The Anniversary
Dec. 9th, 2017 05:14 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
theonewhocountedWhen Sherlock tells her to clear her calendar on December 16th, she has no idea what he's up to. And he isn't exactly being forthcoming with the details. Every time she tries to trick him into revealing something about the plan, he is (of course) two steps ahead of her, easily sidestepping the question or only hinting at the answer. So when the morning finally comes, she has no idea what to expect. With Sherlock there is no way to prepare for or guess at what's to come, so her plan is just to go with the flow, let him lead the way. He likes to do it anyway.
He's already up when she awakens and she pulls on her robe before padding out into the sitting room to find out what he's up to. A fire is going, which is good because the rest of the flat is chilly.
He's already up when she awakens and she pulls on her robe before padding out into the sitting room to find out what he's up to. A fire is going, which is good because the rest of the flat is chilly.
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Date: 2017-12-10 05:05 am (UTC)Rosie has grown enough to begin pulling herself upright, standing, her babbling only just beginning to form words. Though John isn't dating yet, he's found a new therapist, and has made slow but steady progress out of the shadows. Mycroft actually comes to Baker Street sometimes simply to see his brother, and though it takes time and quite a lot of patience he's actually turning out to be a rather decent and interesting bloke under the Sahara-dry humour and the cold facade. And, bit by bit and all at once, Sherlock has been changing as well.
He's still blunt, and fairly socially oblivious, and somewhat insecure; he still needs periods of silence, to soothe his nerves when he grows overstimulated from the constant stream of incoming information and emotion. He still has nightmares about the Aquarium, consciously looks away from it or closes his eyes if he's in a car and it's on the skyline. But there are other changes, long-overdue ones, as he's opened up and begun to acknowledge how much he feels as well as observes. He's allowing himself to be vastly more than a detective: now he's a godfather, a brother, a son. And a lover.
Things haven't been perfect. (Especially not after Sherlock's introduction to Molly's mother, which, while not disastrous, was not what anyone might call a runaway success. The woman is, in Sherlock's opinion, not at all the mother Molly Hooper deserves.) But they have been better than Sherlock could ever have anticipated. He can't recall a time in his life richer than this. Because now he knows what it's like to have not only friendship but an intimate and tender connection with someone who can drag him down out of his mind palace and into the world. He understands what it means, now, to have someone to come home to, someone whose heartbeat lulls him to sleep, someone who shelters him when he's vulnerable. And though the guilt over Mary's death lingers, he finds it easier and easier to accept that he can be happy.
Molly makes him happy. He didn't think anyone ever would, not the way she does.
And that deserves some recognition.
So he puts thought and effort into the plan, and slyly evades her efforts to weasel any part of the surprise out of him, until finally it's December 16th and he can reveal what he's been plotting for more than a month now.
When she comes into the sitting room, he's already mostly dressed, though he hasn't bothered with a blazer or shoes yet. The skeleton mug is sitting on the coffee table waiting for her.
"There you are." He finds himself smiling, the kind of small, fond smile he didn't know he was capable of until she drew it out of him. "Good morning. You look well-rested."
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Date: 2017-12-11 12:17 am (UTC)Molly runs her hand through our sleep-mussed hair as she goes to sit next to him on the couch, reaching for the steaming mug before she sits back tucking her body against his.
"Good morning," she says, voice still a bit gravely from sleep. She gives his lips a quick kiss. "I am well-rested, but you should have woke me up if I was sleeping too late."
She didn't want to cut into his plans for the day after all.
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Date: 2017-12-12 03:12 am (UTC)But it's getting easier, day by day, to imagine that Mary would indeed be happy for them. He allows the thought of her to retreat quietly, to be revisited later, letting the moment wash over him again.
"Not too late at all," he says lightly. "You generally sleep about forty-five minutes to an hour later on your days off, which gave me a reasonable window to work with."
