Link to last chapter: http://rhaine-weber.tumblr.com/post/36724242912/chapter-two
You Can See Me
A Molly/Sherlock fic by rhaine-weber
Sherlock © BBC
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Author’s Note: Hi! Yes, another chapter already, but I was excited to write this one. We’re going to see the actual plot coming in here, and we’ll get a glimpse of our consulting criminal and our favorite army doctor (who’s not really and army doctor yet, I suppose, but you get the idea). Oooo yes! Also, if anyone is really enjoying this, or wants to correct me on something, feel free to let me know! Okay, so, shout out to anyone who is actually reading this fic. I kind of love you. Yeah.
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Things began to settle into a sort of routine. Sherlock found himself walking with Molly between classes. They rarely spoke, but they were simply comfortable in each other’s presence. Sherlock had stopped trying to answer the question that kept coming back to him. ‘What in god’s name are you doing?’ He wasn’t sure why he found himself keeping tabs on where she was or hanging around her all the time. Maybe it wasn’t important. Anyway, it wasn’t as if she were telling him to stop. Molly welcomed his company, and Sherlock found that she slowly stopped stuttering around him, at least a bit. He could have actual conversations with her, if he wished. She was intelligent. So Sherlock ignored the buzzing questions in his head, and let himself do what he wanted.
Molly kept her eyes on him during English. He seemed abnormally restless today, and her worried eyes kept coming back to the dark haired boy who was shifting around in his seat. He patted his hands against the desk, changing positions a few times. She sighed quietly, picking up her notepad.
‘Something the matter?’ She wrote in her bright blue pen, flashing him the message when his eyes wandered over to her. He gave a small snort, picking up his notepad. Molly’s eyes flashed up to their teacher, the old man trying to hide the fact that he was dozing at his desk.
‘BORED’ Was the slap handed written response in thick black marker. She nodded at him slowly, writing her response in neat letters. Sherlock sat two seats away, and the children at the desks between them were still furiously concentrating on their work. Molly had finished a few minutes ago, and so had Sherlock, apparently.
‘The bell rings in ten minutes, Sherlock.’ She displayed her message, and she held back a giggle as he slumped against his chair, rolling his eyes. ‘Honestly, sometimes he’s just so melodramatic’ She thought, waiting for his response.
‘BUT I’M BORED NOW’ He flashed the message quickly, fixing her with a glare.
She bit her lip, looking around the room for a moment before writing her response.
‘You want to play deductions?’ Her heart leapt at the crooked smile that flashed across his lips.
‘I’LL WIN’ He wrote with a challenging raise of his eyebrows. She rolled her eyes, an amused smile across her lips.
‘Don’t you always? Do you want to play or what?’
He stayed still for a moment before printing his response with only half his attention. His eyes were already moving about the room.
‘WHO’S THE TARGET?’
She nibbled on her bottom lip, wide brown eyes studying everyone in the room, deciding silently on a short blonde boy who’s name she didn’t know. His fingers were buried in his hair in a frustrated manner as he glared down at his paper. He seemed perfect, seeing as neither Molly nor Sherlock knew much about him at all.
Molly looked back at Sherlock, nudging her head in his direction. Sherlock slowly nodded, and Molly could see the gears already turning in his head.
Molly went back to looking at the blonde boy, who was too wrapped up in his work to notice two students staring at him intently. She started scribbling down deductions, studying the boy slowly, taking her time. She knew she wouldn’t win, but when they played this game, Sherlock found that she was a worthy enough opponent, making a few actually intelligent assumptions.
She took a deep breath. She noted the slight faded grass stains on his uniform. Athlete? She nodded to herself, noticing the worn manner of his shoes, slightly dusty from running about the grounds. He bit his lip, padding his fingers against the desk, ruffling his hair, tapping his foot. Always in motion. A boy of action. She nodded, scribbling her findings down. She casted a small glance back at Sherlock. He wasn’t looking at the boy at all. His hand flew across the page, his eyes focused on something she couldn’t see. She found herself smiling fondly. She caught herself, blushing a bit, turning her eyes away. She was supposed to be playing the game. She sighed, furrowing her brow. She noticed his bag leaning against his desk, raggedy, it seemed, like everything else that he owned. She squinted a bit, and smiled, writing ‘John H. Watson’ on her notepad. Sherlock would’ve gotten that already, but at least she hadn’t missed it. She sighed once more in a more exasperated manner. Sherlock would be able to tell her what the boy ate for breakfast, what sports he played, how many siblings he had, and what his great aunt’s favorite color was. Something like that. At least he wasn’t bored now. She smiled once more, and found the bell ringing. She gathered her stuff, slinging her bag over her shoulder, and moving through all the leaving students till she stood by his desk. He still sat, scribbling things on the notebook, eyes distant. She tilted her head to the side. He hadn’t even heard the bell. She touched his shoulder, shaking him gently. “Sherlock, the bell rung, the game is over.” She said softly, and she watched him slowly come back to her, eyes focusing. He looked around the empty classroom (save for the professor, who had been awaken by the bell, and was now trying to remember what class this was). He nodded after a moment, clearing his throat. “Right, quite right, Molly.” He mumbled, gathering his things, holding tightly to his notebook.
