DAY 7: FREE CHOICE

THE BEARD

10 March 2018

Summary: Sherlock's new facial hair makes John wonder if he's using again.

Theme: Free Choice (Non-Canon/Headcanon)

Rating: T, for some mild references to past drug use, mild sexual references, and a bit of cursing.

A/N: Sherlock's scruffy look in TLD was so sexy that I thought, if he hadn't been nearly dying from his drug abuse, Molly would find it hot and sexy as well. (She probably did despite the drugs thing.)

Plus I'm always down for making fun of John's TEH moustache. *snickers*

Hope y'all enjoy this one!

I don't own these characters. They belong to Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, BBC, Steven Moffat, and Mark Gatiss. If I owned Sherlock and Molly Hooper, then there would be a lot more Sherlolly in the show. All mistakes are mine. Reviews and constructive criticism are welcome; I only ask that you'd be mindful of your words.

John stared at Sherlock, who had squatted down next to the besuited corpse to examine him with his magnifying glass, and wondered if he was using drugs again. Not likely. He promised Molly he'd never go near the damn things again.

He also wondered if Sherlock had experienced another traumatic event. But, as far as he knew, Sherlock's parents, Mycroft, Lady Smallwood, and even Eurus were alive and at least physiologically healthy. And he and Molly had been going out for over a year. But then again, he's not really the type to tell me personal things. He pulled out his mobile and sent a text to Mary.

Is everything fine with Sherlock's family? – JW

Mary's reply came quickly.

Yeah. Well, besides his mum's hypertension, that is. But that's been going on for a while. Why are you asking? – MW

Have you seen Sherlock lately? – JW

Saw him yesterday during tea with Molly and Mrs Hudson. And he's always on Molly's Snapchat. He's clean, if that's what you wanna know. 😉– MW

What's with the winking face? – JW

He put his phone back in his pocket when Mary did not reply. Whilst he was relieved, he was frustrated that he still had not cracked this new mystery.

Turning his attention back to Sherlock, he caught another glimpse of it. He knitted his eyebrows together and sent Lestrade a questioning look. The furrows on his forehead deepened and John let out a quiet sigh at his shrug.

His eyes followed Sherlock as he stood and moved to the other side of the corpse. Now, John could clearly see the beard on his usually clean-shaven face. Looks like it's at least a few weeks' growth, he observed. He spied auburn hairs amidst the dark brown, making him wonder which of Sherlock's parents had auburn hair before they turned grey. Was he so bored whilst we were on holidays in Dublin and Hawaii that he started growing a beard?

He pretended to focus on the body when Sherlock briefly looked up, allowing him another proper look at his facial hair. Of fucking course Sherlock Holmes grows a beard, and it actually makes him more attractive, he bitterly thought, his hand rising to brush his bare upper lip as if it had a mind of its own.

A text alert rang out, and Sherlock pulled his mobile out of his coat pocket as he rose to his feet. He read the message before briefly bending down to peer and sniff at the body. He straightened up and turned to Lestrade as he typed something on his phone. "Send the body over to Barts. Molly should be catching up on paperwork, so she'd be thrilled to conduct a postmortem." He smirked before pointing at the corpse. "There's light perfume on his clothes. I doubt he'd be wearing eau de toilette for women, but you never know," he observed with a shrug.

Lestrade reviewed his notes. "Um, victim is a widower. And single."

John folded his arms across his chest. "So he's either secretly involved with a woman, who wears this perfume, or––"

"Or he just really likes to smell like a blend of lilies, sandalwood, orange blossom, ylang-ylang, and jasmine."

"Gotcha," Lestrade muttered as he jotted down what Sherlock said about the perfume. "Anything else?"

"I'm certain the postmortem would confirm my theory, but I'll need to meet his children to be sure."

Lestrade nodded. "All right. We're still trying to contact Mr Wilkins's next of kin. But I'll call you once I've talked to them." He turned to a police constable, effectively dismissing them.

Putting his phone back in his pocket, Sherlock began walking towards the main road.

John hurried to catch up with him. "Um, Sherlock––"

"Molly likes it." He glanced at John with a cheeky smirk on his lips. "The beard," he clarified, gesturing at his face.

He stared at the space in front of him. "It's… It's a sex thing, isn't it?" He grimaced, dreading the answer.

Sherlock only gave him a mysterious grin. "Get Mr Wilkins's address and family information from Lestrade. Go with him when he speaks with his next of kin at the station. See which of his children or their significant other smells like the eau de toilette on Mr Wilkins's clothes. Text me or call me. Then we'll go from there."

John nodded. "And where will you be going?"

"Barts, of course. I estimate the body will arrive at Barts within half an hour. Plenty of time to check on my experiments and distract Molly from her paperwork." At that, Sherlock hailed a cab.

John shut his eyes tightly and wish he had not asked. He exhaled and started to walk back towards Lestrade. I think Mary would like a full beard on me.

Stood between Sherlock's thighs, Molly wrapped her arms round his neck and kissed him. She winced when he squeezed her right breast through her jumper. "Sherlock!" she hissed. "Be careful with that."

He pulled away just long enough for him to start leaving a trail of kisses down her chin and throat. "Sorry," he said between kisses. "Speaking of which, how was your appointment with Dr Pravesh?"

Giggling, she pulled back and raised an eyebrow at him. "What do you think?"

"Oh? You're letting me deduce you?"

She rolled her eyes. "I know you deduce me all the time. You've just learnt to discern when to keep your deductions to yourself and when to blurt them out. Well, most of the time," she amended with a cheeky wink. "And you always know how to use them to your advantage." She gently ran her thumbs along his cheekbones. "How do you think it went?"

He broke into a wide grin. "You're eight weeks along?"

The brightness of her smile matched his. "Yes!" She raked her fingers through his curls and then through his beard. "You can shave this off now, you know?"

Humming in thought, he touched his beard. "Oh, I don't know. It's grown on me."

"So, what, you won't shave until our baby is born?" she asked with a chuckle. "That's, like, 32 weeks from now. You do realise that I'll probably be super horny during the pregnancy, and you won't need a beard to get me going, don't you?"

Chuckling, he pulled her down for a snog. "I know. But I really like your reactions to my beard. And it's fun to watch John dislike the fact that I have a better beard than he ever did."

She laughed. "But he didn't have a beard. He only had a moustache."

"But it didn't enhance his features. It made him look so much older!" He smirked. "He was so baffled at the crime scene. He kept staring at me and trying to figure out if I'm using again. He probably thought something traumatic has happened to me again."

She frowned at him. "He's just worried, you clot. Because the last time you didn't shave, you nearly died from all the drugs you pumped into your system."

"Yes, well, Mary was dying because of me. We didn't know if she was going to pull through."

She brushed his hair and kissed him on the forehead. "I know, honey. At least now, John will hopefully associate your scruff with your wife's kink, not your past drug use."

Sherlock nodded a few times. "All right." He tightened his hold on her. "How would you like it if I kept the beard till you start your second trimester, Dr Holmes?"

Softly chuckling, Molly gave him a tender peck on the lips. "That's good enough for me, Mr Holmes."

So what do y'all think? Hate it? Like it? Love it?