The Child of Zeus

Nonetheless a Dream Come True

"You really don't have to stay Sherlock." Molly insisted for umpteenth time as they came up to the door of her flat. He stopped in front of her and swung around to face her. 

"Yes, I do." He replied.

"I'll be fine, I will, I-I'm sure of it. Really, it's just some stitches. It's nothing." He grabbed her hand in his own, then clasped his other around their entwined fingers. 

"I'm staying, Molly. Now unlock your door." Without any further protest she walked around the consulting detective blocking her way and shoved the key into the door. 

"It's a little messy, had I known I was going to have, you know, have company. I… I-I would've tidied up a bit." Molly managed to stammer out while she frantically put various things into their rightful places.

"It's no big deal, you should see the inside of my flat."

"Okay." Molly replied without thinking. She made eye contact with him and he smiled and let out a small laugh. Immediately she could feel the colour flooding her cheeks. So she stopped cleaning and sat down on the couch. She watched Sherlock's eyes flicker about the room, which made her extremely uncomfortable. She knew that his brain was making hundreds of deductions about her and most them were probably quite right. "Do you, I mean only if you like, you don't have to of course, I mean it was only a suggestion, oh you know what? Never mind."

"No, what is it Molly?" And his eyes stopped flying about from place to place and focused on her as he came to sit down beside her. 

"Would you like to watch a movie or something?"

"I'd be delighted." He said with a new smile. Not his usual I'm-smiling-to-be-kind-of-polite smile, a warm I'd-honestly-be-delighted-to-sit-down-and-watch-a-film-with-you-Molly-Hooper smile. They sat there for the longest 10 seconds of her life before he broke eye contact. Busying himself with making her a cup of tea. She got up, kind of dazed, and went to get her Mary Poppins DVD. "I hope you don't mind." She said holding up the case for him to see, "It's just that I watch it every time I feel sick. It makes me feel better." 

"Anything to make you feel better, Molly." He replied with a quick smile, "Besides, I've always liked her. She wasn't dull like characters from most movies. I related with her." Of course he related to Mary Poppins of all people. She could almost see it, a young Sherlock Holmes sitting in front of a television set indulging in his favourite VHS cassette. She'd never really thought about Sherlock as a child, it seems like such a strange thought. 

They sat down on her couch and started the movie. "You seem to know this movie quite well." Sherlock remarked at Molly's knowledge of every word to every song that has played so far. 

"I feel sad a lot." She said to him, and he looked over at her even though she still was watching the film intently. 

"Do you feel sad now?" 

"No. I feel happy now." She replied looking at him for a second, then turning away as she began to blush again. 

The Banks children were far into the chalk drawing when Sherlock had realized Molly's head rested on his shoulder. His arm had begun to fall asleep and he wanted more than anything to be able to move it a new position. He did not however, want her to get up. The only logical solution the detective could come up with was to move his arm around her shoulders. She didn't protest, she didn't say a word. Instead she pulled her knees up and rested them against his legs and reached her arm around his stomach. Never had Sherlock imagined that he would be sitting in Molly Hooper's flat with her, while watching a Disney movie and cuddling. And never had he even begun to fathom that he'd enjoy it quite a lot. He allowed himself a small smile and he leaned his head against hers. When the movie ended and Molly left his arms, disappointment racked his brain. He wanted her back. He wanted to stay in that moment forever. But he also wanted to ignore the feelings that were stirring inside of him. He knew that sentiment only led to bad endings. It wasn't worth it, it was risky. 

"Sherlock?" 

"Yes?"

"I've been asking you about pillows for a minute. Where have you gone?" 

"Oh, just, uh, thinking. One pillow will suffice, thank you Molly." 

Molly walked into her bedroom and grabbed the spare pillow. She picked it up and held it to herself for a minute. Ever since her first day at Bart's she has dreamed about Sherlock staying the night in her flat. And maybe it wasn't the same way the evening seemed to play out in her mind but it was still a dream come true. It was strange how suddenly soft he had become towards her. Molly knew Sherlock had thought she didn't notice. But she felt his gaze watching her while she worked, and she heard how his voice quickly softened when he spoke to her. It was strange, but welcome. She returned to him with the pillow to find him still staring out in to space with the same distant look in his eyes. He was abruptly awoken from his thoughts with a pillow colliding with his face. He stared up at her in shock. Her laughter, a genuine laughter, not the nervous giggle he usually heard, sang out from her. It was melodic and beautiful, it was something he could listen to all day. She grabbed the pillow again and hit him, again and again. Running after him around the couch, hitting him with pillow in her hands. He ran to her bedroom to take cover from his attacker and catch his breath for a moment. Molly laughed to herself as she heard the lock on her door click, she reached up to her hair and pulled a pin from her loose bun atop her head. As quietly as possible she pushed it into the small hole on the doorknob until she felt the lock give way. She turned the knob and carefully opened the door and Sherlock was bombarded with another barrage of pillow hits across his face, before he grabbed a hold of her and they both fell laughing hysterically on to her bed. When the giggles went away they were reduced to nothing but two people laying on the bed gazing at each other. Sherlock moved a piece of her hair out of her face, gently tucking it behind her ear. Never breaking eye contact for a moment. She put her hand on his. This was the most wonderful she'd felt in ages. She's never had so much fun with a man and even though he reduces her to stammers, there are times when being around him allows her to be herself so naturally. She didn't feel lonely now. Always lonely, she was. Usually only her cat, Toby, to keep her company. Who right now was hiding, he was always so scared of new people. It had always seemed impossible, her and Sherlock. And now, looking into the eyes of the man she had fallen hopelessly in love with while laying in her bed, the impossibility seemed more like a reality. 

"Sherlock, I-"

"Molly, shut up." Sherlock said softly as he leaned in towards her.