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Date: 2017-12-12 03:52 am (UTC)"I'm glad I'm so utterly predictable." she deadpans but smirks into her coffee cup as she looks over at him.
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Date: 2017-12-12 04:57 pm (UTC)It's absolutely worth cat hair on his coat and the occasional realization that he's accidentally left the house in a pair of Molly's socks.
"Only when you're sleeping," he says, smirking back at her. "And when ordering takeaway. Speaking of which, breakfast should be here any minute."
(He did try, a few months back, to put together a dinner for her. Distantly he's still sort of amazed the entire building didn't burn down again--though to be fair, he's still certain it would have turned out fine if Lestrade hadn't interrupted with an absolutely cracking unexplained death.)
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Date: 2017-12-13 01:29 am (UTC)"You ordered breakfast delivery?" she asks him, an eyebrow raising. That's something she can say with certainty that she has never done. Leave it to Sherlock to do it. Her stomach growls at the thought. "What did you order?"
The idea of getting a great breakfast without have to put clothes on or leave snuggle time on the couch with him, is very appealing.
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Date: 2017-12-13 05:11 pm (UTC)For all the fuss he's made about how much he hates words like cuddling, he genuinely does love doing it. Sometimes the moments where he and Molly are simply folded together quietly, communicating only through warmth and touch, are the highlights of his day. Though today he's hoping he won't peak too early--he has much bigger plans than couch cuddling.
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Date: 2017-12-14 01:32 am (UTC)"You're not serious."
And yet, this was Sherlock. He did a lot of favours for a lot of people and he was a semi-celebrity here (something she was still trying to get used to when strangers would approach them in public or the gossip rags would have a slow week and somehow their mundane outing turned into news). So Gordon Ramsay owing him a favour wasn't that out of the realm of possibility. At least not as much as it should be in the life of normal people.
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Date: 2017-12-14 03:06 am (UTC)His tone is still light, teasing--and then the doorbell rings, and he steals a quick kiss before reluctantly disentangling himself from her. "Right, that'll be breakfast. One moment."
Quickly he heads to the front door to collect the takeaway; he's already set up a tray in the kitchen to transfer the food to, so it's only a minute or two before he's back. The presentation isn't particularly fancy, but the food itself is expertly made, and everything smells delicious. It's sort of funny to him, in certain moments, that he's started to enjoy food more now that he has more people in his life to enjoy meals with, though mostly he's just quietly grateful that the horizons of his world have expanded to include pleasures like this.
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Date: 2017-12-14 03:27 am (UTC)While he's gone, she shifts so she's cross-legged. A much better position for eating breakfast on the couch.
"Wow, look at all that," she says when he brings the tray over. "What did I do to deserve such service?"
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Date: 2017-12-14 05:14 pm (UTC)Over the past year he's finally submitted to her efforts to 'feed him up', which has been something of a double-edged sword. On the one hand, he's now attuned to his body's needs, and he's gained a healthy amount of weight; on the other hand, now he gets cranky when he reverts to his old schedule of only eating when he remembers to. But at least he's aware now that food is important (and that preparing for a big day requires a lot more than something out of a vending machine).
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Date: 2017-12-15 12:24 am (UTC)She starts looking over the tray as she grabs a plate to start helping herself to the goodies.
"Oh yeah? Where are we going?" she asks, wondering if now he'll tell her the plan or if he's going to be very dramatic and unveil it as it goes along (she's banking on the latter with Sherlock).
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Date: 2017-12-15 02:09 am (UTC)Funnily enough, having Molly in his life has made him somewhat more open about expressing his appreciation for the other people he cares about. Sherlock knows he may never be great at articulating his emotions with language, but he is pretty good at getting across what he wants to say with gestures--he's always been more about show than tell (even if he does rabbit on at crime scenes). He's been more considerate to John, and he absolutely spoils Rosie, even if he won't admit it.
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Date: 2017-12-15 02:19 am (UTC)"Well, I know we're not going Christmas shopping because you loathe the shops at the holidays."
