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Mycroft was nervous. He supposed he should be, after all, he was going out with a woman he had learned to like quite a bit. But, like Molly had said before his appointment, he didn’t have much of a baseline to compare his emotions to, because once his complex emotions were coming into play, his disorder was as well.
He was inspecting himself in Molly’s bathroom, because he was staying with her until she could see the medication helping him. He had started the medication that morning with breakfast, and he hesitated at the thought that the medication could make him feel worse. What if he was having a weird spin off of his good days--where he was more anxious than he was “happy”? That really wouldn’t be good. He swallowed. He needed to calm down. He was getting ahead of himself, nothing was going to happen, he was fine.
Molly knocked on the door. “Mycroft? You okay?”
“Fine, just give me a second!” he called out. He fixed his hair, quickly debated the merits of being in just a button up and khakis, and opened the door. “Hello, Dr. Hooper,” he said with a grin.
Molly rolled her eyes and took his hand. “I know this good fish ‘n chips shop we can go to. I think you’d like it.”
Mycroft frowned. “Really?”
“Okay, well, I like it, at least,” Molly shrugged. “So it’s possible you’d like it.”
Mycroft closed his eyes and drooped his head to the floor. He knew he didn’t have an argument against going. “Fine…” he sighed.
Molly lit up, and he had to admit, he was a little pleased about that. “Let’s go!” she exclaimed, dragging him out the door and along for the ride.
Mycroft had to admit, the place Molly had known about did make good fish and chips...once he had found the vinegar, he was in heaven. “Do you like it?” Molly asked.
“Mm. Mm-hm,” Mycroft hummed as he swallowed. “It’s the best food I’ve had in quite a while, and I don’t know whether I should attribute that to the cook or the company.”
Molly blushed and playfully hit him, and he smiled a little at her. It was fun, just sitting here eating with her, even though it should have been anything but. Eating seemed tedious at best most days, impossible at worst. And yet here he was, actually enjoying a meal.
“You must have been hungry!” Molly exclaimed as Mycroft finished off the last of his chips. “I haven’t seen anyone eat like that in years, not since Sherlock found someone starved half to death to get a ransom out of some millionaire or another. Are you all right?”
He frowned, looking at his plate to find it was indeed empty. “I’m...fine. I just had a light lunch, my body is compensating, I suppose.”
Molly creased her eyebrows but nodded. “So long as you’re okay.”
He gave her a fake I’m humoring you but I need you to actually believe me smile, and asked for another small portion of fries. Molly looked over at him. “You know, having a light lunch one day I can understand, but every day isn’t strictly healthy.”
In his surprise Mycroft nearly spilled the vinegar he was pouring over his chips. “How would you…”
“You’re clearly used to eating a large dinner, and besides, you’ve been living with me. I can see when you barely touch your lunch.”
Mycroft blinked. “Right...do you ever want to change careers?”
Molly laughed and shook her head. “I’m fine where I am, thanks. Besides, office romance seems a bit too typical for you, and it usually ends with someone being a psychopath for me.”
Mycroft nodded and chuckled. “I will give you that, my dear.”
Molly grinned and they went back to eating. When both of them were done, Mycroft sighed in disappointment and Molly looked a little bit surprised. “Something wrong?!” she asked quietly but concernedly.
Mycroft nodded. “Of course. I’m just sad to be leaving such beautiful company.”
Molly blushed furiously and wouldn’t meet Mycroft’s eyes. “You’re going back to my apartment with me, you moron.”
Mycroft brightened. “Oh, that’s right! Nevermind, then.”
Molly rolled her eyes. “You are an unashamed flirt, you know that, right?” Molly asked.
Mycroft smirked. “Always, I’m afraid. Will that be a problem?”
“No problem with me,” Molly shrugged.
Mycroft nodded and the two walked out of the shop to hail a taxi. “I really had fun tonight,” Molly said.
“I did too,” Mycroft responded immediately. “All of tonight has been...different for me. But...it’s not a bad different,” he said slowly, chewing each word over in thought.
“So, do you think we can do this again?” Molly asked.
“Absolutely! B-but only if you want to, I don’t want you to feel forced into something, I-I mean, I would never force you to do something for me, at least not consciously, wait, that didn’t sound any better--!”
Molly laughed at Mycroft stumbling over himself. “It’s fine, Mycroft. I get it. Tonight was nice.”
“Y-yeah. I definitely enjoyed it,” Mycroft said, training his eyes on the street.
“And I’d love to do this again,” Molly smiled. “So you’re not forcing me into anything.”
Mycroft nodded. “Well, then. Let me know when you want to do this again and I’ll let you know when I’m available.”
Molly laughed. “So, does this mean we’re a thing, now? Mycroft and Molly? Dating?”
Mycroft considered it and nodded. “I suppose it does.”
Molly grinned. “That’s fantastic!” she exclaimed. “You can pick the next date, if you want.”
Mycroft nodded and thought about it, too busy to even notice when they had gotten back to Molly’s place. He had plans for himself and one Dr. Molly Hooper. And they were plans that he’d love to see put into action.