Queen of the Mind Palace // Sherlolly ✔️

Chapter 8

Sherlock kept his eyes closed when he heard the door open and close when Molly left. But he couldn't help but peer at his closed door when the door opened and closed again, followed by a set of light footsteps making their way towards where Gael undoubtedly sat at the table getting soup everywhere. He strained to hear voices talking outside, yet he could tell for a fact Sawyer had come back inside. Good, wouldn't want her freezing to death. Sherlock reluctantly swung his legs off the bed and stood, shaking away the dizziness.

He made his way out to the kitchen, seeing Sawyer sitting across from Gael, stabbing at a box of lo mein. She looked up at him briefly, though almost immediately looking back down at her food.

"Your table is a mess," she said to him. Sherlock scanned the table, sure enough most of his stuff had been pushed to the side to make way for the food.

Sherlock shrugged, "that's the point."

He was going to go see what Molly had ordered him, most likely something he disliked greatly, when his phone buzzed. Sherlock looked down at it. A text from Molly.

No updates on the pollen. ~MH

He sighed, looking in the living room where his microscope sat on his desk. Sherlock's mind was whirring when suddenly he blinked.

"Why did you come inside?" He asked, turning towards Sawyer. The girl looked up at him and shrugged.

"Molly told me to. I figured I owed it to her." Sherlock's eyebrows raised. He turned back to the window.

Admittedly, Molly had been a big help. Though Sherlock was more like Sawyer, understood her more, it had been Molly who would bring up the points that kept Sawyer from strangling Sherlock. Perhaps he didn't give her enough credit. Though she had recognized Sawyer's weak spot before him. Sherlock shook the thought out of his mind, though still it itched at the back of his brain. Finally Sherlock sighed and turned back to Sawyer. The girl paused mid-chew and looked at him expectantly.

A mischievous grin spread across Sherlock's face,"hurry up and finish eating," he told them, "I need your guys' help with something."

~~~

Molly wasn't concentrated the whole day. All while she cut up cadavers and delivered labs her mind found its way to Sherlock, Sawyer, and Gael. Sherlock's eyes when he looked at Gael, Gael's face when he woke in the flat. Sawyer just being... Sawyer. Molly couldn't figure out what it was. Something itched in her fingers and clawed at her mind, something Molly couldn't yet identify. Yet as she tiredly closed up her last body of the day, Molly realized with a start what had been gnawing at her mind.

Molly found herself longing to return to 221B Baker Street. To Sherlock and his unexplainable eyes. Gael and the happy-go-lucky air about him and his excessive innocence. Sawyer's snarky attitude. Molly decided to stop by the flat, just for a check up.

So, naturally, what Molly did not expect as she made her way up the steps to 221B Baker Street was to hear meowing. Familiar meowing. Oh no, Molly thought with a groan as she hurriedly unlocked the door and rushed up the stairs to the flat. Sure enough, the first sight she came across upon racing up the flat was Gael carefully stroking a familiar orange tabby.

"T-Toby?" Molly sputtered. Sherlock suddenly came into view, sipping coffee.

"Oh! Hello Molly."

"Sherlock why is my cat-" Molly froze when a sudden thought struck her. "Sherlock," Molly seethed threateningly before dropping her bag and sprinting towards Sherlock's room. She tore open the drawers and- sure enough- her clothes had replaced Sherlock's, folded neatly in small stacks. Molly slammed the drawers shut and stomped out of Sherlock's room, storming up to him and jabbing a finger at his chest.