Chapter Text
It started, like most good things, with a cup of tea. It was never really planned. It just happened,
Molly had just finished a long day at the morgue and was in need of a good cup of tea and she knew the perfect place to stop.
Mycroft was out of tea. His staff was all off on holiday and he never went shopping. Luckily he knew a little tea shop whose owner owed him a favor.
Molly stepped out of the hospital. It’s such a nice day, she thought. I think I’ll walk today, I could do with the air.
Mycroft didn’t know how to drive. He hadn’t bothered to learn seeing as he was the British Government and the British Government doesn’t drive himself places. He was lucky the shop was close.
Molly ambled down the street, humming slightly. It was nice to be out alone. Of course, she spent her entire day with only one other person, and he was dead.Being a mortician meant she didn’t get much human company. Even more so now, after Sherlock left. He more than left, and it hurt, but at least she knew.
Mycroft walked as inconspicuously as he could, but it just drew more stares. He remembered how lucky it was the shop was so close. He made it to the shop and went in. This used to be one of Sherlock’s favorite shops. He stopped that train of thought immediately. It hurt to remember he left. But at least he knew.
Molly reached the shop, pausing before going in. She had seen John here sometimes, and she wasn’t sure how awkward that would be. John didn’t know and if she saw him, she wasn’t sure if she would be able to keep that secret. She couldn’t see anyone anymore for the fear she would tell them. She hadn’t seen any of her police friends for weeks, maybe months, she hadn’t seen John for even longer. She didn’t trust herself anymore.Molly knew she couldn’t act like this forever, but she had to keep going for as long as she could.
Mycroft sat down at a table in the corner, sipping a small mug of tea. He knew John wouldn’t appear today, which was part of the reason he came. Mycroft had carefully monitored his schedule, and knew that he was working today for at least two more hours.
The only empty seat in the entire place was across from a man. Quite a strange man at that. No one goes out for tea in black tie attire. Normally she would go find another shop or wait for a seat to open up but right then she was too tired and caffeine deprived that she didn’t care. She plonked down in the seat.
“Do you mind if I sit here?”
Mycroft looked up at the girl standing in front of him. She looked vaguely familiar, and with a start Mycroft realized he had seen her working with Sherlock at one point. The mortician as he remembered. She was smaller than in her surveillance photographs, although Mycroft had learned not to completely base appearances off of those. They always came out a little grainy and distorted.For example, John looked tall in several of them.
Molly was quickly becoming extremely uncomfortable. The man had jumped when she first sat down and then stared at her quite intensely. He had been staring for a solid minute when she realized that he had the same look on his face that Sherlock always had when he was in his ‘mind meadow’ or whatever he called it. This only reassured her a little bit. It was scary seeing that look on someone else’s face.
Mycroft realized he was staring. Oh. This was awkward. Not only had he been slightly cold when she had first sat down, he had been staring at her for sixty-seven point five seconds without blinking. He had never been good at acting normal like Sherlock, but this was a little much, even for him.
“Is something wrong?” Molly asked, breaking the uncomfortable silence.
“Nothing. It-It’s nothing.” Mycroft replied, wondering how quickly he could manufacture an emergency to get out of there.
“Okay. I’m Molly.” she said, giving him what she knew looked exactly like a routine smile.
“Molly. Hi.” Mycroft said. “I’m...uh...John.” John? Where did that come from? he thought immediately after. “Well, it’s actually Jonathan, but I usually go by John, er, but either is fine…” he trailed off, knowing he sounded stupid.
Molly panicked a little at the name John, but she didn’t know why. This wasn’t the John she knew and she had been sitting with him for five minutes. It was a stupid thing to worry about. There were a lot of Johns, it was a common name, after all. The table fell quiet for a moment, both still slightly nervous.
“Do you want a cup of tea?” It just tumbled out of him. He wished he could take it back as soon as he said it. He, Mycroft Holmes, had just asked to buy a woman a drink. Tea, but still. This was not something he did.
Molly gestured to her own cup. “Well, I’ve already got one.”
“Oh.” Mycroft said, startled again at the sheer stupidity he was displaying. “Yes, of course.”
He looked so disappointed. “I’m free tomorrow, if you wanted to get tea then?” Molly said, surprised at her suddenness. The man (John, his name is John) looked completely shocked. “Really?”
“Really.”