Chapter Text
One Year Later
Paris, France
“Merci,” Irene said as the waiter set the cup of coffee down on the little table. She lifted the dainty cup to her lips, taking a slow sip and enjoying the quiet solitude outside the cafe.
Except that out of the corner of her eye, she knew there was a man watching her nearby. It wasn’t an unusual occurrence, so she’d become rather good at recognizing the signs.
“Pardon the interruption. I hope you don’t mind if I join you.”
Irene glanced up, somewhat unsurprised that the man had decided to actually approach. She said nothing, but he still presumptuously pulled the chair out and took a seat across from her, casually crossing one leg over the other and calling to the waiter for another cup of coffee. He turned back to her and grinned.
“Miss Irene Adler. What a pleasure.”
Irene raised her brow. “Is it? I haven’t decided yet.”
“You may not know me, but I certainly know who you are. Quite a well known name in London. That’s why I thought we should meet. I’m interested in making some… connections in London.”
The waiter came by and brought this strange man his coffee and Irene watched as he took a sip.
“And you are?” she asked, a bit impatient by then. “I’m not in the business of making connections with just anyone.”
He grinned again, behind the cup, before setting it down. “As I said, you don’t know me yet. But you will, soon enough. And besides, we do have a mutual friend.” He paused, something unreadably flashing in his eyes. “Sherlock Holmes.”
“An acquaintance of mine, yes,” Irene corrected coolly. She didn’t like the idea of appearing particularly attached to anyone, friend or otherwise. “I’ve been abroad for months, so I’ve not seen him since he moved to London.”
The man’s eyes widened. “Moved to London, you say? How fascinating. I suppose it was only a matter of time before he left that boring little country town. I think he always fancied himself a bit of a scientist… a detective , even.”
After taking another sip, Irene replied, “He is, yes. A rather brilliant one, at that. He’ll keep London on its toes, I wager.”
“Or perhaps London will keep Mr Holmes on his toes.” He winked. “Always plenty of crime to be had!”
Irene narrowed her eyes. “And was there something that I can help you with?”
He shrugged, throwing back the rest of the little cup of coffee before giving her an easy smile. “Not particularly. Just wanted to make sure we knew one another. It’ll be so much nicer when we happen to meet again in London, if we’re already acquainted.”
“Acquainted?” She sniffed. “I don’t even know your name.”
The man stood from his chair pushing it back against the table, still not volunteering the information.
“And shall I tell Mr and Mrs. Holmes that you send your regards?” Irene added.
The man froze, his lip twitching up strangely. It wasn’t a smile… more like a sneer.
“ Mrs Holmes?”
“Yes, he was married nine or ten months ago. But they only moved to London within the past few months. Something to do with Mrs Holmes' late father, I believe.”
He nodded very slowly, seemingly processing this information. “How very interesting,” he practically hissed, mostly to himself it seemed. Then something snapped in his eyes, and he came back, smiling cordially. “Well then, I suppose I’ll have to look forward to congratulating the happy couple myself when I meet them in London someday.”
The strange man reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a card, placing it on the table. “I’m so glad we happened to meet today, Miss Adler. Believe me when I say that this encounter has been beneficial for both of us.”
“I fail to see the benefit for me.”
“One day you will,” he replied simply. “You’ll be glad to have met me, I promise you that.”
Irene was growing tired of this strange interaction, in no mood to feign ladylike behavior. “Do you know, I’ve heard many men say that to me, and I’ve yet to be given a reason to believe a single one. I’ll be endlessly impressed if you’re the first.”
“Challenge accepted, Miss Adler… challenge accepted.” He smiled. “Until we meet again.”
Only as he walked away did she bother to pick up the calling card he left. It was blank… except for the letter M.
London, England
“You’ll find him? You really will?”
Sherlock drummed his fingers on the windowsill, watching the street like a hawk. “Absolutely, Mrs Willis. I feel sure it’ll give me no trouble at all. Perhaps if you stop by tomorrow afternoon I’ll have gathered some more solid information.”
