It Is What It Is

More than two days have passed with no word from Molly about coming back, Sherlock is thankfully helping Greg with a three or a four, so his mind is partially distracted.
Molly is trying not to rush as she would have done before, the old Molly would have dropped everything and go to have her date with Sherlock. But no, she’s trying to do instead what she set out to do, spend a week up here in her old family home with her brother and his partner, to relax. Her mind is worried especially at night. She can’t help but think that it won’t work, every neurone is trying to convince her that it will be more difficult after it doesn’t work, no matter what John says.
He's worried that she won't be back soon, despite their conversation. He’s slightly worried that she will change her mind, because she’d have every right to do so and with reason. Contrary to popular belief, he wonders if he's managed to mess it up somehow. He’s been locked at home with some evidence for a few hours now and she keeps on glancing at his screen. In a moment of weakness, almost a moment of fear, he succumbs to the pull of the phone and texts: I miss you. -SH
Molly had woken up early morning as she had gone for a run. She used to run these trails as a young teenager and the scent of the cedar and the clay on the ground had a soothing effect on her. She had just literally arrived back at her brother's farmhouse when his text arrives. She pulls the phone out from her arm band and reads it. The text puts a smile on her face. It's rather early. She wonders if he has slept, so she texts back: “let me guess” She offers some comic relief. “Steve messed up the microscope lens again :)” The junior pathologist covering for her absence is not the most experienced with older equipment and it wasn’t the first time he had problems with her microscope. In the end she feels bad for having been so non-chalant and she types “I miss you too. MH”
He smiles at her joke and feels stupid and childish for worrying. He shouldn’t worry, but he is honestly glad to find that she hasn't changed her mind. He responds quickly because he's eager to keep her engaged: “No. Lestrade has a three. I could use your expertise, actually. Will you come back soon? -SH” He adds a second message quickly. “I want to see you, Molly. – SH”
She takes a deep breath. She’s not ready. She’s not nearly ready. Not in a million minutes. The fact that Sherlock is insisting… not demanding like he would have done but gently nudging her to come back is both endearing and terrifying in equal amounts. She sits down inside the house and texts him back “I think I'll stay till Friday. The clean air helps. But if you want to talk about a case, or even show me any kind of evidence, you can call or videocall later today?” She's playing it so safe. It feels strange. She’s even finding it surprising for herself. She would have run into this a few years ago, even months ago, but now something seems to pull her back, pulling from her metaphorical ponytail because it hurts. She notices that he hasn’t mentioned the ‘date,’ the ‘experiment,’ so maybe, maybe he's also second-guessing it, maybe he’s even changed his mind completely about it.
I have a better idea. -SH
He knows he can call her, but he wants -needs- to see her. The idea of talking on the phone again does not provide him with the same level of comfort as simply having her in his field of vision. He knows it's ridiculous, but he wants to see her as soon as possible. He hesitates before offering her the idea but then decides to take the plunge he texts her. I will come to you. -SH
Alarm bells are ringing in her head. “What? To Currie? It's 6 hours on a train to Edinburgh!” And she would have to tell her brother. She’s panicking but she can't deny the smile the thought puts in her face, although the fear is equally real.
There is no hesitation in the next text from him. “I like trains. And I have nothing better to do. I'm sure your brother will let me stay for a couple nights. -SH”

She winces. Yeah right, but she knows she doesn’t have the luxury to think about it because then he’ll notice something “Let’s just say he won't say no. Are you sure?”

He feels a strange kind of anxiety, like he's afraid she'll change her mind and say no at any point of their conversations. It’s not a comfortable sense of insecurity, it’s not something he’s used to, not with her. He knows she’s a pragmatist and maybe she’s run through the scenarios that this new development would render and decides against it. He wonders if she has been thinking about this for the last few days and this is her soft way of... rejecting him? Trust Molly not to speak directly, so he texts: “Of course. Do you not want me to come? – SH”

She looks at her screen. She needs to start typing because she knows he’s looking at the screen probably unblinking. “It isn’t that. No. Leave Simon to me. Text me the time you get to Edinburgh. I'll pick you up. And don't complain about the mini. :)”
Relief. So, it’s not her. It’s probably the brother. He smiles as he texts back quickly and with a bit of cheek for good measure. “I look forward to being cramped in a small space with you. -SH”

She raises an eyebrow laughing and texts back immediately too “:p” Her text starts with an emoji. “No complaints about the quietness of the countryside shall be allowed either. Or I'll send you to sleep at the Burke and the Hare museum.”