Or so he always says.
"And it's the wrong time of day for a personal murder tour of London."
She really doesn't care what it is they're doing. Just the fact that he's planned a whole day for them is a gift in and of itself.
(And he is incredibly cute with little Rosie and does absolutely spoil her something awful. Watching them together is one of her favourite things.)
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Date: 2017-12-15 02:58 am (UTC)(He's definitely noticed how much Molly enjoys watching him with their goddaughter. The warmth he sees in her face when he catches her looking at them is something he's come to treasure for reasons he doesn't fully understand.)
"Though I'd argue it's never the wrong time of day for a personal murder tour of London."
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Date: 2017-12-15 03:03 am (UTC)"True, but knowing how dramatic you are, I know you prefer a night with a full-moon," she teases in between bites. The food is delicious. It feels like she hasn't had a proper breakfast in ages. It's mostly cereal bars or muffins from the coffee shop on the way to (or from) work.
"Is John or Rosie involved in today's outing?"
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Date: 2017-12-16 07:21 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2017-12-16 07:38 pm (UTC)"Well, yes, I love everything about you," she says matter of factly with a shrug. Even the parts that sometimes drive her crazy.
"An extended date. I like the sound of that."
With their schedules they sometimes don't get to get out just the two of them as often as she'd like. So this was going to be a treat - whatever they would be doing.
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Date: 2017-12-17 04:02 am (UTC)Though he's still generally reserved about responding to Molly's casual 'I love you's in kind, he finds himself more and more comfortable responding with gestures. There's a clear and unmistakable sentiment in the way he reaches over and tucks a lock of hair behind her ear, fingertips just skimming over her earlobe, almost tender.
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Date: 2017-12-17 04:08 am (UTC)She turns and smiles fondly at him, her eyes saying I know.
"So where are we going to first?"
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Date: 2017-12-17 05:21 am (UTC)*
Once they've finished their meal, he clears the dishes while she gets changed; by the time she's ready so is he, his coat collar already turned up. (And, because he knows she has a soft spot for it--not to mention because he loves seeing her wearing it after he's done with it--he's gone with the purple shirt today.) He's got her black-and-pink striped scarf in one hand, which he holds out to her with a slightly lopsided smile.
"First stop is the Hunterian Museum," he says cheerfully. "During renovations they found several uncatalogued items, and we've been invited to give a professional opinion."
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Date: 2017-12-17 07:51 pm (UTC)"We?" she asks as she buttons herself up. Most likely he means him but that's he's taking her along for the ride which is fine with her. The Hunterian Museum is one of her favourites.
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Date: 2017-12-17 08:46 pm (UTC)Behind-the-scenes access to a museum of medical oddities likely isn't most people's idea of a romantic gesture, but Molly Hooper isn't most people, for which Sherlock finds himself continually grateful.
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Date: 2017-12-17 09:45 pm (UTC)"Oh, that sounds lovely. I haven't been there in ages."
And no, most people would probably not consider old surgical equipment and glass jars of tumors to be 'lovely' but she knows Sherlock won't look at her strange for her use of the word, like some others might.
"Do you know what types things we'll be trying to identify? Have they given you any idea?"
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Date: 2017-12-17 11:51 pm (UTC)He hails a cab for the two of them, just as he would if they were working.
"Depending on how long we spend there, we can move on to one of several other activities, but I won't press you to rush through your diagnoses."
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Date: 2017-12-18 12:25 am (UTC)She watched London go by as they headed for the museum, quite excited about the treasures they were going to get to look at today.
"And do I get to know what the other activities are?"
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Date: 2017-12-18 03:45 am (UTC)He grins, too distracted by her smile to tense against the possibility of seeing the Aquarium out of one of the windows. (Though he knows they're not going near there, he has in fact planned the entire day so they won't have to pass by it. Sherlock is self-aware enough by now that he knows he doesn't want her having to deal with his post-traumatic stress on a special day.)
