Whisper Sweet Nothings

#2 in the "Unstoppable Molly Hooper" Series

A/N: This is a stand-alone story. However interactions of Molly and Sherlock are based on events in my previous story. For a better understanding of their relationship I suggest you read "The Unstoppable Molly Hooper." For those who wish to continue without reading the first story, be aware of the following: John has met Mary and their relationship will continue to evolve and well as John's friendship with Molly. Molly is now proficient in martial arts and street fighting. She is more confident and falls back into her stuttering mousey ways less frequently. She still has lots of room to grow and she is still very much the vulnerable Molly we are all familiar with. Sherlock has had some major struggles with himself about how he feels about Molly. He keeps wanting to slide back into his comfort zone but has at last, recognized that Molly Hooper is someone important in his life. Their relationship at the beginning of this story is limited to friendship and a few spectacular kisses. But cheer up, as in real life, relationships develop over time or they tend to wither. What's in store for our favorite pair? Only time will tell!

Chapter One - The Besiege of Bart's

The tall red-haired girl had been with the man who called himself Jacob for two weeks. At first they had been very silly and very happy. It was a vacation dream. Then as time passed the girl seemed to realize she was trapped and that he was not going to let her go. She became watchful, then fearful. Not even the drugs had helped. In the end the decision to part from her was inevitable.

Her body lay slumped over the arm of the overstuffed chair. Her pebbled skin already cooling. He watched as the last shuddering breath escaped and hung in the air and was replaced with silence.

Stooping, the tall man gathered the body into his arms and carried her over to the prepared bed. He tenderly laid her on the ivory satin. Arranging the body to his satisfaction, he crossed the room and picked up the long florist's box containing three long-stem red roses. Slowly pulling each petal away, he scattered them around her body.

Standing at the foot of the bed, the man who called himself Jacob gazed at his work of art. She was perfect. He began to take digital pictures of the body from several different angles. Satisfied, he posed her hands on her stomach for one last photo. He withdrew a small plastic wrapped card from his wallet. Removing the wrapping, his gloved hands positioned the card in hers.

It read:

Victory becomes apparent

As life wanes in defeat.

Death now holds dominion

Thy beauty is complete.

He paused, took one last photo, collected his things and slipped away. The man who called himself Jacob knew his work was finished, for now.

ɸ

Molly Hooper sat at her desk filling out the endless paperwork that seemed to take up most of her time lately. She was bored. Bored with her job that suddenly seemed so routine day after day. She was bored with her tiny flat that was hardly more than a couple of rooms with a bath. Even Toby, her grey striped cat bored her. She hadn't heard him purr in ages and all he seemed to want to do was sleep. "It's just ridiculous," she told herself. "my life is so dull and repetitive, rather tedious in fact." She paused then shook her head sadly. "Great, now I'm beginning to sound just like him."

If truth be told, her reason for boredom was Sherlock's fault she childishly told herself. She hadn't heard a word from him in over two weeks. Since her adventures in helping capture Moriarty she had grown accustomed to the excitement and thrills of helping Sherlock and John with their cases. She felt strangely alone and sad. She knew it was partly her fault and bitterly regretted running away at the first sign of trouble. She should have stayed and fought. Part of her wanted to lay the entire blame at Sherlock's feet. There seemed little she could do about it now. Her mind drifted back to that evening two weeks before:

She had just finished a grueling day. Bart's was short staffed. Dr. Lodwick, the senior pathologist, had suffered a heart attack the week before; though he was recovering nicely, he had decided to take early pension. That meant the remaining pathologists had to pick up the extra work load until a new staff member could be hired. Molly was exhausted. She was just finishing the reports on her last post mortem when her desk phone rang.

