These Days

Polite Interrogation

    "Hello Mr. Watson!" said a sweet voice above him. John looked up to see a lady that looked very familiar, but he just couldn't place the face.
"Oh, hello..." John muttered, trying not to be rude about his lack of facial recognition.
"I'm Molly Hooper, I work at Rose Grove." She pointed out. Oh no, this might complicate things a bit.
"Oh, yes, sorry, hello Mrs. Hooper." John agreed, shaking her hand from where he sat. Apparently John couldn't recognize her without her candy corn outfit on.
"I see you're taking advantage of this brilliant weather as well." Molly decided.
"I wouldn't call it brilliant, more convenient for getting a day off." John shrugged.
"I can't argue there." Molly agreed. She sat down in Sherlock's seat, sipping her own cup of steaming whatever it was, with a large orange and brown scarf tied firmly around her neck. John could just tell the moment that she saw Sherlock it would be a bit controversial, they didn't seem to be enemies, but Sherlock never really said anything about being a friend to this woman.
"So, what do you do for a living then?" Molly asked.
"Oh, I'm a construction manager, which is quite a low demand job in the winter." John shrugged, gesturing to the window.
"Yes, I can see how that could be problematic." Molly agreed.
"Here John, and don't even think about..." Sherlock's words were cut off when he looked to his seat, which, of course, was occupied. Molly looked a little bit dumbstruck to see Sherlock, but it was nothing compared to the pure look of fear on Sherlock's beautiful face.
"Mr. Holmes!" Molly said, not bothering to hide her tone of shock.
"Mrs. Hooper, what a surprise to see you here, in my seat." Sherlock muttered.
"Oh, sorry." Molly rushed out of the chair, but Sherlock made no move to sit back down. He handed John the coffee ever so discretely, as if Molly might suspect their true intentions. Sherlock sat down in the chair and glanced at John and then back to Molly, to Molly, to John, as if trying to decide what he should do in this panicked moment.
"So, uh, Sherlock, what are you doing here exactly?" Molly asked.
"We just ran into each other." John said.
"Business meeting." Sherlock said as well, at the exact same time. Molly nodded slowly, obviously not buying either story for a second.
"Well, I was on a business meeting, with some other parent that had the day off, and then I ran into Mr. Watson." Sherlock shrugged, with a very good poker face. Leave it to John to say something and mess everything up. The way Sherlock was acting, it was normal. Any old person you'd meet from work would just think they were friends; there was no reason to just shrug and say they were getting coffee together. Why was this Mrs. Hooper any different?
"Oh, I see." Molly decided. No she didn't.
"Quite a snowstorm out there huh?" John asked, looking through the window to see the snowflakes being tossed around by the wind. The gale could be slightly heard in a moment of silence in the coffee shop, along with the slow jazz music or whatever it was playing from the speakers.
"Yes, but I live right up the road, it's easy to walk here when the sidewalks are shoveled." Molly shrugged.
"Consider yourself lucky, I had to walk at least a mile." John sighed.
"Why not just make coffee at home?" Molly asked.
"It's more the space I enjoy here, the peace a quiet that you just don't get with a second grader running around all day." John shrugged. Sherlock smiled briefly, but still didn't say a word, as if anything he said would irritate Mrs. Hooper in some way.
"Well, when it's cold out nothing beats warm coffee." Molly said with a smile.
"Nothing indeed." John agreed. Wrong. Sherlock beat anything anytime anywhere. Just by simply being alive he was better than life itself.
"I'm surprised it snowed so early, I mean I knew it was getting colder but I didn't really expect it." Molly shrugged.
"Are you complaining?" John asked with a smile.
"Well, it does cut into the summer." Molly shrugged.
"At least you get summer off." John pointed out. "That's our busiest time of the year."
"Yes well, teaching does have its advantages. What do you do?" Molly asked.
"I'm a construction manager, I just yell at big sweaty guys all day." John shrugged.
"Maybe that's why you can stand Sherlock so much." Molly guessed. Sherlock didn't seem fazed, just a little bit annoyed at Molly's presence.
"Ya well, Sherlock's not nearly as intimidating, he's small and smells like perfume. Much better than a construction worker, who could easily kill me with a hammer if they wanted to." John shrugged.
"Perfume?" Sherlock asked, looking offended.
"Cologne." John corrected. Sherlock simply glared at him, trying to pass multiple messages through his green eyes. Neither of them had touched their coffee yet.
