A thorn by any other name would hurt just as deep, or whatever the saying is.
~~~
Greg Lestrade would say Sherlock Holmes was always the smartest in the room. Whether at 221B or Scotland Yard, no ordinary person ever came close to compete with his...
The day soon arrived. Well, not the day, but one of the many important ones you have coming up within the next few weeks.
"You would really rather go shopping with two goldfish instead of us?" Jim folds his arms as you throw him a mask. The toxic chemicals within the lab held in the basement of his home could instantly knock him out, so masks were mandatory.
The lab consisted of two rooms, the smaller room holding safety equipment and a glass window allowing viewing of the main lab. A large bolted door separates these two rooms, Jim standing at the unsealed doorway.
He burst in when Sebastian informed him about the plans you mentioned earlier. Jim was lucky you were only halfway through the process of making your toxin, or else passing out would be the least of his worries.
"Outside," you direct, pointing to the door.
"Fine, fine," he shuts the door and places the mask down on the table. He held the intercom, making sure it was connected to the right hazmat suit, the one you wore. "Now tell me why,"
"It isn't a big deal, Jim," you take out a Bunsen burner, making sure the solution sits just at the right height. "I'll go shopping with you for the Rockwell meeting,"
"Not the point," he waves his hand while you spin your chair to look at him. "I wanted my opinion heard,"
"And it will be," you spin back, "just as soon as I buy it and wear it so it can't be returned if you hate it,"
Jim throws his hands up in defeat, the intercom still on, so you can hear his grumbles of annoyance, too. "Fine, but I don't want to hear complaining when I start to criticise your choice," he was soon cut off by his phone ringing. Glancing his way, your eyes must have deceived you as he formed the biggest smile on his face from the caller ID. "Hello, my darling!"
"Darling?" You do a double-take, "Jim? Who the hell-" he turns off the intercom and walks out the door. "Jim! Get back here!"
~~~
John sat in the living room of 221B, looking through suits he could wear to the gala. Sherlock had been watching for hours, frustrated by his friend's indecision.
"Y/n and Molly are shopping today for Y/n's dress. Tag along and let the flat have a little peace," he ruffles the paper, boredom lacing his tone. Without a second thought, John was quick to call you in a pleasing tone, not bothering to reply to Sherlock's snarky comment.
~~~
"There he is," you watch John jog up to you both. "We were just talking about you,"
"All good things, I hope," he catches his breath while you and Molly laugh a little.
"Sure," you joke. "But no, I was just asking Molly a few questions about her work,"
It was evident to John that you and Molly had hit it off perfectly ever since you first met her at Bart's. "Glad you could make it, John," she hadn't seen the blogger in quite some time, so this was bound to be filled with catching up.
~~~
The shops ranged from semi-formal to black-tie. As it would be easiest, you and Molly decided to get John's suit done and over with. Considering two more opinions were in the room, John was quicker to make a decision here, which was a blessing to Sherlock. He went with a pinstripe black suit, simple enough, but alongside this, he was able to get a new dress shirt and tie.
Now it left you. This was a bit more difficult as you entered the third store of the day, unable to find anything truly eye-catching. The only main factor you needed was movement, regardless of what you intended to do at the event, in the case of a bad scenario.
Luckily, this crossed out a good three-quarters of the options off the list. However, this also left five options to choose from, which was really testing your decision-making skills, which is why you and the other two now sat in a changing room, the changing room curtain dividing you from John and Molly.
Alongside this, conversations were kept up, "So, Y/n, what's exactly happening with you and Sherlock?"
You rip open the curtain to show them both choice number 3. "What do you mean by that?" You narrow your eyes at John, who shrugs, "We're friends,"
"Friends?" Molly widens her eyes, "you were right. She is in denial," she whispers to John.
"Denial?? I am so not in denial! Denial of what? Hm?" You ramble with your cheeks, catching a tinge of warmth.
"You know Sherlock says the same thing," John tells Molly, "it's kind of funny when he checks how he looks before meeting with Y/n,"
Your eyes widen at the sudden information. "You know how he is with his hair," you dismiss his insinuation.
"I also know he doesn't like anyone sitting in his chair but you and that he has never considered anyone's feelings before, let alone do any grand gestures to ensure they were okay," John notes, Molly holding back her laugh as you start to stammer.
"He's being nice," you close the curtain and change into a different dress.
"Sherlock and nice are never in the same sentence. It's definitely the end of the world," Molly finally lets a laugh out, hand to her chest as she tries to suppress it as best she could. "He looks at you like he looks at a good murder case,"
"Yes, because that speaks romance, Mols," you shake your head.
"You really think Sherlock would be romantic in a normal way?" John folds his arms, "I didn't even know he knew what romance was until is saw the way he acts around you,"
"You two are delusional," you retort, opening the curtains again to show a dress, which they both shake their head at. "Sherlock is a friend,"
"Boyfriend, friend, all the same in this situation," Molly teases, which you glare at as soon as you open the curtains.
"He is not my boyfriend," your words were met with unsure looks. "He's not!"
"Denial is a lovely sound, isn't it?" John glances at Molly, who is quick to nod.
"Oh, I give up with you two," you close the curtain and finally change into a sleek floor-length gown. It held a slit right up to your mid-thigh while the sleeves fell off your shoulder with the most flattering neckline you had ever worn. Like an onyx stone, the fabric seemed to hit the light perfectly, almost looking surreal.
With their teasing, you were left to make a decision which ultimately could only be this dress. A sweet discount and almost hand-tailored to you, there was no way you could let this go. It was evident the dress had the same effect on Molly and John as soon as you pulled back the curtain.
"Yes." Is all Molly musters while John's jaw drops a little.
"I think Sherlock may have a heart attack," he inputs, which only makes you turn your back and shut the curtain.
~~~
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