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“John, I have a question for you,” Sherlock said one evening, roughly three months after he had started really having a friendship with Molly. He was standing by the window, violin tucked under his chin, as he stared out the window to the street below. It was dark, and there were few people out because of the rain.
“All right,” John said from the kitchen. “Ask away.”
“How do you know if you are ready to pursue a romantic relationship with someone?” he asked quietly.
“That depends, I suppose,” he said.
“On what?”
“How long you’ve known the other person, how well you know them…I guess if there’s a spark. There should be something inside that tells you ‘this is the person I want to be with.’ You’ll know it if you’ve felt it.” He paused in making the dinner. “Why do you want to know, anyway?”
Sherlock paused. He didn’t want to tell John he was reconsidering exactly what type of relationship he wanted with Molly. He still wasn’t sure, and while he was positive his friend would be nothing but supportive he also didn’t want to be fussed over if things did not go well. “I’ve wondered what my cousin saw in Irene, that’s all.”
“Other than the fact that she is highly attractive, they have history on their side,” John mused. “They grew up together and were friends as children. They’ve found each other again twice now, and the feelings never left after their second separation. I suppose they’ve loved each other for a long time.”
“What do you do if you don’t think the other person feels the same way? I mean, Sherlock didn’t think Irene loved him, and he walked away and was miserable.”
“But in a way he was a coward. He didn’t tell her he loved her. He just left.” He paused. “Sally said he did the same thing with her.”
“How did that came up in casual conversation?” Sherlock asked, surprised. He set his violin down and went into the kitchen. “She doesn’t usually talk about it.”
“I heard her mention something offhandedly and I asked,” John said with a shrug. “All these years later and she still hates him. No wonder you two were rocky from the start. It must sting to have to work with someone who has the same name as the man who hurt you so badly, and to find out they’re related? That just makes it worse.”
“I suppose that might have been a factor in our animosity towards each other,” Sherlock said after thinking a moment. “I didn’t know the whole story until after New York, however. Neither of them talked about it while he was here in London. I just knew they couldn’t stand to be in the same room together.”
“Well, I suppose the only way that they’ll be in the same room is if there’s a cross-jurisdictional case,” John said. “I think your cousin is fairly settled in New York now.”
Sherlock nodded. “Irene moved in with him and Joan last week. It took some time because there was a lot of coordinating to do, and she had to find someone to put the house on the real estate market, but it was made official on Monday.”
“Yeah, I know,” John said with a grin. “My cousin talks to me just like your cousin talks to you. She really likes Irene. I guess Irene didn’t have any friends in New York, and she considers Joan to be one now.”
Sherlock frowned. “When I saved her life I didn’t expect she’d become a hermit.”
“Well, she had no clue who was still after her, I think. It’s a logical assumption to make that at least a few enemies would not believe she’s dead.”
“True. I hadn’t thought of that.” Sherlock looked around. “I’m going to make a phone call in my room. How long do you think it will be until dinner is ready?”
“At least forty minutes,” John said. “Maybe an hour. I just started.”
Sherlock nodded. “I’ll be finished by then.” With that, he went towards his room. He supposed he could call his cousin and ask him his opinion on the same topic he had been talking about with John, but if his cousin even thought he might be interested in a romantic relationship with a woman he might not be as supportive as John. He was close to his cousin now, but he knew Holmes would find a reason to tease, and he didn’t want that.
Calling Molly herself was not out of the question, but if he ended up deciding against pursuing a relationship with her he didn’t want to get her hopes raised and then dashed. If that happened he might very well lose his friendship with her, and that worried him. She was a good friend, at least as good as John. He didn’t want her angry at him if he told her he thought he might like to date her and then suddenly changed his mind. He didn’t want to lose her. He needed to think, and think hard. This decision could mean a definite shift in how his life was, and he needed to carefully weigh each option to make an informed decision, and he needed to do it without any outside help.
--
“He’ll never like me the way I like him,” Molly said glumly. It had been nearly three months since Sherlock had returned from New York, and while she was happy he was actively trying to be her friend, the closer they got the more miserable she became. It would have been one thing if she didn’t fancy him. She would have enjoyed his friendship tremendously, having few friends besides him. But she did fancy him, and knowing he looked at her as nothing more than a friend made her heart ache every time she spent time with him.
Her drinking buddy for the night shook her head. “I never understood why you fancied Sherlock Holmes,” Sally said. “Up until he came back from faking his death I always considered him a human robot. I mean, he’s changed quite a bit, I’ll admit that, but not enough to have any romantic feelings for.” She took a sip of her beer. “You’re just torturing yourself, Molly. Cut your losses and walk away. That’s my advice.”