A pre-recorded message played: "Dr. Hooper, this is Pauline Rodrick, Efficiency Consultant for Solutions Incorporated. As you have been previously informed, our group has been hired to interview staff and to inspect facilities in order to comply with new government guidelines. We will be making recommendations for changes that will allow St. Bartholomew's Hospital to run at maximum efficiency. This is a reminder that your mandatory interview is scheduled at 4:15 this afternoon. Please be prompt. Thank you for your assistance in this matter."

Molly grimaced at the phone. She had heard about the "interviews" conducted by Ms. Rodrick and her associates. Rumors claimed that at least five percent of staff were going to be terminated in the name of government efficiency.

4:15 found Molly sitting in the waiting area outside the interview rooms. A small pert blonde woman came through the doors and asked for Dr. Molly Hooper.

"That's me." Molly smiled and stood up. She was determined to be positive and good natured throughout this interview. After all, she knew she was an excellent pathologist and had no need to worry about job security.

Molly was ushered into an office. Seeing a striking brunette seated behind a desk Molly smiled and extended a hand.

"Good afternoon Ms. Rodrick" she smiled I'm Molly Hooper. Her smile was met with a cool stare. Ignoring Molly's hand she nodded and indicated a chair for Molly to sit in. Smile fading, Molly sat and discovered that the chair she was sitting in caused her to be several inches shorter than the woman across the desk.

"Psychological war is it?" Molly thought grimly. and straightened her back to allow herself to be as tall as possible.

"Dr. Hooper," Ms. Rodrick looked up from a stack of papers inside a folder, "I understand you have been with St. Bart's for seven years? Two of those as a intern and five as a pathologist?"

"Yes."

"Initially, you studied to become an Oncologist, Unusual for you to change career paths. What was the reason for your decision to switch to pathology?" She made the question sound as if Molly had done something wrong.

Molly forced a smile. She was expecting something like this.

"At the time my father was dying of cancer," she said simply. "I found the difficulties of dealing with his illness and studying the subject to be overwhelming. Pathology had always been my second choice. After counseling with Dr. Lodwick, I made the decision to change. I have never regretted it."

"So you are saying you settled for your second choice because you were unable to achieve your first choice?"

Molly frowned slightly, "No, Ms. Rodrick, I am saying that due to some excellent counseling I was guided into the area that best suited my abilities. I think you will find I have an excellent rating for my work."

Pauline Rodrick made no answer, just typed away on her laptop. She continued to ask questions about the organization and running of the morgue. The questions seemed to go on forever. Each question was slanted so that Molly felt it necessary to clarify each question before she answered. She felt as if she was being questioned by the prosecution and any mistake she might make could land her with a life sentence in prison.

I know what you are doing, she thought angrily to herself. You're trying to trick people into saying what you want them to say whether it's true or not.

The questioning continued. Sometimes a question she had already answered was asked in a slightly different manner. Molly grimly continued to carefully respond.

"And now, Dr. Hooper, It has come to our attention that you have authorized several non-government, non-hospital employees to have access to the morgue, the lab, and all its resources?"

"If you are referring to Mr. Sherlock Holmes, and Dr. John Watson, my answer is yes." Molly agreed. "All the proper paper work is filed and authorized."

"Um, yes," Ms Rodrick murmured. "I believe there is some question as to the notorious reputation of Mr. Holmes? He has quite a lot of negative press reviews and public opinion is quite mixed as to his authenticity. Perhaps this is not a good time for this facility to be associated with such a person?"

For the first time Molly saw red. She dearly wanted to slap Ms. Rodrick's sanctimonious face.

"I think you will find that he has been cleared of all accusations and is currently working closely with Scotland Yard," she said rather heatedly.

Ms Rodrick nodded thoughtfully. After a long pause she stated, "Well, that appears to finish the interview. Be advised that I will be inspecting the morgue and surrounding facilities tomorrow. Please have an inventory of all equipment available. You may go."

"Thank you," Molly said with more grace than Ms. Rodrick deserved. and walked proudly from the room.