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Date: 2017-12-19 01:08 am (UTC)"Sounds like a big undertaking," she says. "But, I'll admit, terribly interesting."
She grins right back. He knows her too well. She's going to be in heaven poking through the old things and trying to make sense of whatever organs might be in those jars. There's a lot they have in common when it comes to solving puzzles and mysteries - hers just tend to be a little more focused on the mysteries of the human body.
"Oh, I do hope there's a brain."
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Date: 2017-12-20 01:51 am (UTC)When they arrive at the museum, they're greeted by his contact, a cheerful middle-aged woman wearing trainers and a long beaded chain to keep her glasses round her neck. And though he's been rehearsing this for days inside his head, he finds his mouth is a little dry and his pulse ticks a little too fast when it's actually time for him to speak.
"Daphne, good to see you again. Molly, this is Dr Daphne Henry of the Hunterian Museum. Daphne, this is Molly Hooper of the St. Bart's pathology division, and--my girlfriend."
He's never referred to her that way before, not even in private. It's not a word he's especially fond of (see also: cuddling) but he's aware that it carries a weight for most people in casual conversation that 'partner' doesn't.
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Date: 2017-12-20 02:10 am (UTC)"Pleasure to meet you," Molly says as she reaches out her hand to shake the woman's. "Sherlock has been telling me all about this new collection. I'm excited to have a look."
Underneath her calm exterior, Molly is beaming that he's finally called her his girlfriend, even if she's aware that he's mostly done it because it's the socially acceptable thing to call her. Just the fact that he's even started to care a little about how people perceive what he says and does, makes her terribly proud of him. Not that she wants him to care too much either, but she doesn't ever expect that will be a problem.
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Date: 2017-12-20 09:24 pm (UTC)Dr Henry, for her part, just gives them both a warm and accepting smile and a firm handshake before ushering them into the makeshift lab they've set up for the uncatalogued acquisitions.
"We have paperwork on some of it," she explains, "but most of the documentation was either lost to water damage or never existed at all. Everything we can't identify is in here, and we have an extensive set of digital photos if you need a very close look at anything."
The 'lab' is packed with old crates and cardboard boxes, among other odds and ends. A pair of card tables have been set up to accommodate the equipment Sherlock's already requested: a microscope, an iPad, a box of disposable gloves, and a set of surgical tools. It's all they really need to pick apart the mysteries in this room.
"Perfect." He glances over at Molly, mouth quirking. "Let's try and find a brain, then."
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Date: 2017-12-21 03:39 am (UTC)She nods along to what Dr. Henry is saying and then her eyes get big at the piles of boxes that await them.
"Wow. This is....a lot of stuff."
And she can't believe they're just going to let her and Sherlock go to town in here. She smiles at him. There's got to be at least one brain in all of that.
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Date: 2017-12-26 04:58 pm (UTC)“And here we won’t get kicked out for identifying them,” Sherlock adds as he hauls a stained cardboard box onto the table to unpack. “Back when I was, ah, traveling, I ended up at the Paris Lost and Found Museum with some time to kill. I’ve been banned till 2030 for ‘attempting to destroy the mysteries of the museum’. Bit over the top, I thought, but that’s the French for you.”
He peers down into the mess of very old newspaper he’s just disturbed. The smell of formaldehyde drifts from the box.
“Oh, Daphne, you’re too good to us.”
Carefully he reaches in and lifts out a very, very large jar... with a human head floating in it. Or something that looks a lot like a human head.
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Date: 2017-12-26 11:24 pm (UTC)When he opens the box, there's no mistaking the smell that hits her right away. There's definitely something interesting in there.
And she's not wrong.
"Oh. Oh my. That's...quite a bit more than a brain."
She had certainly not expected an entire head.
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Date: 2017-12-28 01:50 am (UTC)"It's perfect." Sherlock is nearly beaming. "Could you go and get us some sort of--" he gestures vaguely-- "mouth covering and goggles and such, in case we open it up?"