"Well, if one of my kids gets mad I suppose they could impale me with a pencil, but I don't think they're tall enough to kill me." Molly shrugged. She really was a great conversationalist, she kept things interesting, made jokes, and was overall pleasant, but right now she was a wall between them, and Sherlock seemed absolutely terrified that she was there.
"So are you two friends from work?" John asked. Even if he wanted her to, he knew that Molly wasn't going anywhere, so he might as well keep the conversation normal. No awkward silences shall be bestowed upon them.
"Well, I guess you could say that. I talk at him most of the time, and he doesn't always tell me to go away, so that's something I suppose." Molly shrugged. "Honestly I'm surprised he didn't just leave when he saw a familiar face."
"I am right here you know." Sherlock snapped, looking fairly annoyed at her ignorance.
"Yes, but considering that you're not impacting the conversation in any way you might as well be a piece of furniture." John pointed out.
"That would make life a lot easier I suppose." Sherlock sighed. Molly laughed a little bit, but John knew Sherlock well enough to know that it was no joke.
"So you had a meeting?" Molly asked.
"Yes." Sherlock sighed.
"Parent?"
"Yes."
"Wouldn't it just be easier to talk over the phone?" Molly asked.
"Well yes, I suppose so, but I had the grading sheets and everything, for the kid's scores and stuff, they were dropping dramatically." Sherlock sighed. John had to admit, he was a good liar. For a moment John almost believed him as well.
"I don't see any papers." Molly decided.
"Is this an interrogation?" Sherlock sighed.
"No, of course not." Molly assured. There was a bit of silence, and John just tapped his fingers against his now cold cup of coffee, wondering if he should start some sort of conversation, but there didn't seem to be all that much to talk about.
"So, you're Hamish's father right?" Molly asked.
"That's me." John agreed.
"He must be really excited about school being canceled." Molly guessed.
"You have no idea." John laughed. "That's why I came here."
"Well, I used to love the snow; the phone call was always heaven's bells ringing upon me. I still play in the snow now even, go sledding." Molly shrugged.
"I play with Hamish when I can, but not by myself. Do you have any children?" John asked.
"No, still a single Pringle." Molly said with a laugh.
"Well, enjoy the freedom while you can." John insisted.
"Oh, I think children are miracles, I just love them." Molly assured. Sherlock just snorted, looking very disbelieving.
"Have anything to say Sherlock?" Molly asked with an exasperated sigh.
"Children are no miracle." Sherlock decided.
"Says the second grade teacher." John pointed out.
"I only bear with the children so I don't have to deal with the adults they would've become." Sherlock insisted.
"A true passion." Molly muttered.
"It's beat up on Sherlock day I suppose?" Sherlock asked.
"The semi-annual event." John agreed. Molly just laughed, looking like she felt a little bad for picking on him, but not nearly enough to stop. Sherlock checked his watch, looking a bit annoyed, as if trying to send Molly a clear sign to leave.
"Well, I suppose we should get some lunch." Sherlock decided. John nodded, seeing as it was nearly noon.
"Sounds good." John decided.
"Not here, of course, all they've got is tiny pita sandwiches." Sherlock said, as if they were the most ridiculous things he could think of.
"I like their sandwiches." Molly defended.
"Well, you're you." Sherlock pointed out. Molly just sighed, as if she was used to hearing that from him.
"Well, it's been nice seeing you two, I suppose I'll get out of your way now." Molly decided.
"Go eat a pita sandwich and leave me alone." Sherlock agreed.
"Sherlock!" John hissed, but Molly just sighed.
"Don't even bother Mr. Watson, it's part of his charm." Molly sighed, rolling her eyes.
"It was nice meeting you, officially I mean, and I hope you enjoy the rest of your day off." John decided.
"You as well. Bye Sherlock." Molly agreed, waving sarcastically. Sherlock just rolled his eyes and pulled on his coat, tossing his cup of untouched coffee in the trash. John put on his coat as well, smiling to Molly as the two of them walked outside into the brisk air, spitting away snowflakes as they walked.
"Well she was nice." John decided.
"Inconvenient." Sherlock agreed.
"Why was she so suspicious? Because you were right, she was totally interrogating you." John agreed.
"That's certainly a story." Sherlock sighed.
"That I'd like to hear." John agreed. Sherlock sighed, looking behind them to make sure Molly wasn't following.