“Molly, it may be news to you, but I have never been a country boy, but maybe you can convince me there is a charm to it. The museum can be our first date. -SH”

“The game is on, Sherlock! (Beat you to it)”

Sherlock rolls his eyes but he's grinning as he types his response: “Be careful, Molly. I'm a sore loser.”
You misspelled sore. You are a sure loser :)

He's laughing: “Very funny, Molly. I'm going to look for a train. See you soon” He stops himself on the way out as he grabs his coat and types: “Love you. -SH”

Wow. W o w. That shot, that texts were straight to her heart. Unprompted. It was unprompted. He used those words on his own volition and not to anything she typed or said. She looks stunned at the screen of her phone. Simon is coming downstairs on the way out of the house to go to work. Molly was about to type ‘me too.’ She stops and she types quickly once again to make Sherlock laugh: “Me2.” And in a second text. “love you, not me. MH.” Simon realizes his sister has not even noticed him there and smiles watching her.
Sherlock grins as Molly’s response arrives but tries to stifle it as he’s on a cab on the way to King Cross. He likes the idea that he's managed to surprise her, the way she does all the time. He's typing quickly. “Good lord - SH” He decides to tease her with a second message. “I hope your driving in country roads is better than your jokes.”

That’s when Molly sees Simon. Simon looks at her curiously, leaning on the door frame:
- that smile... Is it the new guy?
Molly looks up.
- Yeah... Actually Simon... He is coming over this evening, I think. Is it okay if he stays with us for a couple of days? – She’s actively omitted who this guy is.
Simon rolls his eyes. He's not an idiot. The smile on Molly's face is the only thing he needs to put two plus two together.
- Let me guess. Sherlock Holmes?
He's not surprised. His sister has a history of picking up strays. He sighs in defeat. He has figured it out. It worries him that she lied earlier. He really doesn't like Sherlock, and he really wishes Molly could find someone who... well, who isn't Sherlock.
She looks down at her feet. She’s not going to him; they are both grown adults. She nods looking up. She's not ready to tell him about their future planned date so she colours the truth:
- He's coming for a case. But if it bothers you, I'll book a place in Edinburgh.
He sighs:
- Of course he is. There’s always a case. He doesn’t let go, does he?
He looks at his little sister. He really wouldn’t want to disappoint her but…
- Molly, this guy's a weirdo and not the good kind. He's a jerk, you know he is, do you really want to keep associating with him?
He looks at her with a raised eyebrow, but his tone is affectionate, even if the words seem harsher than her brother usually is.
She has had it with this line of questioning:
- Fine, we'll stay in Edinburgh - She says walking to the back of the kitchen to make some coffee.
Simon sighs, following after her.
- Molly, wait!
He follows her and grabs her by the arm before she turns her back fully to him.
- You're mad. I get it. I just don't like the way this guy treats you, Mols.
Sherlock may be good at finding things, but Simon isn’t an idiot and he’s been watching his sister and the people around her for a long time now, and it hasn’t escaped him the way Sherlock treats Molly.
- So, you keep saying - she says looking at him defiantly - Be careful what you say next, Simon.
- Or what? - Simon lets go of her arm.- Look, I'm sorry. I want you to be happy, Mols. Are you really happy with someone who puts his... who talks you down all the time, who treated you like you … ? He pauses and then says quietly. - You know I never liked the fact you work at the morgue either… You could have been the best surgeon… There you're just surrounded by dead people, and Sherlock Holmes is... kind of the same, he has death around him like a mist...
- Simon, you have absolutely no right to speak to me like that - she says unamused by his tone - I'm 35, Simon. I'm not sixteen anymore and you are behaving exactly like mom would have. This is ridiculous. I'm not even going to try to convince you that Sherlock is a good man. – she says yanking her arm from his grip and continuing making the coffee now obviously mad.
Simon sighs and rubs his jaw, watching her:
- Okay. Fine. I won't say anything else. It's your life, Mols. Just... Be careful, okay?
