It’s 2am, Neil’s shuffling into the kitchen to get a glass of water, he flicks on the light and turns around to find himself face to face with a giant tabby cat, who’s been sitting there on the countertop watching him, with it’s eerily sentient eyes. He jumps, and, on his instinct driven backwards step, trips over the water bowl behind him in a cacophony of clattering metal and grunting, before landing on his ass in a painful thud. Andrew, instantly awake and already running out of the room, ready to beat an intruder to death, half blind given he was dead asleep 2 seconds ago, falls over Neil on his way into the room and the both of them end up sprawled on top of each other on the kitchen floor. The cat jumps off the counter and sits on Andrew’s back.
Something else interesting to note about Sherlock and Molly, and who they ‘pretend’ to be in the real world:
Sherlock only likes himself when he’s something he’s not. When he’s dressed up in his detective identity. He hates himself, or is terribly uncomfortable, as anything else.
Molly is only not herself one time in the series, during the Christmas episode. She dressed up in a ‘costume’, to try and be something she really wasn’t. It’s the only time we see her look completely and utterly uncomfortable.
In TEH, when Sherlock shyly asks Molly to come and participate in a case with him, she asks him what John usually does. By this point, Sherlock knows Molly. He remembers the last time she was at 221B, trying so hard to be someone she wasn’t, for him. This time, he makes sure she knows all he wants is for her to be herself. “You’re not being John, you’re being yourself.”
Molly is only comfortable when she’s herself. Something I think Sherlock admires greatly about her.
Sherlock is never comfortable, never okay when he’s himself…except when he’s with Molly.
Sherlock trusting Molly enough to be himself with her is in itself a kind of love. It’s not an everyday romantic kind of love, but I think for Molly, it’s worth far more than any dinner date or night at the pub. To her, it’s pure diamonds.
If the moon smiled, she would resemble you. You leave the same impression Of something beautiful, but a n n i h i l a t i n g. Both of you are great light borrowers. Her O-mouth grieves at the world; yours is unaffected,