"I showed up late on the day that there was a bit of a hiccup in our relationship, I had overslept, and she confronted me about it." Sherlock started.
"You didn't tell her..." John interrupted.
"Let me finish. I only told her I had a rough night, and she asked me if it were relationship issues, and that she could help. And at the moment a little boy walked in and told her, and I quote, "Not to bother because Mr. Holmes is in love with a man."" Sherlock sighed.
"That must be a little bit difficult to worm your way out of." John decided.
"So of course, she picked that day to eat lunch with me and the silence was too awkward, so I just told her to ask me and I confessed that I was, indeed, in love with a man." Sherlock admitted. His cheeks were red, but John couldn't decide if that were just the wind hitting him or the embarrassment of retelling the story.
"You are, are you?" John asked with a teasing little smile.
"I better not let you meet him, things might get ugly." Sherlock decided, and John just laughed, knowing he was joking. After sweeping around the sidewalk with his eyes, John trapped Sherlock's hand mid swing, interlocking their cold hands together and walking in step with him. He could feel Sherlock tense up at the touch, but he was starting to get used to it, walking closer to John and coordinating their arm swings together. There were no words spoken, but there really didn't need to be, and the hand that Sherlock held was ring free. There should be no spark of memory that Mary even existed, when John was with Sherlock she had never been born. It was just he and Sherlock, facing the world together, hand in hand, never to let go.
"So, where to eat?" Sherlock asked, looking around the street corners and trying to keep his voice down, as if someone were watching them and taking note of their every move.
"I don't care." John shrugged.
"Me neither." Sherlock agreed.
"The annual niceness battle." John sighed. "Well, burgers are always good."
"Yes, I suppose they are." Sherlock agreed.
"There's that Burger Barn down here a little bit." John suggested.
"They are good." Sherlock agreed.
"So there?" John asked.
"Sounds good." Sherlock nodded. They walked a little while, close together to conserve what little body heat they had, both shivering on the outside, but since their hands were together they were glowing with happiness inside. John was just constantly on the lookout, they only had to run into the mail man and he could blow the whole thing, but the streets were fairly deserted and the two weren't faced with too much of an issue. They made it to the restaurant without issue, into the restaurant and placed their order. It was kind of an order and call sort of thing, so Sherlock and John sat in a booth, munching on the complementary peanuts and waiting for the order to be called. The restaurant was very bright, with white walls and large windows to let in the reflecting sun off of the snow. 

"So, anyone else I should know to avoid?" John asked.
"What do you mean?" Sherlock asked, smashing a peanut in half on the corner of the table since he couldn't seem to pry it open. He looked like a little monkey.
"Who else knows about, well, us, or even you." John asked.
"No one. Anyone know on your end of it?" Sherlock asked.
"I haven't told anyone, but I'm always tiptoeing around Hamish." John shrugged.
"I don't think I even apologized properly for that, leading them on so well, and not being careful enough. I shouldn't have jeopardized everything." Sherlock decided.
"Honestly Sherlock, I don't care. It was as much my fault as yours, but I know that we did a good job of cleaning it all up. Forgive and forget I suppose." John shrugged.
"Well, I'm having a hard time forgetting, considering all Hamish and Archie do is stare at me and whisper." Sherlock groaned.
"Then tell them to quit it, you're the teacher, lay down the law." John suggested with a little laugh. Sherlock just grinned, but didn't look too convinced.
"That would just scream guilty." He decided.
"What do you think they even know? They're in second grade, for all they know two guys can't even look at each other in that way." John pointed out.
"Archie knows, although he calls it something really stupid."
"Something with hippos right?" John asked. Sherlock laughed, and nodded.
"So Hamish told you the story?" Sherlock asked.
"Ya, he did. And, I just remembered, when I told him there was nothing between us he was actually disappointed." John pointed out.
"Why would he be disappointed?" Sherlock asked.
"He said that he'd love to have you as a dad, that it would be really fun." John pointed out. Sherlock blushed, but smiled as well.
"I think I'd be horrible as a father." He admitted.

"Can I be the one to judge once and for all?" John asked. Sherlock blushed even more, looking like a flustered teenage girl. He was just so amazingly perfect that there were no words to describe him, just some angel that wondered out of heaven only to giggle and blush at complements. Unfortunately their number was called, and John raced to get it before Sherlock could get up, since he had paid for the coffee. It was John's idea to secretly pay for the food, but Sherlock had made sure his plans were foiled.