First chapter is Molly's perspective. Second chapter is Sherlock's. Each chapter was actually the beginnings of separate stories and then I realized they were different parts of the same story so I rewrote to make them fit together. The story is a little rough around the edges, all constructive criticism is welcome. I haven't written much in over two years. Got to shake that rust off.
Whole inspiration came from The Hush Sound's song "Love You Much Better". Do yourself a favor and have a listen to hear the perfect Molly song.
Why do you sing to everybody but me
Why do I let it go on
You've got such a music box song
In my head all day long
-Love You Much Better by The Hush Sound
Molly Hooper had never really been a jealous person. Of course she would watch the blonde girls toss their hair and giggle at a cute boys' joke, and she would feel a twinge of envy. But then she would remember it wasn't the girls' fault that they were more vivacious. There was no use in being jealous. That feeling quickly faded anyways once she threw herself into her studies. It didn't take long for her to graduate from university with highest honors and to land a job where she didn't much have to interact with anybody.
That was how Molly preferred it. The hospital wasn't much better than a glorified adult version of high school with its complex social hierarchy and a gossip mill that rivaled any she had witnessed in school. The thing is, dead bodies kind of throw people off so it was like she was the lone island in the middle of nowhere. That is how Molly ended up 29 with few social skills despite her watchful observations of the outside world.
There wasn't much use for jealousy in her world and she was proud of that fact. That is until a certain consulting detective swept into her life with his swishy coat and electric eyes that observed everything around him. Molly would be the first to admit that her initial reaction was purely physical. He was a beautiful man, there was no denying it. But after working with him, she realized just how brilliant he was and that there was something alluring about him. Anytime she forced herself out to the bars or was set up on a blind date by a coworker, she was always amazed by the lack of intelligence. Molly wasn't looking for a genius, but she would have preferred somebody who at least knew what was on the periodic table or knew that her job didn't entail working with zombies. She felt like she wasn't holding onto unreasonable expectations. So here comes this man who not only understands her work, but has an appreciation for it. She kept telling herself that it was only natural that she would fall for him.
Molly wasn't blind to the fact that he didn't feel that way about her. But, she comforted herself in the fact that he didn't seem to have those feelings for anybody. He seemed to have no emotional attachments. She had an idea that maybe she could wake up those feelings in him, so sometimes she flirted, put on make-up, something she usually didn't bother with, or on occasion tried to ask him out. It always failed, but at least it wasn't her…at least that is what she thought.
The day that John Watson came into his life, Molly felt the first sharp pangs of true jealousy in her life. Suddenly her notion of how Sherlock interacted with people was turned upside down.
"Hello there. I'm Sherlock's partner, John Watson." He extended his hand as a kind smile graced his features.
"Molly Hooper. I've worked with Sherlock for a couple years now," she responded meekly.
"Oh?" John turned to Sherlock, who was already examining the corpse of their victim. "He didn't mention it."
"Um, that's Sherlock for you."
He steps toward Sherlock. "You should have introduced me to your friend Dr. Hooper, Sherlock."
"She is not my friend," Sherlock concisely responded. "We already had this discussion about friendships with me."
She should have predicted those words as they fell from his lips, but she couldn't stop the sting anyways. She hunched forward a little and shuffled a distance away, trying to ignore the pitying look from John.
"That wasn't very kind," John hissed toward Sherlock.
"It is the truth. Dr. Hooper is useful for the corpses she provides for my research and the use of her laboratory facilities, nothing else."
"Do you see me in the same way?"
"Of course not John." Although here, Sherlock seemed to hesitate. "You help pay the rent, are a useful talking companion, and sometimes provide company."
"That is a friend, Sherlock."
"Oh… Well, I never said you were not a friend. So, I really do not see what the issue is. Now, can you take a closer look at this arm John, and see if you see what I see?"
She stopped her lurking as the conversation turned to work and she hurried off to her office to finish up on some paperwork. John and Sherlock's interactions stuck with her, though. The rest of the night Molly couldn't rid herself of the dark, oozy feeling in her gut. Even as she sat in front of the telly, watching a crap reality show with a generous glass of white wine, she still felt the weight of what happened earlier. It was only then, as the wine sunk into her system, that she realized that she was feeling true jealousy for the first time.