ɸ

The next day brought Ms Rodrick and three associates to the morgue. They went over everything with a fine tooth comb. It was a nightmare. Molly and Tommy Reynolds, the other pathologist working that day, tried to continue their normal routine while being constantly interrupted by questions. Ms Rodrick could be seen constantly making notes on her ever present laptop. Finally around four o'clock in the afternoon they were finished. Molly sighed with relief and headed for her office. As she passed through the lab, she noticed Sherlock sitting in front of a microscope looking at slides. Molly glanced behind her and to her dismay saw Ms. Rodrick heading down the hallway toward the lab. Molly quickly sidled close to Sherlock and spoke rapidly.

"Heads up Sherlock, here she comes! Watch what you say." There wasn't time to say more. Molly desperately hoped it would be enough. She continued on her way to her office. The last thing she wanted was to get stuck in the middle of a conversation with that woman.

Pauline Rodrick paused as she entered the lab. Seeing Sherlock seated behind a microscope she slowly looked him up and down and evidently liked what she saw. She moved across the room and introduced herself. Sherlock smiled and seemed to enjoy the conversation. Molly couldn't hear what was being said. Pauline Rodrick moved even closer to Sherlock and smiled at him. Molly snorted as she peeked through her office window. If the woman got any closer she would have to climb into his lap. Molly frowned, Sherlock acted as if he wouldn't mind if she did.

"I hope he's just up to something. Surely he doesn't like her?" she thought rather jealously.

By the time Molly had cleared her desk and gathered her things to go home, Sherlock and Ms. Rodrick were no where to be seen. Molly desperately hoped they had not left together. She looked at the clock. Half past five. Molly sighed. If she was going to be ready in time for their date later, she needed to leave now. Sherlock had asked her out to dinner and to an evening of classical music. Something they both enjoyed. Molly had been looking forward to this date all week.

Rushing up the steps to her flat, Molly quickly thrust the key into the lock. Opening the door she hurried to her bedroom and opened the closet door. She looked at her watch. Darn that Pauline Rodrick, she had delayed Molly just long enough that there wasn't time to wear the dress she had planned on wearing. She looked sadly at the beautiful midnight blue dress. It would just take too long getting ready. A dress like that required careful makeup and upswept hair. Neither of which she had time for. She would just have to settle for the green dress. There was nothing wrong with the green dress, it was totally appropriate for the evenings activities. Molly gave one last sigh for the beautiful blue gown and thrust the green one over her head. A quick comb through her hair, allowing it to flow freely down her back. A fast touch up of her makeup and a fresh application of lipstick and she was ready. As she slipped her feet into black heels and picked up her evening bag she heard a knock at the door. She opened the door and smiled up at Sherlock. He looked so handsome standing there.

"Are you ready?" he asked, "I'm afraid we are running a little late."

"I'm ready." Molly replied.

Sherlock nodded, then paused. "I like your hair that way." he said softly. Then he ruined everything by saying. "Have you gained a little weight?" He continued to study her and then shook his head. "No, I don't think so. It must be the way the material drapes over your hips," he concluded.

"Sherlock! I don't believe even you can be so dense!" Molly exploded.

At his look of puzzlement Molly groaned with exasperation.

"Well at least you will never hear me say Oh Sherlock does this dress make me look fat? I won't have to. You will have already told me whether I want to hear it or not!" Molly glared at him. "Oh come on," she said. She softened her glare to a smile. He really was clueless. "If that's the worst thing you do tonight, I'll manage."

Their dinner progressed without a hitch. Of course Molly didn't have much of an appetite, but everything went smoothly until they reached the concert hall and everything went downhill. They were crossing the foyer when Molly heard a distinctive voice call out.

"Oh there you are Sherlock! I was afraid something had happened."

