How to Play a Game Called Murder

Chapter 27: Written in Red

Sherlock gently shook Molly awake.

“Hey, come on. Wake up Molly.”

She groaned and stretched, giving Sherlock a small smile.

“Hello handsome.”

The tips of his ears colored and he coughed self-consciously.

“Hi.”

She laughed and rolled over, getting out of bed.

He cleared his throat, shifting on the bed to face her as she pulled on her dressing gown.

“Um, I texted Stamford and told him you wouldn’t be in today.”

She stopped dead and looked at him.

“Oh.”

“Yes, I thought you might need some time to yourself today. After we go.”

She nodded. “Yes, I probably will. Thank you Sherlock.”

Sherlock couldn’t help but think her mind was far away as she exited the room. He soon heard the coffee maker come to life and decided he might as well get dressed.

It was going to be a long day and not just for Molly.

--------------------------------------

Sherlock opened the door to the black car that was parked on the curb outside of the flat. Molly climbed in, narrowly missing bumping her head and he smiled.

“I thought it would be prudent to obtain a car for this endeavor. Not too sure I’d like to take a cab after this.”

Molly nodded gratefully and looked out the window, effectively ignoring Sherlock.

The distance between them had been almost tangible all morning. Molly’s actions were mechanical. She dressed, washed her face and brushed her teeth, drank her coffee, and tidied up the bedroom with a distant look in her eyes. She was unfocused and detached, not even touching Sherlock the entire morning. The lack of contact shouldn’t bother him as much as it did.

Sherlock watched Molly out of the corner of his eye. Her hands were twisted together in her lap and she chewed her lower lip, at one point ripping it and causing it to bleed a bit. She never took her gaze from the passing streets and never said a word to Sherlock. It was driving him crazy but he had no idea how to proceed. He hated to admit it, but he was well out of his area of expertise. He had no clue whether he should leave her to brood or attempt to comfort her. He scanned her body for clues, deciding it was best to leave her alone as her body language was practically screaming for him to stay away.

They finally arrived at their destination, finding, to their surprise, the street was blocked off and completely empty.

Thank you Mycroft.

His brother had been concerned when Sherlock had told him the reason for needing a car to pick them up, though to the normal person, his demeanor gave nothing away. He hadn’t mentioned closing off the street to Sherlock though. The detective was grateful. Not only would it make their job easier, but Molly would have privacy.

He climbed out of the car, circling to open the door for Molly, who beat him to it and was already halfway out before he could get there. He put his hand at the small of back to guide her but she shrugged him off. She began to walk to the center of the street and he followed silently.

Why is she pushing me away?

Molly strode down the street with determined steps but stopped abruptly, causing Sherlock to crash into her back. She took another step at the force of him knocking into her and shrieked. Sherlock looked over her shoulder to the ground and saw a large cipher written in red.