Wake Up

Molly Hooper. Such intellect coupled with such naivety can’t end well. Or maybe it can. Her whole life Molly has never been very popular or confident. But she has worked hard to get to where she is, although it’s still not Shangri-La. At 31 she has had her ups and downs and lovers who didn’t quite match. There’s always this one man on her mind though. Yet he doesn’t care.

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3. Chapter 3

After a minute or two, Molly woke up again. ‘He… I… How… and… no… but… it’s… how?’ She couldn’t form proper thoughts out of shock. The man she had hoped to see there certainly was there, just not like she thought he would be. Everything shattered to pieces and her ears were ringing. No way on earth was this possible. Him, lying there - someone was playing a cruel joke. Yes, that’s it. He’s asleep and they kidnapped him. Or he was playing a joke on her himself. No, it must’ve been Crystal. What had she ever done to her to deserve this? There never was a chance for the two of them but at least they could’ve been good friends and now even that wasn’t possible anymore. First a single tear rolled off her cheek but then it started pouring out. A proper waterfall of saltwater escaped her tear ducts. Of all the people she thought she’d see here, he definitely wasn’t one of them.

Half blinded by the water she looked for a chair to sit down on but couldn’t find one, so she went back to him and looked at his face. Every time she was able to calm down a bit, she looked back down at him and started crying again. This went on for about a minute but it felt much longer.

Molly looked again and suddenly his eyes flew open and he flashed a smile.

“No need to cry, I’m so sorry!” he said grinning, but his apology sounding genuine.

She couldn’t even respond because she was so upset. Before realizing what she was doing, Molly slapped him across his face.

“Okay, I know you’re upset but was that really necessary?” he exclaimed. Now Molly was even more traumatized. He sat up and pushed off the bag. “You know, it’s not even that cold in there,” he said, pointing to the cold chamber he’d just been pulled out of, “but it is damn uncomfortable.” He brushed himself off.

Molly had to blink a few times to make sure she wasn’t dreaming again. “Pinch me.” He moved closer and pinched her right shoulder. She flinched and looked again. He was really standing there. She slapped him again. “Hey, you told me to do that!” he cried out. She shrugged.

“So, did that surprise you, Molly?” Sherlock Holmes walked into the room, followed by Dr. John Watson. She didn't reply because she couldn’t. Molly turned to John to see if he had been in on it, too, since Sherlock obviously had, but she couldn’t read his expression. She closed her eyes, wiped her face with her sleeve and took a long, deep breath. Then she turned to him.

“Greg Lestrade. Why?” she said without a hint of emotion in her voice.

“I thought I’d surprise you… I don’t know,” he was getting very unsure of himself and this plan. The two of them stared at each other, Molly still not fathoming what was going on and Sherlock quickly intervened, getting a bit bored with all the emotions.

“Molly, Lestrade here wants to ask you to dinner and thought it would be a brilliant idea to pretend to be dead. I think he should stop having ideas since it obviously wasn’t a good one, like most others, but there you go. Now accept the offer and get on with it. It’s painfully obvious you want to.”

Though she really wanted to punch Sherlock and Greg and John, she went to the man she couldn’t stop thinking about, nodded her head and left the room. Now she just needed to talk to talk to Tom. She never really liked him that much anyway and he didn’t like her that much either. 

Maybe she would go on a picnic today.

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