Molly stared, her mouth open in amazement. Crossing the foyer to them was Pauline Rodrick. She was wearing the most beautiful dress Molly had ever seen. Definitely not off the rack. Her hair and makeup were flawless. She was gorgeous. Molly felt like a rather tacky circus clown beside her. Pauline swept up and gave Sherlock a kiss on the cheek. She glanced at Molly. "Oh hello, fancy seeing you here."

"I was about to say the same about you," Molly said with deadly sweetness.

Sherlock smiled at them both and held out his elbows to escort them to their seats. He apparently missed the looks the two women gave each other behind his back. Seated, the lights dimmed and the music began. It was lovely, each note perfect. It was everything Molly had been looking forward to and she didn't hear a single note.

"Why had he done this to her?" She would have gotten up and left, except he had hold of her arm and refused to let go.

During intermission, Pauline headed for the restrooms and Molly took the opportunity to whisper fiercely to Sherlock. "I want to go home! Let go of me or I'll use some of my more inventive moves on you and you'll sing soprano for a week!" Molly growled.

Sherlock looked startled. "Molly, relax, I'm just trying to butter her up a little so she won't find a reason to deny me access to Bart's. Surely you realize that?"

"Oh I realize a lot, Sherlock. And if you try to butter that one up any more she is going to fry you in it and eat you for breakfast. I for one do not intend to be around to watch her do it." With that Molly jerked her arm free and as Pauline returned Molly gave them a tight smile and told Sherlock. "Don't get up. I am perfectly able to ask for a cab. Call me tomorrow." She left Sherlock staring after her.

Once in the cab. It was as if a dam burst. Molly couldn't even begin to stop the tears. The cabbie kept looking at her in his mirror with concern. He passed back several tissues which Molly gratefully used. It wasn't long before they were sodden messes and the cabbie silently passed back fresh tissues. Pulling up in front of Molly's flat, Molly gulped and continued to mop up tears.

"Are you going to be alright Miss?" the cabbie asked.

"Nothing that about a hundred years won't fix." Molly sniffed.

"He ain't worth it Miss," the Cabbie advised. "Any man who would upset a beautiful woman like you doesn't deserve you. If he was here right now I'd beat the living daylights out of him for you."

"Thank you. You are a true gentleman." Molly smiled through her tears.

"You just take my advice and dump him," The cabbie told her. "Remember when he comes crawling back that he ain't worth it."

The next morning when Molly had called Sherlock's flat there was no answer. Molly wondered if he had made it back to Baker Steet at all. Knowing the predatory Pauline he was probably at her place. Molly told herself that she didn't care. He was free to date whom ever he wished. He'd just better not expect her to come along as well!

That was two weeks ago. In all that time there had been no word, nothing. Molly had dropped in to see Mrs. Hudson and found out that Sherlock and John were in Sussex working on a case. Something or the other about a vampire. Molly was sure Mrs. Hudson was mistaken.

Molly sat and looked at her mobile. She wanted to text him, she really did. Something, stubbornness she suspected, kept her from doing it. Molly sighed. She was so bored. She looked at all the paperwork piled up on her desk. She had lots to do but she couldn't concentrate on it. As she laid the phone down and started to resume work, it jingled alerting her of an incoming text.

I miss you

SH

Molly stared. Tears began to fall as she texted a return message.

I miss you too

Molly

John says I'm an idiot

SH

I agree with John

Molly

There was a very long pause and Molly wondered if perhaps she had ruined things again. Then she heard the familiar tones.

Can we try this again when I get back? Dinner and a Concert? Just you and me

SH

Molly smiled. Suddenly she wasn't bored. She felt as if she could fly.

I would like that very much :)

I would tell you to give John a kiss from me,

but people might talk

Molly

Funny

Be home soon

SH

A/N I've been reading an excellent fanfic by footshooter called The Sussex Vampire, so when I needed to get John and Sherlock out of town for a while in this story, I couldn't resist sending them off to Sussex. Be sure to check out footshooter's fanfic, it's great.

A/N again- As always- reviews are the sustenance of writers. Please feed me.