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Sherlock had been studiously avoiding her as best he could since her return from Vienna. She had to admit that hurt a bit, but she supposed she could understand. Mary had said he didn’t seem to like the idea that his brother could fancy her. She had said he hadn’t seemed jealous, and thank God for small favours, but still. It hurt that just because he wanted to begrudge his brother happiness that he would begrudge her happiness as well.
He couldn’t avoid her today, however. Today she had three bodies that all appeared to be connected but she wasn’t sure, and neither were the detective inspectors in charge of the cases, and as Lestrade was one of the ones involved he’d asked Sherlock to take a look. He’d agreed, reluctantly, and then come by and said the bare minimum amount of words to her.
Fine. If this is what their friendship was going to amount to, maybe it hadn’t been all that important in the first place.
“When you’re done, stow them away before Dr. Carmichael comes on shift,” she said to Sherlock after another long stretch of silence, giving up on there being conversation. She had ten minutes left of her shift, and then she was going to go to the locker room and change into the dress she had hanging in her locker and be whisked away on a date. Not even Sherlock could ruin that.
“Running off for a date with my brother?” he said, a scowl on his lips.
“As a matter of fact, yes, that’s exactly what I’m doing,” she said with a nod. She didn’t give him a chance to say anything else, though, before she moved towards the opening doors. “If it’s another body could you kindly wait until—”
“It’s me,” Mycroft said quietly.
Molly’s eyes darted from her boyfriend to his brother, whose head had snapped up and body had gone rigid when Mycroft spoke. “Perhaps you should go in my office,” she said.
“No, by all means, let him stay out here,” Sherlock said, turning to look at the two of them. “He’ll have full run of the place soon enough.” Then his eyes zeroed in on the flowers he held and he gave a slightly derisive snort. “Flowers, Mycroft? How quaint.”
“Molly appreciates them,” he said quietly, his voice tight as his hand tightened around the bouquet of lilies in his hand.
“You know you have no business being in a relationship,” Sherlock said, moving away from the body. “As you have told me time and again, caring is a disadvantage. Love is a chemical defect. People can get hurt if you care. Or is it just that you want me to be miserable, brother mine?”
“Opinions can change,” he said.
“Only for you, apparently,” Sherlock said. “You’re using her for your own ends. You don’t care. You can’t care. You aren’t called the Iceman for no reason at all. No one can thaw you down. You have no heart, no feelings. You’re nothing but a block of ice masquerading as a man.”
Molly could see that Mycroft was getting upset as Sherlock got closer. “Sherlock, stop,” she said.
He ignored her. “You ridiculed me for my tendency to have goldfish, and then you take one out from under my nose. I won’t let you, Mycroft. I won’t let you play her for a pawn as you do everyone you ever meet. I won’t let you break her heart and use her for whatever grand plan you have in your head. Molly deserves far better than that. She deserves far better than you.”
Mycroft was gripping the stems of the lilies with both hands at that point and he snapped them in half as Sherlock spoke. Molly decided enough was enough at that point. “Get out, Sherlock.”
Sherlock blinked. “What?” he asked, sounding slightly confused.
“You heard me. When you can be civil to your brother and you can respect the fact I’m not an empty headed naïve twit who doesn’t know what she’s getting into, then you can be in my presence again. But I know what I’m getting into, Sherlock. I don’t think Mycroft has any grand plans to use me for. I don’t think he’s going to break my heart. And if you were really my friend, you’d trust my judgment a little bit more. So, until you can…get out.” He stared at her a moment, then swept around the two of them and made his way out of the morgue.
At that point Molly turned her attentions to Mycroft. She could see he was still angry, and so she gently placed her hand on his and squeezed it gently. When that got his attention and he turned to face her, she caressed his face with her other hand and then leaned in to kiss him softly. After a moment he kissed her back. When she pulled away he looked down at the bouquet. “I’m sorry about the flowers,” he said quietly.
She gently took them from him and examined them. “I have a squat little vase at home I can put them in,” she said, giving him a warm smile. “I have to put the bodies away and I still have to get ready, so you have a bit of a wait, but I’ll try not to take too long.”
She moved away to put the flowers in her office but he reached over for her. “Did you mean what you said?” he asked.
She nodded. “Yes, Mycroft. Every word.”
He settled a hand on her hip for a moment. “I suppose Sherlock has every right to feel the way he does. I’ve told him, time and again, that it’s foolish and dangerous to form attachments. And yet here I am, forming one with you, one that means a great deal to me.”
“Yes, but he doesn’t have the right to be an arse about it,” she said. She reached up with her free hand to caress his face again. “I don’t think you’re using me, Mycroft, and I don’t think you’ll purposefully hurt me. Just…make sure you don’t and we’ll be fine.”
He nodded and then pulled her closer for another kiss. She leaned into him, relaxing into it, and when he pulled away he looked down at her. “Would you be amenable to a change of plans? I find I’d prefer an evening in tonight.”
“We can do an evening out another time,” she said with a smile. “Why don’t we go to my flat and have takeaway and watch a film? I’m sure we can find something we can agree on.”
“That sounds good,” he said. “I’ll make it up to you at a later date, I promise.”
“It’s all right, Mycroft,” she said. “The important thing is I spend time with you. It doesn’t really matter to me where.” She gave him another quick kiss on the lips before pulling away to go to her office. That was true, she realized; they were still trying to get to know each other to the level that significant others did, but she knew as long as she got to spend time with him somewhere where they could talk, where they could continue to have the wonderful conversations they had been having, she would be content with just about anything they could plan on doing.
She just hoped, one day, his brother would be all right with that fact.