“Oh, Mr Holmes, you are a godsend!” the woman exclaimed tearfully as she stood from her seat. “I shall return tomorrow afternoon. I pray you’ll have good news!”
Sherlock took one more look out the window before seeing her to the door, managing a small smile. “I can certainly promise there will be… significant news to share.”
The woman left, looking rather hopeful, which he supposed couldn’t have been avoided, given the circumstances.
Not twenty minutes later and Molly walked into the flat.
“There you are! If only you’d been here just a bit earlier I could have solved a case!”
Molly laughed, setting a small parcel down and removing her hat and gloves. “Oh really? You can’t do it on your own anymore, eh?”
“I could have, but I imagine it wouldn’t have gone over very well. You’re going to be essential for the, shall we say, recovery.”
She grimaced. “That bad?”
“Pretty sure the client’s husband staged his own attack to run off with the kitchen maid.”
Molly’s hand went to her mouth.
“The house was ransacked, there was jewelry missing, even a bit of blood smeared on the floor, and since then her husband has been nowhere to be found. She assumed he’d been taken.” Sherlock huffed. “Which was exactly what he hoped for.”
“Worthless man,” Molly muttered through grit teeth as she took the parcel to the kitchen. “And that poor woman.”
“You see now why I prefer to have you here.”
“Oh, I don’t know about that,” replied with a sly smile. “In my expert experience, you know how to be impressively caring and compassionate when someone has been treated badly.”
“Only with you, my darling.” Sherlock leaned down from behind her to press a kiss to her cheek. “I hardly think pretending to court this woman would be appropriate.”
Molly laughed at that reference.
He peered over her little shoulder then, with interest at the wrapped parcel. “And what’s this you’ve brought home?”
She swiveled around, biting her lip with a proud little grin as she looked up at him. “I was going to wait until after dinner, but it’s a gift for you.”
“After dinner, eh? Sweets?”
Molly shook her head.
Narrowing his eyes, Sherlock leaned down, grasping his wife’s shoulders as if about to kiss her, but instead giving her hair a very thorough sniff. Straightening up again, he smiled.
“You’ve been to St Bartholomew’s.”
“Hmm, perhaps I have.”
“To the morgue?”
“It’s a possibility.”
He placed his palms on the table behind her, leaning in. “And what sort of gift have you brought me from the morgue, might I ask?”
Molly appeared to be holding in a laugh. She put her finger to her lips. “Shh, we don’t want them to hear us.”
Sherlock frowned in confusion.
“Oh wait, they can’t because they’re dead!” She exclaimed excitedly, opening one bit of the parcel to show him. “It’s ears!”
Sherlock laughed along with his wife, mostly at the fact that she found this endlessly amusing. How was there ever a time when he hadn’t thought to marry this woman?
He examined the parcel in appreciation before setting it back down and shaking his head. “Have I told you how much I love you?”
“Well… I’m all ears.” Molly snorted out a little laugh.
“Molly, that was a truly terrible joke.”
“It was.”
Sherlock dropped his voice to a whisper. “Don’t ever stop telling them.”
Her arms snaked around his neck, inching them a bit closer to each other. “Weren’t you about to tell me how much you love me? Promise I won’t interrupt this time.”
“Mm… On second thought, I’ve changed my mind.”
“Oh really?”
He nodded slowly before suddenly stooping to hook his arms behind her legs and lift her from the floor, eliciting a squeal from her lips.
“I’d rather show you , if it’s all the same to you,” Sherlock proclaimed, marching down the little hallway from the kitchen to their bedroom.
Molly didn’t seem to mind one bit, grasping his face and pulling him into a kiss even as he walked. Toby barely managed to scurry out of the bedroom just before Sherlock kicked the door closed.
