A mysterious woman shows up in London to speak with Sherlock Holmes about her case. She is determined to find her birth parents after finding out her life had been determined by a very specific fateful day up to this point. As she gets to know Sherl...
The rain sprinkles down as the sound of clunking heels and the scraping roll of a suitcase is drowned out by the rest of the crowd exiting the tube stairwell onto the street. A young woman with medium-length dirty blonde hair and blue eyes shuffles through the foot traffic, making her way through the busy London sidewalk. The only possessions she has on her person are a brown satchel purse and a smallish suitcase. She's wearing a pale blue high-neck top with ruffle detailing, dark wash distressed jeans, and nude chunky heels.
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Still confused as to how she is going to start some semblance of a life in this big city as compared to her smaller village back in Ireland, she wanders a few blocks, ducking under awnings when possible, to avoid the rain. Of course, she had packed her umbrella and wasn't about to go digging through her suitcase for it in the middle of the street.
Wondering to herself where she will end up for the night, or even until she can find a decent place within her very limited budget, she sighs to herself, once again doubting if this change of scenery was worth it.
Though one thing she knows for certain: she has to find somewhere to stay long-term, she has to get a job, and she MUST find out the truth about her real family. Tapping in the address of the famous detective in her phone, she follows her GPS hoping that he will be there.
After realizing that her parents were not really her parents a few months ago, she had dove into finding out who her real parents were and if they had wanted her. She even went as far as speaking to the records clerk in the hospital that she was born in, which turned up quite a lot of consequential information. Some may call it a coincidence of pure fate, as everything had to align just right for what had happened to her, to happen. Putting everything she knows right now together; it all seems true. However, she still would like an expert to help her figure it all out. That's where Sherlock Holmes comes in.
Arriving at the doors to 221B, a brightly colored flyer catches her eye on the window of the adjoining café. {Now Hiring. Inquire Inside}. Her life is never short of coincidences it seems, but this just happened to be a pretty good one. Deciding to enter the café, she sees a few bakers in the kitchen from her view from the door, and there's a petite middle-aged woman sitting at the counter. Lucky for her it was Saturday afternoon, and it looks like the lunch rush had died off already.
"Um e-excuse me? I er...I saw the flyer on the window. You're hiring?", she asks shyly, approaching the brunette woman at the counter.
Molly smiles softly at the younger woman's Irish brogue, immediately recognizing that she must be a new resident or even a university student. "Yes, we are! I'd be glad to give you an application. I'm looking for a manager slash cashier for this place. My dear older friend passed away recently; she was the owner. I inherited the café, but I have quite a demanding job, so I can't be here constantly. I'm looking for someone who would love this place as much as she did. I don't want it to just be a job that you dread for money. Do you have any managerial or restaurant experience?"
"Oh, well, I was a manager at a pub back in Dublin. I'd worked there since graduating Uni. So I know a bit about the food business, and what it entails. I'm sorry about your friend. She must have loved this place; it looks like it's been here a while."
"Nearly twenty years. Martha was a ray of sunshine. She owned the flats next door as well". Molly replies, handing her an application happily.
"Those flats? So then she must have known Sherlock Holmes?"
"Ahh, so you're here for Sherlock?"
A faint blush creeps up the girl's face and she chews her lip. "Yes, actually. I'm thinking of moving to London. It's a long, complicated story but I think my birth mother was from Cardiff, and I came here to sort of explore my roots. I've been looking into my birth parents, and I think Sherlock Holmes might be able to further my search with his connections."
"That sounds nice. I'm sure he could. You're adopted then?"
"Something like that...like I said, long story."
"Well, there's no shortage of mystery around here. Just a warning, if you do apply and get the job, Sherlock isn't always the friendliest. The guys in the kitchen flip flop between being on good terms with him as well so...if you can handle a group of grumpy men, you're hired."
She chuckles and nods. "I had to handle many drunkards at the pub, I don't think a few bakers and a snarky detective will scare me off so easily. I can hold my own."
"I have no doubt you can", Molly grins.
Filling out the application, she looks up at Molly curiously. "So, you know Sherlock personally then?"
Molly blushes and smiles. "You could say that. Ugh, how rude am I, not introducing myself? I'm Molly. Molly Hooper. Also, Sherlock's girlfriend. Though he hates that label", she snorts.
"Wow, girlfriend? I've done some research on him, never struck me as the type of guy who'd go for that sort of thing."
"Believe me, he wasn't always. We've known each other for ages. Oh, I didn't ask your name."
The young woman smiles and hands Molly her filled-out application. "Rachel O'Laughlin. Nice to meet your acquaintance, Ms. Hooper."
"You as well, Ms. O'Laughlin. Why don't you stay here, and I'll go on up and see if Sherlock can handle some company right now."
"That would be wonderful, thank you."
"You're very welcome."
Molly heads up the stairs and into 221B, smiling at the scene. Sherlock is sitting in his chair, hands steepled under his chin in his thinking position. He stays like that for a moment before cracking an eye open to look at her cutely.
"Yesss?"
"Sorry, I just need to talk to you. Are you busy?"
Sherlock immediately looks on edge and sits up straight, giving her his full attention. "Oh no, that's a phrase John told me to watch out for. Am I in trouble? What did I do this time? Is it about Toby?"
"What? No", she giggles. "We're fine, I promise", she grins, leaning over and giving him a soft kiss. "What a minute...what about Toby??"
Sherlock's eyes shift guiltily. "Oh, nothing, nothing. So what did you need?", he asks, brushing off her question.
She sits in her new yellow chair that Sherlock had purchased for his flat. His reasoning being that if his best friend has a chair, his girlfriend should as well.
"There's a girl downstairs, seems to be in her early twenties. She's applying for Mrs. Hudson's position. She's very polite and is moving here from a small town in Ireland, she's even got the brogue to go with it. Anyway, she says she has a case for you. It's regarding her identity, her birth family. I think she was adopted. "
Sherlock groans dramatically. "You know I hate ancestry and adoption cases, Molly."
"I know, but if she's going to work here, you'll be seeing her around and I think that it would be nice for you to make an exception, just this once?"
He looks at her skeptically and raises an eyebrow. "Hm...is there...any incentive for me to take this case?"
Molly laughs and gets up, sitting on his lap and draping her arms around his neck. "Ohh...I'm sure I can think of something to make it very much worth your while, Mr. Holmes", she leans in and murmurs in his ear.
His eyes widen and he nods. "Alright, consider the case taken. Send her up...though I wish you didn't have to leave right now."
"I know, but we have tonight and as many other nights as you choose, hm?"
"I supposeee", he whines softly and in a childlike way.
Molly giggles and kisses him lovingly. "Mm...I'll see you soon, ok?"
