Work Text:
One thing about Molly Hooper is that she never truly has her music on shuffle. Oh, she presses shuffle. She seems to have every intention of listening to her playlist on shuffle. But then, she will queue exactly what she wants to listen to. She will queue hours’ worth of songs. She, therefore, defeats the whole purpose of shuffle. It was one of the first things Sherlock noticed about her. He’d watched her do it for years. She had a habit of listening to music on the clean down of the lab (which she often still insisted on doing even when she was staying late for him). It was annoying at first. But now it was … endearing. It became part of Molly. A quirk so quintessentially her own that he’d never want to see it changed.
She entered her own world as she cleaned with her earphones in. It seemed a somewhat unreachable state of content that shouldn’t have been happy, but she made it so. She made everything happy. Molly Hooper was sunshine personified, even if she did insist on queuing song after song.
She caught him looking at her and smiled. It warmed him. He wasn’t just looking at her. Oh no, he was staring. He was downright ogling her petite frame as she danced around the bench, wiping it down with a cloth seemingly in time with whatever pop song was playing in her ears. Of course, she would never assume he was staring. She would never assume more than a quick glance or glare of annoyance. For someone who saw people so easily, she was damn good at missing Sherlock’s signs of attraction towards her, his interest in her as more than a friend.
It had shocked him when he figured it out. Shook his very core and toppled the piles of morals and mantras he had stacked up in his mind palace. He’d felt the frisson of it at Sherrinford. The space in his heart being filled. The roaring in his ears. The flipping of his stomach. The start of something. But he didn’t know what. He knew he was overwhelmed with emotions, with feelings and revelations manipulated out of him. He was in no position to digest what had happened between them. It took him days, weeks, to process the ordeal. And as he processed, he skirted around one room in his mind palace, her room. The flipping and roaring returned whenever he saw her though, and he knew he had to pin it down. To figure it out. And, as they are wont to do, things became clear for Sherlock in an instant.
He loved her.
Of course, he did. She was Molly and he was Sherlock. It just made sense. Every single emotion he’d felt towards her suddenly made sense. The protectiveness he felt over her. The jealousy he relentlessly denied when she was seeing other men. The warmth he felt when she was kind to him. The shame that filled him when she thought she didn’t count. The thrill he got from making her smile, making her laugh. The ease he felt by her side. The guilt he felt for all he put her through. Many of these emotions had plagued him at the time, but now he understood.
He loved her.
And because he loved her, everything made sense.
He’d missed it that’s all. He’d missed it, just like he always missed something. And now he just had to figure out a way to tell her. To show her. To make her believe he loved her.
That was where he came up stumped.
He tried. The words died on his tongue every time. He wasn’t particularly loquacious when it came to feelings and his lack of experience with the whole thing left him bereft of the ability to articulate himself. He hated it, but he couldn’t push past the barrier he had formed for himself all those years ago. He knew eventually it would fall; he also knew it would be Molly who took it down. But he needed to let her in before she could. And he needed words to do that.
See? Stumped.
She started to sing under her breath then, pulling him from his reverie. Molly had a varied music taste, so he enjoyed hearing snippets of what she was listening to. He liked guessing the genre. He caught the end of ‘Bye, Bye, Bye’ by *NSYNC before she dropped the cloth into the sink at the back. Then he recognised the opening of ‘Sound of the Underground’ by Girls Aloud as she started to put away the cleaned and now dry test tubes. Ah, yes. He knew this playlist well. This was Molly’s 2000s throwback playlist. He smiled, mouthing some of the words with her while his back was turned. He would admit to no one that he knew these songs; he would viciously deduce anyone who tried to suggest he enjoyed them. But he did. Because Molly enjoyed them.
She often cleaned to this playlist, even at home. So he had become familiar with it from the times he had used her flat as a bolthole. She would blast it out of her speaker in her living room, loud enough to hear it around her entire home. And when she became comfortable with his presence (or just forgot he was there, he had never figured it out), she sang along. She had a lovely voice. It was just another thing that attracted him to her. He just needed to articulate that to her.