She shoots Molly a glance that seems to suggest she'd really like Molly to talk Sherlock out of opening the jar, but nods. "Of course. I'll be right back."
The second she's out of the room, he grins over at Molly, his expression completely and earnestly delighted.
"Seems it's also Christmas early. Where d'you think we should start with this one, consulting pathologist?"
(That's as close as he's come to having a pet name for her--though in a handful of vulnerable, intense moments, he's called her 'my Molly' without realising it.)
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Date: 2017-12-29 02:42 am (UTC)"Are we supposed to be trying to identify the person or confirm the head is real?" she asks him. She doesn't think ID would really be possible without any paperwork on it. It is pretty unlikely the person has DNA on record anywhere.
feel free to make up details about the head, btw :D
Date: 2017-12-29 04:19 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2017-12-30 02:52 am (UTC)"Well, if it is real, whoever did the preservation must have been experienced and had the right tools," she said as she looks closely at the specimen. Which points to a professional. "It's possible that maybe this was a case of someone leaving their body to science and being preserved for a university or medical school. But even so, it would have been rare - to preserve a human head.
"Maybe there are other documents or specimens in the collection that might help us date it."
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Date: 2018-01-01 01:16 am (UTC)He shifts a little so she can get a better look at it. It's a gesture of consideration he rarely grants anyone, but he does it for her without a second thought.
"We don't have the original layout of the storage space to go on, as they had to move it all out to renovate the building, but we can do a little curating of our own. Pick out likely pieces that might have been part of the same collection. Though we'll get a far better idea of what that might be once we determine whether it's real or not--if it's a prop it's not likely to belong with other genuine cadaver parts. Though I'm not entirely sure why a fake head would be preserved in real formaldehyde."
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Date: 2018-01-06 03:17 am (UTC)"Are you really proposing that we pop it open and have out with the head?"
She remembers Dr. Henry's wary look. Although she doesn't know how else they'll authenticate it without cutting into it directly. It looks real enough from what she can see, but a visual is hardly hard evidence.
From a box, she picks up a leather case and opens the latch. Inside looks to be a collection of medical instruments.
"Hm."
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Date: 2018-01-10 05:40 pm (UTC)Socially oblivious as he is, even he knows that most places can and will kick you out if you stink of formaldehyde. Plus with the way this day is planned they won’t have much time to head home and change if there’s a chemical mishap of some sort.
He’s momentarily, pleasantly distracted by the sight of her bending over the box to retrieve the case of instruments.
“New jeans,” he observes approvingly, before he can stop himself.
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Date: 2018-01-11 03:34 am (UTC)His comment about her jeans takes her by surprise - he's always doing that - and she huffs out a laugh.
"Why, Sherlock Holmes. Are you checking out my arse while we're on the job?" she teases him with a smirk over her shoulder. It fills her with strange pride that her bum can distract him even in the middle of a room full of puzzles. She's going to mark this one on the calendar and tell their children someday.
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Date: 2018-01-17 02:09 am (UTC)"Yes." He moves to examine another box, though he doesn't take his eyes off her for a long moment. "It's appealing and in my line of sight."
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Date: 2018-01-17 03:20 am (UTC)She pulls on some gloves before she starts pulling out the instruments and laying them on the table.
"What's in your box?"
She glances back over at him.
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Date: 2018-01-23 01:18 am (UTC)"This," he declares, lifting a battered folder from the box to peer at its contents more closely. "Photographs from... looks like Merton College, or one of the others near it in Oxford. All black and white. Could see if we recognize him in one of these--we might have a professor who made a specimen of himself."
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Date: 2018-01-25 12:24 am (UTC)"Are there dates on them?" she asked as she looked over his shoulder at photos of men posed seated together looking at the camera. Looked like formal class photos. There appeared to also be some more candids in the classroom and at events.