Summary: In which Killian confesses to David and Emma. Spoilers for 6x12.
Notes: I had a lot of feelings about the end of 6x12. Title from The Quality of Mercy by William Shakespeare. Much love and gratitude to my instrumental wife @ripplestitchskein for reading this through for me.
The worst of it, Killian thinks, is that for a moment, he doesn’t recall the man’s face.
He was nothing but a liability, standing between his crew and enough riches to carry him from one day to the next, bleeding out a living until he could sink his hook into the crocodile’s neck. And he doesn’t recognize David’s father at first, because he’d been merely one in the stream, one of the nameless voices that whispers to him late at night, or early in the morning, growing louder and louder, until he’s forced out of bed – and out of the endearingly tight circle of Emma’s arms – to wander along the line where the town meets the sea.
Only now, this one has a name, and the longer and harder he peers down at the drawing, the more familiar he seems. Not only from a hazy memory, but from the set of his brow, the swell of his cheeks, features he sees in the man he now calls his friend, and in the woman he longs to call his wife. And here, in the midnight shadows of the home he shares with her, he holds tight to the incriminating pages, a wisp of the darkness still stirring in his heart suggesting he surrender them to the sea.
Six sentence prompt: “I think you could use a holiday, Sherlock.” Please and thank you!
I made myself giggle writing this one! 😆
“I think you could use a holiday, Sherlock,” Molly stated with a laugh after he’d finished ranting about the latest roadblock in his case.
“Hm, do you know…you may just have something there,” Sherlock said thoughtfully, a lightbulb practically visible above his head. “I can just picture us lounging on a beach in Greece when this case is solved, cool drinks in our hands, the warm breeze in our hair and sun on our skin, and you in that little two piece that I know you own but have always been a bit shy to wear despite looking truly magnificent in! And it’s only a matter of time before the warmth of the sun and our shared glances and gentle touches move us to retire back to our suite where we’ll enjoy a particularly invigorating and refreshing afternoon, very effectively working up an appetite for dinner, after which we’ll retire early to watch the sun set from our balcony overlooking the ocean as we hold each other close.”
Molly’s jaw hung on the floor and the color of her face was strikingly similar to the aforementioned sunset as he concluded his fantasy like description.
Sherlock cleared his throat, reality setting in as he took note of her expression and asked sheepishly, “I haven’t actually asked you out yet, have I?”