He had just heard her shuffle into her office, still humming Girls Aloud, when he was struck with an idea. A stroke of genius if he did say so himself. He turned his head to spy her phone left on the bench to his left, where she had been sitting before setting out on her tasks. He reached over and pulled it to him, rolling his eyes at her password being her cat’s birthday. Then he thumbed through the playlist, finding the song he was looking for and queuing it. Then, he had to scroll through her queue to move it to the top. Because obviously, she had about 30 queued up anyway. He smiled to himself and put her phone back exactly where it was, before busying himself with his microscope again just as she danced back into the room. Atomic Kitten was playing. Now all he had to do was wait.
***
Molly danced back into the lab, seeing Sherlock’s eyes down on his work. She used to be embarrassed to enjoy her music around him, but then she’d had to house him for a while and gotten over it. If she had to put up with his moods, he had to put up with her cleaning dance parties. He never really paid attention to her anyway, so it didn’t really matter.
She had been in the mood for Naughties throwbacks today after hearing S Club 7 playing in the hospital canteen when she went to grab a bite to eat and some coffee for her and Sherlock. She smiled waiting for the next song. She had queued Destiny’s Child next and had fond memories of dancing around her kitchen with her old roommate to their music. Hearing them always brought a smile to her face.
She was shocked, then, when ‘Survivor’ didn’t play.
Instead, she recognised the tinny beat of ‘About You Now’ by the Sugababes.
Her brow furrowed; she hadn’t queued this. Oh, she liked the song, she played it often. But it hadn’t been on her queue list that day.
She stopped her cleaning and walked over to her phone. Sure enough, there it was. The next song in her queue. She bit her lip in confusion as she listened to the lyrics.
Can we bring yesterday back around?
'Cause I know how I feel about you now
I was dumb, I was wrong, I let you down
But I know how I feel about you now
She shook her head, she must have queued it. Her finger must have slipped. The only other possibility was that Sherlock had done it and that was unlikely. More than unlikely. Why would he?
That’s when she felt his eyes on her.
She turned to look at him, her phone in her hand. He had a glint in his eye. It was almost cheeky. And there was a look on his face she didn’t recognise. It was a mix between smug, excited and … nervous. Why was he nervous?
He reached for her phone, and she numbly passed it over, but he shook his head, taking her wrist instead. He pulled her closer. Closer than she had ever been to him before. She blushed immediately. She was definitely in his personal space, but she couldn’t step back. Her feet were frozen in shock and even if they weren’t, Sherlock was still holding her. He took her phone with his other hand and placed it on the table before letting his hand slide down from her wrist until he was holding her now free hand. His other reached up to take one earbud out of her ear. The music paused for a second before he placed it in his own ear, and it started again just in time for the bridge.
Not a day passed me by
When I don't think about you
And there's no moving on
'Cause I know you're the one
And I can't be without you
As it played, he held her gaze. Emotion swam around his ocean eyes. Molly felt she could drown in them. His expression was so soft, so relaxed. Molly didn’t think she’d ever seen him look so vulnerable, not even when he asked her to help him fake her death. The lyrics made her shudder. What was he doing? Her head was spinning. Her eyes started to avoid his, looking anywhere else. But he brought her back to him with a hand on her cheek, her jaw. His fingers pressed into her hair. He was cradling her head and holding her hand and looking into her eyes as a girl band sang about love and second chances. What was happening?
Can we bring yesterday back around?
'Cause I know how I feel about you now
I was dumb, I was wrong, I let you down
But I know how I feel about you now
He didn’t go as far as starting to sing it to her, which she was glad about. She might have gone crazy if that happened. She would have laughed in his face, and something told her this was not the time. Despite the 2007 party tune in her ear, she couldn’t help but feel like something serious was happening. She felt like she was on the edge of something, she just didn’t know what.
