[Sherlolly fanfiction] Silhouettes

Chapter 18-- Onwards

(MOLLY'S POV)
(ONE WEEK LATER)

The poster is in his desk drawer, it never comes out. He has a calendar on the wall, and he'll cross off each day, but apart from that, he doesn't let it bother him. Well, he pretends it doesn't bother him.

Of course, we're still together. We need to get through this together. To be honest, we haven't changed one bit; our relationship is just how it was before we found the poster.

I am not sad about this because next year seems like such a long way away, and we can't waste time worrying because that'll just rob us of what we have now.
And so, we continue our lives because we have them at the moment. We continue our life together and, despite the poster, I cannot fault what we have.

The morning starts just like any other; he wakes before me, checks his inbox for cases, I wake up, I ask if he has checked his inbox, he tells me he has, I ask 'if there's anything worth his valuable time' and, if there is, he shows me.

"Emilia Brooks, 31 years, she was at a business party with her fiancé. They went into the grounds, that was the last time she was seen alive. Her fiancé said that she collapsed in front of him, he ran to get help and when he came back she was dead."
"Good morning to you too." I yawn, walking into the kitchen.
"Would you like to go see?"
"Try not to use the word 'like' to describe the death of a young woman, Sherlock." I remind him.
"But would you?"
"It's definitely a day out." I admit with a smile as I thumb down the switch on the kettle.

After a few minutes Toby emerges from our bedroom. I watch him stretch, nudging the door with his backside, before continuing to his bowl of food.
I frown. "How long has Toby been in our room?"
"All night. I heard him knock over your glass of water."
"Oh, that explains so much. I wondered who has licking my feet at three in the morning."
I crouch and pet Toby as he eats his food. He's almost just like he was again and we're both keeping a close eye on Mrs Hudson, incase she sneaks in to feed him left-overs.
I return to the kitchen and continue making our tea. "How do you think this Emilia girl died?"
"There's no obvious wounds that could be seen, apparently. My first instinct would be  to suspect poisoning, I suppose."
"How delightful." I mutter sarcastically as the kettle hums and gargles the water, pushing cascades of steam from its spout.
I pour the water over the teabag and let it brew.

He turns on his seat to look at me. "You had a nightmare last night."
I pause, looking at the wall before I continue, "People do." I say in a jokey manner, trying to stay positive, "People have nightmares."
"I'm not trying to impose on your personal thoughts," he reassures me, "I just want to know if you're alright, that's all."
I pick up the cups and turn, "I am now." I step over Toby and place Sherlock's tea on the table next to him. "Anyway, Toby probably triggered it by licking my feet. That's fairly terrifying in its own little way." He smiles and thanks me as he closes his laptop and I return to the kitchen to fetch myself some cereal.
"So, she was poisoned?" I ask.
"It's a possibility."
I smile slightly and shake my head.
"What?"
I glance over my shoulder. "I won't be much help. If you're struggling with it, there's no chance for me. If I came I'd just weigh you down." I shrug.
After a moment or two, he stands and begins to walk towards me. "You're good with children, I saw you with Scarlet."
I turn and look at him, confused with what he is hinting at.
He continues, "You're natural with them, which is just what is needed."
Now I am incredibly confused. "Right...." I begin.
"If you can cope with screaming children and control them, you'll be able to cope with Lestrade's officers and I really do need you because I am not in the correct mindset for moody, obnoxious children."
I laugh. "Right. Of course." Now I feel a little embarrassed for what I thought he was saying. The worst bit is, I was actually hoping he was going to say it. Does that mean....I'd be ready for....that, to be a....parent? Surly thinking about that would be an outrageously demented thought? And yet....I had tiny flicker of hope.