conversation to end more than anything else, but his eyes drifted to Molly with the toddler birthday girl on her hip, her eyes bright and her smile wide, and he smiled faintly. He would tell her himself, dammit, rather than have Sherlock spill his deepest secret.
Surprisingly, that really was his deepest secret. Molly knew the truth, the whole truth, about what his plans had been in his own universe with Kirk, with Marcus, what he had done to London. And she had been upset at first but then she seemed to forgive him, say that what he had done had no bearing on what he could do here and now and the fact that here, there were second chances and she thought he should take advantage of that.
Simple faith…it had been so long since he’d had that.
Khan moved away from Sherlock and moved towards Molly and Rosie. There were others dancing with young children to softly playing pop music and Molly was about to hand Rosie off to her father. When she was done she turned and he swore her smile got wider. “Khan! Enjoying yourself?”
“Not particularly, but I thought I could ask for a dance.”
“I would love one.” He pulled her closer as somehow the music became slower. They swayed in time to the music and she rested her head on his chest. He wanted the moment to freeze now, stay perfect and bright and warm.
“I don’t want to leave your home,” he said softly.
“Then don’t,” she said, looking up at him. “Just...stay. With me.”
“In your home?” he asked.
She nodded. “And more.”
He leaned in and kissed her passionately, not caring who was paying attention, but by her enthusiastic response, she certainly didn’t seem to mind. Somehow, he had the feeling their time remaining at this party would be short-lived...