It's obvious that he wants to say more, but the look on her face as she told him off is enough to convince him not to, she knows when Molly is mad. Besides, he knows when not to push. If he pushes, Molly will push back and will end up on her own with this crazy wacko. He needs to keep a safe distance so he can watch his sister not get into trouble. He gives a small smile and turns around to walk away. He stops and says over his shoulder:
- Don't you dare book a place in Edinburgh.
She half smiles but says quickly, her pride and her kindness all rolled into one:
- I don't want to make you uncomfortable.
Simon rolls his eyes as he walks back and stands in front of her:
- Molly, you're my-pain-in-the-neck little sister. It'll take more than a weirdo detective to make me uncomfortable. And anyway, you've picked a stray cat before, what's one more?
She rolls her eyes but softens:
- Thank you, Simon!
- You're welcome. I'm still not going to like the guy, though - He confirms laughs and gives her a small smile.- You can go back to smiling like an idiot now. I'm going to work.
She walks to the door with a cup of tea in her hand and shouts:
- He'll read you like an open book, Si. So good luck with hiding your dislike of him.
Simon raises his hands in defeat, his face in a full smile:
- Just remember, I warned you.
With that, he turns around and walks out, feeling defeated, but somehow, he's still happy, he's been able to make his sister forget the bad things for a minute and just be happy. He's never liked Sherlock Holmes, and he doesn’t trust the man one bit, but she’ll give Molly some credit as Liam keeps on saying he should. As he's walking down the dirt road towards where he parks the car, his work, he hears Molly giggle. He smiles and shakes his head.
She finishes her coffee and peanut butter toast and heads to the shower so she can be ready to pick Sherlock up later when he texts. Strangely he hasn't texted yet confirming the time of arrival so there's no immediate rush, but she feels the butterflies, the giddiness that makes her want to be on the move, not just a lady in waiting. She could just go to Edinburgh and gallivant for a bit.
Sherlock is now on the train, and he is trying to find a comfortable position, but the cramped space is making it difficult. He's decided to make a list of everything he knows about Molly and her family home in the Highlands of Scotland, and all of this is making it difficult for him to forget about the trip he's making. Not that he minds, but the fact that he's excited to see her is... well, he is not used to feeling this way about anyone. He has to admit he doesn't dislike the feeling, but it needs some getting used to.
Molly is tired of waiting finally. She has got dressed, a midi dress with pockets, patchwork and lots of greens, low crew cut neck. Her hair plaited up. It’s almost 11 a.m. she texts:
- You on the train?
He texts back immediately:
- Yes. How did you know? -SH
- You forgot to text me, you idiot! What time will you be in Edinburgh at? Is it the 3 p.m. train?
He rolls his eyes. He had indeed forgotten to text her the details of the trip. She’s obviously right. He checks, just to be sure, and then texts back.
- Maybe I was trying to surprise you. 3:15. -SH

He pauses and then decides to add so as to hide his own absent-mindedness.
- Were you?
- No. Are you planning a surprise for me?
- If a cranky brother who doesn't like you at all qualifies as a surprise, I am definitely doing that - she texts with a smiley and the same cheek he gave her.
- Right. I’m happy to book a place in Edinburgh.
- Nope. He’s agreed to let you stay.
- Arm-twisting involved?
- I’m a black belt.
- You are not.
- I’m not.
- Knew it.
- You still had to check. – That makes her laugh that he made him hesitate.
- You never know with you.
- You always know, what are you talking about?
- I’m glad you have such high opinions of me.
- Don’t worry, I have enough low opinions of you to compensate too. We don’t need to give you a bigger head.
- We as in?
- The world.
- So, this date
She swallows. He’s tackling head on.
- The experiment.
- Indeed.
- What about it?
- When do you think optimal conditions would be for it?
- You are the lead investigator, you tell me.
- I need more data.
- Cool. I’ll see you at the station in a few hours so, Sherlock.
He doesn’t know if he has struck a nerve or she’s just playing it cool. He would love to have her in front of him to follow her reactions, to anticipate her gestures, to unpack the truth behind her eyes. Soon.
- Perfect, Dr Hooper.
- Safe travels, Mr Holmes.