Sherlock leaned his head against his palm, watching Molly, her hair splayed out on the pillow and her breath coming and going in a slumbering rhythm. He shuddered at the thought of this flat without her. If he’d come here on his own, he might never have known the ecstasy of including her in this life. He probably would have convinced himself that he was happy, that he was better off that way. He might have become more and more set in his ways, descending deeper into a solitary existence and closing himself off from feeling.
Molly had saved him from all that.
He was also glad for the months they’d been able to spend in Brighton with her father, before his suffering finally ended. He was able to share in the joy of their engagement and their wedding, and to see his daughter happily settled in a marriage founded in love. Sometimes Sherlock wondered if Dr Hooper knew more than he let on regarding the shift in their courtship, when Sherlock truly let himself fall in love. There were little things he said and glances he gave at times, but nothing Sherlock could ever say for certain. If Dr Hooper did know the truth, he never said a word. Sherlock only ever felt completely trusted that he’d give Molly a life of happiness and love.
Molly blinked, stretching as she smiled at him. “Did I fall asleep?”
“Only for a few minutes.”
“What time is it?”
Sherlock picked up his pocket watch from the bedside table. “Nearly seven.”
She sat up with a little sigh. “I’d better get us some supper.”
Sherlock wrapped an arm around her middle, coaxing her to lay back again. “It’s my expert opinion that you’re needed here.”
“Some of us do have to eat, darling!” Molly laughed in protest, though still snuggled against him. “Especially if you expect me to help you with those ears later.”
“Ten more minutes,” he muttered into her hair. “Or perhaps we don’t need to get up at all. I’ll fetch some of that bread and cheese from the larder and we’ll eat right here. I suppose we won’t experiment on the ears in bed, though. Even I have my limits.”
“How very reasonable of you.” Molly pressed a little kiss to his neck.
“I had a letter from Watson today.”
“Oh? And how are they all?”
“Pretty well, it seems. Rosie is growing and healthy. Reading between the lines though, I deduce a bit of tension between him and Mary.”
“Having a new baby can do that. And has he considered your suggestion?”
Sherlock sighed. “He’s still a bit reluctant to move them all to London… but I think he’ll give in soon. Mary seems in favor of a change of scenery.”
“I think it would be good for them to be here. And goodness knows you could use the help with cases! It seems you’ve got your hands full lately.”
He held her a little tighter. “I hope you’re not regretting your choices. Because you’re right, I do find that I’m busier lately. And who knows what dangers all this case work might bring to our door, especially the more time passes.”
Molly rested her chin on Sherlock’s chest, fingers gently caressing his skin. “Do I look like I’m regretting my choices? If I could, I’d personally thank James Moriarty for making me cry that day and helping to bring us together, no matter how backwards it was.”
“I really mean it, Molly,” Sherlock added, undeterred. “My work as a detective, it won’t always be easy or safe. It won’t always be a lonely wife looking for her worthless husband, or a child looking for their dog. We haven’t been here long, but I’m already starting to see it. This is a world of crime, violence, and death. I don’t know what we might face… what I might have to ask of you.”
Molly looked thoughtful for a brief moment. “You’ve been there for me for a long time, Sherlock, in lots of ways. You didn’t have to do any of it, but you did. I’ve been looking forward to the time when I’d be able to do the same for you. To be there for you, for whatever you need.”
Sherlock’s brow furrowed as emotion tickled in his throat. “This is different,” he whispered. “When I was there for you, the cause was so much greater. It was your happiness, your father’s happiness, your care for him at the end of his life. This is just… my work.”
“Is it? I don’t think that’s really all it is. You putting me first, and now me being here and willing to do anything for you and your work, and all the thousands of times we’ll do so for each other in the future, don’t you see that it’s all the same cause in the end?”
Molly’s lips lifted in a small but deeply contented smile. The kind that calmed him and told him that things were simpler than he was making them out to be in his always churning mind. The kind that comforted him in the knowledge that she wasn’t going anywhere. The kind that told him she was going to be right, even before he heard the words come out of her mouth. Because by now he’d learned, she always was.
“ Love . And surely there can be no greater cause than that.”
The End