My Significant Other?

Chapter 2- Meeting

âAre you sure? I mean, the morgueâs open,â Molly mentioned. âAre you sure you just want the lab?â Molly, Sherlock and John were all walking to the lab. John sometimes had to jog to keep up with the pace of the other two.

âI am quite sure, Molly,â Sherlock claimed. John huffed from behind the two. They soon got to the door of the lab. Molly opened the locked door with some jingling keys. Molly seemed to be covering her left hand. Sherlock looked at the hand while she was opening the door. A large gash caught his eyes. Looked like an accident, glass shard? Maybe, broken test tube? Sounded plausible. âMolly, did you clean up a broken test tube from a mistake of some sort?â Molly let the door swing open and she sighed.

âYes, but it wasnât my fault,â She defended as she stepped into the lab.

âWhoâs was it? The new employee? Whatâs his name? How many dates?â Sherlock quizzed. Molly looked at Sherlock with an angry expression.

âSherlock!â John hissed from behind the tall man. Sherlock simply smirked.

âOh no itâs fine, John,â Molly closed her eyes and said in a calm tone. âI havenât gone out with him Sherlock and I donât want to. His name is Mason and he is rather clumsy. In fact, heâs making me cover for him, so I would be thanking him.â Molly finished. Sherlockâs expression didnât change. John grimaced.

âWell, heâs sorry about his behaviour right now,â John declared with anger seeping through each word. No, Iâm not. He thought to himself. Molly shot Sherlock a pained expression.

âI was actually going to think that you might apologize, but I know better,â Molly turned away from Sherlock. Sherlock frowned and stepped in, John following. Sherlock opened his mouth and then shut it. Then, he bit his lip.

âIâm sorry, Molly,â he replied to the silence that had made itâs way into the room. There it was, again. The feelings! Why couldnât there be a day where no one cared? Molly turned with a shocked expression. Sherlock quickly avoided her eyes and made himself settled at the table. âJohn, I need that syringe.â Sherlock pointed to a syringe all the way on the other side of the table, near John. John was a bit dazed about Sherlockâs apology, but still complied. Molly still dazed didnât move.

âMolly!â A female voice called from outside the door. A lady rushed to the door. âMason isnât around and I NEED the morgue!â Sherlock looked at her and scanned her. She had dark hair, similar to Sherlockâs and it was curled. Natural, obviously. She had pale skin but her cheeks were a bit red. Her eyes were gray, but were starting to change to a pale blue. She wore a long black coat and a navy scarf. Under, she had a silk purple blouse and a black pencil skirt with black tights. On her feet were black heels, round toed pumps was what they were called. Now for the fun, the deductions. Her heels were used, favorite pair. Hair tousled, scarf loose, flushed cheeks, she had been running. Why? Her attire was expensive, rich. She was stressed and had been running hard. Occupation? A small card was in her pocket, not hers...someone related...sister? Yes. Why would she need that card? To go anywhere. Sisterâs in the government. But, whatâs her occupation? Consulting.......detective? Maybe. She could also be a criminal. Ah, not enough evidence, and her expression wasnât giving him anything.

Sherlock felt something. It was deep in his mind, ever since she had cried out. What was it? He had felt it before!

Oh....yes...loathing. Hatred. Oh, the feeling was dark and churned Sherlockâs conscious. He liked it, though. It wasnât jealousy or something like love. It was dark and it felt good despising this individual.

âUm, sir, please stop trying to scan me, I donât like idiot deductions,â The lady stated, giving him a cold stare. Sherlock quirked his brow. He saw Johnâs expression turn to panic.