As the song faded out, he took the earbud out of his ear and placed it on the bench, prompting her to do the same. He smiled at her as she did, a smile so warm she felt it in her toes.
“Sherlock … what-”
He was still cupping her cheek and he brushed his thumb over her lips which silenced her. His eyes dropped to her lips as he did, and the warmth from his smile now felt like the heat of desire.
“It was true, Molly.”
She felt dizzy. This was so not how she expected her Tuesday night to go. His thumb was still stroking the skin of her cheek.
“What was?”
He smiled again, and his eyes crinkled. She knew he meant it when his eyes crinkled.
“Everything.”
He said it like a prayer and she shivered, but she still didn’t understand.
“I’m going to need you to be a bit more specific.”
He breathed a laugh and she felt it on her skin, reminding her again how close they were. She was standing between his legs as he sat on the stool, their faces level.
“What I said to you all those weeks ago.” She blinked, he clarified further. “On the phone.”
Her head tilted away from him and Sherlock watched her start to bring her guard up. Her brow pinched and he saw sadness flash in her eyes. He quickly brought his other hand up to her face, keeping her gaze on him, keeping her inches away. Her lips were pressed together and he could see a sheen of tears gathering in her eyes. It was like a stab to his chest. He had hurt her so many times, he had tarnished her trust. He had known she wouldn’t believe him, but he didn’t know it would hurt this much.
“Molly, please. Please, look at me. I’m telling you the truth.”
She stopped fighting then, and lifted her hands to his wrists, curling her fingers around them. He watched as her narrowed eyes searched his face, his expression. As they settled on his eyes, his breath caught. She was beautiful, and he was in awe as she watched her undress him emotionally. This must be what it felt like, to be deduced. She was doing what she did best, she was seeing him, and for the first time, he let her. No barriers, no scathing words, just him and her. Her expression was ever-changing but finally, it settled to a calm look of what felt like admiration, desire. But he didn’t want to get his hopes up.
“Sherlock?”
“Yes, Molly?”
His voice was a whisper. He sounded undone.
“Did you just use a Sugababes song to confess your love to me?”
Her question started out serious, but by the end of it she was smiling and holding back a laugh. He winced a bit, it did sound awful when she said it like that. She laughed out loud at his expression. He joined her. Their happiness mingled between them and settled over him like a comfort blanket. It suddenly didn’t feel difficult anymore.
“Yes.”
“You queued it on my phone, on purpose?”
“Yes.”
“That is the most ridiculous thing you have ever done.”
“Yes.”
“Sherlock?”
“Yes?”
“I love you too.”
He blinked, buffered a bit, and then he smiled. The widest smile Molly had ever seen. He looked gorgeous. Molly could barely believe what was happening.
“Thank God.”
He whispered it with great relief before bringing his lips to hers. They were soft and warm and all-consuming and Molly thought she might actually faint until he pulled away, moving back just enough to look her in the eyes. This time it was definitely desire he saw staring back at him.
“I love you, Molly Hooper. I love you, and I will spend the rest of my life proving it to you if you’ll have me.”
She smiled and let her hands slide around his neck and into his hair, relishing the half-lidded look of unadulterated longing on his chiselled face as she carded her fingers across his scalp.
“Deal.”
Then, she kissed him with everything she had. It was exquisite. It was everything she never thought she’d get from him and yet here it was. She could feel it. The love. The lust. The perfect harmony that came from them coming together. It wasn’t perfect, but it was them. And that was all she’d ever wanted. It didn’t matter how it came to be, just that it did.
Molly felt complete. She felt whole for the first time in her life as she poured her heart into his kiss. Sherlock felt like he was coming home, he felt like he was adrift no more. Molly Hooper was his anchor. Everything was just as it should be.
And if John Watson was more than a little confused when Sherlock bought himself and Molly tickets to see the Sugababes on tour, he didn’t say so to the happy couple.