Molly had assumed that Sherlock was a person that had no use for social interactions, or that he just needed time to warm up to her. As if two years wasn't long enough for somebody to warm up to me, she scornfully thought. Nonetheless, what she witnessed today contradicted everything she had presumed about Sherlock. He was a man who did have relationships, just not with her. He had stated it bluntly and clearly, she was not his friend. How could she possibly hope for more after that. But John had the privilege of getting to know the brilliant Sherlock and even got to live with him. Molly wondered what was special about him that got Sherlock to open his life up to this stranger. She could no longer delude herself into believing that it wasn't her. She now had proof that there was something deficient about her.
Her jealousy toward John Watson never exactly faded, but she did grow to adore the man. He was kind to her and always asked about her life and work. She did the same for him and along the way they became friends. It was a balm to the nasty wound from her jealousy. She could count on him to bring her into the conversation and he did not ignore her existence until she was of use. Molly appreciated John and realized that there was nothing romantic between him and Sherlock, she had initially wondered like the rest of them. She went back to her regularly scheduled programming of pining and fantasizing.
Then Irene Adler came into her life, or more like her corpse. She couldn't fathom how Sherlock could identify her based off her body and not her face. She willed herself to ignore the obvious. It became more difficult to ignore after the case and John's blog wrote all of the scandalous details. Irene was the only woman that could get under the skin of Sherlock. Irene was the equal to Sherlock in intelligence and callousness. Molly easily searched the woman up online and she had to admit that Irene was breathtaking. Her beauty was the type that brought cities to ruin. A modern Helen.
Molly wanted to know more, but she knew that John would see through her. He was more astute than his partner when it came to her feelings. She didn't want to look anymore pathetic than she already did. She eased her mind in the knowledge that Irene Adler had left and had not been heard of in years. She also told herself that a man liked Sherlock didn't need a woman like Irene, who would manipulate and play games with him. While she was sure that they had their fun together, it wasn't something that could be sustaining. Just like chocolate cake was delicious, but you needed to have some fruit and vegetables now and again. God, she was comparing herself to food. She needed to get a life.
Things settled back into their routines, until Moriarty upset the whole system. She took pride in how she helped him against his greatest foe. His sweet words about how she mattered the most made her forget every jealous thought she had ever had. But then he was gone and she had to face her day to day life. That was when she met Tom.
Tom never unsettled her in anyway. He was reliable, kind, and gentle. There was nothing for her to fret over. One night at a pub, Tom had gone up to the bar to grab their drinks. A woman, very attractive, sidled up to Tom. Molly could tell that she was flirting with Tom. She waited for the familiar pangs of jealousy to appear, but none came. She had assumed at the time that it meant that she trusted Tom completely, after all he did brush off the woman and rejoin Molly, but later, she wondered if it had more to do with the fact that she didn't have those same strong feeling for Tom that she had for Sherlock. Once she realized that, she started to have the first seeds of doubt in their engagement.
"Sherlock will never love you like I do."
"What are you talking about?"
"Like I haven't seen the way you look at him. He isn't good for you. He will only break your heart. I promise I will never hurt you."
"But I will hurt you. You deserve somebody who loves you madly instead of the girl who sees you as the safe choice.
Tom was right, though, Sherlock would break her heart. When the urine test came back positive, her heart shattered. He was better than this, any of this. Why couldn't see it? She could see it. John could see it. So could Mary. There was a room of people who cared about him and he was going to throw it away. That was when the fury jumped in. It was a change from the persistent jealousy she felt around him.
She couldn't stay mad long because then he was shot and then 48 hours later the tabloids started grabbing her attention. She was left in a dizzy shock of emotions. After reading the first article, she finally realized that she and Sherlock were never going to happen. She really wanted to hate Janine, but Molly remembered her from the wedding and she had been nice. The details of the articles upended what she had believed about Sherlock and relationships, that he was incapable of romance. Janine gave vivid details about their adventurous sex life and the romantic gestures, including proposing to her with a giant diamond ring that she had kept. Molly knew that she was torturing herself and should just quit, but she justified that this was a sort of purging of Sherlock from her system. She wanted it all gone from her system so she could have some semblance of a normal relationship with Sherlock. She could be his pathologist and nothing more.
That was how she found herself in her pajamas on a night in, reading the latest tabloid that Janine sold her story to. It had been a couple of months, and the stories had petered out, but this one caught her eyes as it promised new details of the wedding that Janine had pictured with Sherlock.
The doorbell rang, startling Molly out of her daydreams. She knew the only person that would be calling this late, so she quickly hid the magazine under a stack of books on her coffee table and went to answer the door.