“But that’s the problem. If I didn’t fancy him so damn much, he’d be a great friend. I like spending time with him. I’ve even made him smile a few times.”
Sally lowered her pint glass. “An honest to God smile? Not that fake one he plasters on his face that he thinks fools everyone?”
Molly nodded. “He actually has quite a nice smile,” she said. “When you get to see the real thing you see his whole face light up, and…I don’t know. Seeing him with a real smile on his face warms my heart, I guess. Makes me remember he has feelings he doesn’t share very often.”
“He shares them with you, maybe. With the rest of the world he’s still a bit removed.” Sally shrugged. “Why do you do it to yourself? Why do you stick around when you only know it’s going to get worse?”
Molly looked at her. “Have you always been such a cynic?” she asked.
“Since I dated his cousin years ago,” Sally said with a nod.
“And how long ago was that?” Molly asked, her eyes wide.
“I was eighteen. We were together for nearly a year.”
Molly whistled soundlessly. “That’s a long time to hold a grudge.”
“Yes, well, he broke my heart. I never got over that. I just kept going after men who hurt me in the end. Philip is just the latest example.”
Molly nodded. She knew all about Sally’s relationship with Anderson through the gossip, about how he wouldn’t leave his wife for her and she broke it off. As far as Molly knew, she hadn’t dated anyone since. She and Sally weren’t particularly close, but they’d been thrown together more frequently the last few months, and tonight was an opportunity to get to know the other woman. Now she was starting to wonder if she really knew Sally Donovan at all. “I’m sorry.”
“You shouldn’t be. I’m the one that picks the bloody wankers out,” Sally said with a shrug. “It’s my own damn fault, I suppose.”
“You should date a nice bloke,” Molly said.
“Are there any left?” Sally asked, a humorless smile on her face.
Molly thought for a moment. “John Watson is single.”
“Me? Date Sherlock’s best mate?” Sally said, barking out a slightly harsh laugh. “That’s mental.”
“But he is one of the nicer men in London. He wouldn’t hurt you,” Molly pointed out.
“Yeah. All I’d have to worry about is Sherlock Holmes sabotaging yet another one of his friend’s relationships. Thank you, but no. I’ve only recently gotten to the point where I actually like him. I don’t want to have a reason to go back to hating him.” She took a sip of her beer, and then slowly lowered her drink. “Though…”
“What?” Molly asked before taking a sip of her beer.
“Maybe if you ask Sherlock out and I ask John out we’d stand a chance of the relationships working.”
Molly nearly choked on her beer. “Me? Ask Sherlock out? Oh, that would be a great way to kill the friendship I have with him.”
“You can’t be a chicken shit forever. If it ruins your friendship it wasn’t a good friendship to begin with,” Sally pointed out. Then she sighed. “Don’t turn out like me, Molly. It’s not a good life.”
“I’m just going to stop thinking about him like that,” Molly said. “I just need to convince myself to stop having any more than friendly feelings for Sherlock Holmes. I can do that. It won’t be that hard.”
Sally reached over and clapped a hand on Molly’s shoulder. “Keep telling yourself that, Molly.” She looked at her nearly empty glass. “Want to go for round three?”
Molly finished off her pint and nodded. “And maybe we can change the subject while we’re at it.”
“I’ll go get us fresh pints,” Sally said as she stood up. “And then we can find something else to talk about other than man problems. I’ll be right back.” She took Molly’s glass and headed towards the bar.
Molly watched, then looked at her empty hands and sighed. If things didn’t change soon, her friendship with Sherlock was going to wither and die all on its own. She needed to find a way to convince herself to stomp down on her silly little crush and fast before she lost him for good. It was the only way to stay his friend, she knew that, even if it broke her heart into a thousand pieces.
Her phone went off, and she looked at the text message. It was from Sherlock. I was thinking we could have lunch tomorrow.
She started to reply without really thinking. All right. What time?
Noon, unless you’re busy with work.
I have tomorrow off. Where do you want to meet?
The deli next to my home. I would like to continue our last conversation.
She smiled slightly. She had been telling him about her most unusual autopsies, and he had been riveted. She had a few more stories she could share. Sure. I have a few more stories to tell. See you tomorrow at noon. She put her phone away, and then the smile dropped to a frown. Who was she kidding? She was never going to get over that man. That was like asking Hell to freeze over. If she wasn’t careful, she’d lose it all, and she didn’t want to do that. Tonight the infatuation would stop. It had to.