He stood, and followed the girl out of the classroom. She looked up at him as they made their usual route down the hall. She hugged her notebook to her chest. “So…what did you find? Everything, I suppose?” She teased, and the a small smug smile found it’s way across his lips. “Tell me what you found first.” He stated simply, and she wrinkled her nose. “Fine.” She said lightly, pulling open her notebook.
“Uh…his name, is John. John H. Watson. He’s an athlete, telling from the grass stains of his uniform, the state of his clothes, and the fact that he’s always in motion.” Sherlock hummed in approval, keeping his eyes forward.
“Um…his favorite subject isn’t English…?” She tried, and he chuckled quietly. “Right, well, better than average Molly, I suppose. Yet you miss most of the important facts.” He stated, and he looked down to find her raising her eyebrow, encouraging him to continue. He smiled.
“You’re right. He doesn’t enjoy English, though he’s quite good at it, actually. His name is John H. Watson, and he is an athlete.” He nodded, clearing his throat. “He plays rugby. There’s bruising on his face, and it’s a smart choice for a boy of a stockier stature. He’s drawn to action, yet isn’t one to get in the middle of things. He’s someone who does before they think, yet he possesses an above average intelligence despite the fact that he’s a bit put off of English. He has an older sibling, obviously.” He paused when she raised her eyebrows further. “Think, Molly. His bag. The thread used to embroider his name on the bag. The thread is brand new yet the bag is obviously not. It most likely had a previous owner.” He nodded his head slowly. Molly blinked a few times. “You’re fantastic.” She said softly, looking straight ahead.
Sherlock looked down at her for a few moments, furrowing his eyebrows. “Fantastic?” He asked with a smug smile. Molly laughed, shoving him gently. “Oh shut it.” She mumbled, an amused twinkle in her light brown eyes. He looked at her for a moment more. She was blushing deeply. Not anything new for her. She seemed to blush much more in his presence, however. He pondered that in silence for a few moments.
“Sherlock?” Her voice broke through his contemplating, and he looked down at her, finding that they had come to a stop. “What are you thinking about?” She asked softly, and he shook his head. “Nothing of importance.” He remarked. She nodded slowly. “Well, this is the boy’s dorm, Sherlock. I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?” She said, gesturing to the door she had stopped at, giving him a small smile. He gave a nod. “Bye, Sherlock.” She called back to him as she made her way down the hall. He watched her for a few moments. “Goodbye, Molly.” He said, too quiet for her to hear, as she had just disappeared across the corner.
Molly smiled to herself as she made her way down the hall. It had been a pleasant enough day, she thought. “Excuse me?” Came the voice, and she turned to see the boy who had spoken. He was a bit older than her, and he stood a few inches taller. His hair was as dark as Sherlock’s, yet straight, hanging a bit over his dark eyes. The was a slight lilt to his voice.
She came towards him a bit. “Um…yes? Is something wrong?” She asked quietly, noting the looking of frustration and confusion across his face. “U-Uh, o-oh yes, you see, I’m n-new here, and I th-think they told me w-where boy’s dorms are, b-but I forgot.” He said, with a slight sheepish smile and a blush in his cheeks that Molly found strangely endearing. “Could you show me, p-please?” He asked, and Molly found a small smile touching her lips. “Oh, yes, sure. She gestured for him to follow her, wide doe eyes peering up at him. “So you’re new here?” She asked softly, and he grinned at her in a way that made her blush. “Oh, yes, I am. I-I’m Jim.” He said, holding out a hand to her. She shook it with a sweet smile. “Molly.” He bit his lip, drawing his hand away.
When they came to a stop at the door of the boy’s dorm, his eyes started to jerk around as if he was nervous, running a hand through his dark hair. “Is something wrong?” She asked softly, and he looked up at her. “Oh, no, just…I-I don’t really know anybody, and…you’re really nice, Molly. Would it be alright if I could…walk with you between classes and s-stuff? I m-mean, I know I’m rotten c-company, but-” She shook her head, a blush now present in her cheeks. “Oh, no, I mean, yes, that’s fine, Jim.” She gave him an easy smile, and he nodded quickly a few times. “Right, okay, I’ll be seeing you then.” He said, giving her a small wave as he disappeared beyond the door. She stood there for a moment, pondering to what she had just agreed to.
It was a good thing of her to help out a new student, right? And Jim was incredibly friendly, nice…sweet. What would be the harm? She wondered how Sherlock would react. Actually, she didn’t really want to think about that.