Part 2 should be posted in the next couple of days. That’s where the direct sherlolly interactions will begin. Thanks for bearing with me, readers. ;))
The door to her flat shut, not even hard, but it still made Molly wince in pain. She stood there for a few moments, frozen with her arms crossed tightly over her middle as she felt heat pool in her face and pressure build throat. She could hardly breathe at first, and when her body finally insisted on air, the process became an agonizing combination of respiration and sobbing.
With her vision now horribly blurred, Molly marched down the hallway and into her bedroom. The force of her steps set Toby on alert and he jetted from the bed to hide underneath the armchair by her window. Which was fortunate for him, seeing as Molly was in no mood to be gentle with the bed linens.
She whipped the duvet and sheet from off the bed and tossed it on the floor, along with the throw blanket that hung on the footboard. She violently removed the pillow cases; all four regular ones and the two shams. Amongst sobs that were growing louder by the moment, she climbed onto the bed to tug the corners of the fitted sheets and mattress pad away from the mattress, sniffling as she finally balled them up and chucked them at the floor along with the rest of the items.
She collapsed then, atop her completely bare bed, curling up and weeping uncontrollably. How stupid she felt; utterly ridiculous and childish! Molly couldn’t even believe that she’d managed to convince herself that somehow things would be anything other than what they were this morning. How, in the moments that it took for her to make that decision the night before, did she conclude that things would somehow turn out well?
Molly lay there fifteen minutes later, spent from crying, staring blankly up at her ceiling. Toby felt it safe to join her and she absentmindedly scratched his fuzzy head and felt the soft rumbling of his purring against her side. It hurt so badly to lay there feeling like she did at that moment. The contrast to twelve short hours before was so very extreme. It really was too awful to dwell on. She decided that she really shouldn’t.
A few minutes later, Molly Hooper forced herself to get up, start the linens washing, get ready for work, and get on with her life.
Sherlock pulled up a chair and sat down across from his brother, both of their expressions weary, even three weeks after their lives completely changed. Mycroft dumped a file on the desk in front of Sherlock and smiled tightly.
“All loose ends officially tied then?” Sherlock questioned softly as he picked up the file.
“Yes, I should say so. Even Mummy and Daddy seem relatively at ease.” Mycroft sighed. “Largely thanks to you.”
The two brothers exchanged a look for a moment, both fully aware of the part that each of them had played, good and bad, and the way their lives would never be the same.
Mycroft drew a deep breath. “Oh and the search was done, as you requested. During the work day of course, so she was completely unaware.”
Sherlock’s leaned forward in interest and he set the file down again. “And?”
I’m nervous to post but here are the protection jars I made using @witchy-woman jar ingredients and spellwork. I made them for close friends and a friend or two to keep safe after recent events in the US…. thank you so much for your amazing spells and crafts! I love them and I love seeing your posts on my dash!
Rating: Matureish I suppose; involves alcohol and talks about Daniel’s penis. Words: 938 Pairing: Armand/Daniel Summary: Drunk vampire makeout. Supplemental Material: Title borrowed from THIS COOL SONG that’s about androids but like whoops whatever pretend it’s about vampires okay.
As someone whose attachment to Washington DC is just as strong as her attachment to London—I am a child of both capital cities (geographically and biographically; my parents are diplomats) and finished university in DC and lived in its suburbs for a long time—I can tell you already that even though it’s not even the end of January, Killian’s chirpy, zipping little visit to a cold and wet DC today is likely going to make my Best of 2017 at the end of this year. Emotions business. Emotions business, you damned POTATO.