Work Text:
The Great Sherlock Holmes was in love.
Yes, that's right. In love.
He was deeply and madly in love with the one and only: Molly Hooper.
Yes, that's right. Molly Hooper.
He wasn't quite sure when it started.
It may have been when she gave him anything and everything he asked for, without question. It may have been when she got all dolled up at Christmas and for the first time in his life, made him willingly apologise. It may have been when she told him that 'he looks sad when he thinks no one can see him', or it may have been when she said that 'she didn't count'. It may have been when she asked him what he needed and it may have been when she gave herself to him because it was what he needed. It may have been when she repeatedly cleaned his wounds. It may have been when she cried and cried when he actually did have to leave. It may have been when he asked her to help solve crimes for a day and it may have been when she smiled because he said 'he doesn't want her to be like John'. It may have been when she told him that 'she couldn't do this anymore'. It may have been when she introduced Tom to everybody and it may have been when she showed up at John and Mary's wedding in a bright yellow dress and a huge bow in her hair. It may have been when she stabbed Tom in the hand with a fork and it may have been when she stared after him when he left the reception alone. It may have been when she slapped him, hard, three times and it may have been when she, once again, saved his life.
But it didn't matter. When and where and how and why.
It didn't matter.
Because the Great Sherlock Holmes was in love.
Yes, that's right. In love.
He was deeply and madly in love with the one and only: Molly Hooper.
Yes, that's right. Molly Hooper. Molly Holmes.

kathmak898 (Guest) Sun 24 Aug 2014 02:26AM UTC
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harperstiles Sun 24 Aug 2014 07:28AM UTC
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