Deerstalker - a Sherlolly story

Mystery Shopping

One thing that Molly learned in the week that followed her visit to Sherlock was that nothing travels quite as fast through a small town as good gossip. So within three days not only everybody at school, but the whole town knew about her relationship with Sherlock. She had officially gone from ‘the new girl’ to ‘Sherlock Holmes’ girlfriend’, a title that was often whispered in a disapproving tone.

Surprisingly, Molly didn’t care. To be frank, she didn’t care about much else except the butterflies in her stomach these days. Things were just too great to waste time on worrying. Ever since Molly had stopped by Sherlock’s house and he had given her the permission to let her call him her boyfriend (although reluctantly), he had really started to live up to this new title. Even when Molly had basically given him the most important clue in the very strange mystery of this small town, he decided to spend his time at school instead of staring at his bedroom wall. (Still, she also knew this meant he was up to something). She no longer had to eat her lunch alone, even though her friends were still ignoring her, and all of the sudden someone else was carrying her books.  It wasn’t like in her fantasies – there were plenty of awkward situations, overly harsh remarks and klutzy attempts at displaying affection – but she still found herself smiling broadly whenever she saw his dark curls.  It also helped that she had quickly learned that Sherlock’s words would never contain much tenderness, but his silent actions screamed of devotion and fondness.

“Well, this one time there was this little bird with a broken leg and my mum didn’t want me to keep it to take care for. So I decided to keep it in this big box in my room and was really secretive about it,” Molly recounted a story about her 10-year old mischievousness to Sherlock. They were having lunch outside, since the beginning of March had brought a sudden redundancy of sunshine.

“And you seriously thought your parents wouldn’t notice? A little immature, don’t you think?” Sherlock asked her, one eyebrow raised. The both were sitting on the bench of one of the picnic tables, leaning their backs on the edge of the table. Although Sherlock sounded somewhat crude, he tenderly played with her fingers.

“I was ten!” Molly  exclaimed in mock anger. Sherlock didn’t reply, he suddenly seemed distracted by something near the cafeteria door.  Molly turned to see what it was that had captured his attention. Stepping out into the schoolyard, moving towards them, were Sally and her friends. This was not her usual pack though. Meena wasn’t with them and two senior boys had joined her. David and  Billy.

While Molly still had her eyes trained on them as they moved closer, Sherlock suddenly grabbed her arm and told her in an urgent voice; “Kiss me.”

“Wh-What?” She immediately turned around. “Sh-Sherl..”

Before she could protest any more, his hand was on the back of her neck and he brought her lips op to his. When they met it was all heartbeats, hot hands and tiny fingers intertwined with dark curls. They were their own universe, yet they could feel everyone looking in. They were the couple  you see on movie screens. This made Molly’s cheeks even hotter, but only motivated Sherlock to show off even more. And showing off he did, the only evidence needed was Sally’s dropped jaw and the wide of David’s eyes.

********

Squeek-squeek-squeek the floorboards went, as Sherlock paced them up and down once more. He needed to come up with a solid plan, but he also needed to act quickly. Too much time had already been wasted. He kept telling himself that he hadn’t acted right away because he needed to plan strategically  if he wanted to actually catch Rob Wilson, but there was no denying that there had also been another distraction.

While he tried to come up with how exactly he was going to get a testimonial from Rob, he marveled once more at Molly’s quick deduction. Now that he knew, it was the most obvious thing in the world. The pesticides that killed the dogs were the ones they sold at the supermarket and Sherlock knew Rob lived in the neighborhood. The sleeping pills that were tampered with, were sold at the drug counter in the supermarket. A counter Rob often stood behind. Also, he off course knew where the kids got their booze – since he kept his employees very strict on ID-ing. Phil’s bike was an obvious one. The shed was just down the road of the store, from Phil’s parents he knew their son hadn’t come home until late and then it was just a matter of cutting the brakes while making a friendly visit to Phil’s father. Bonfire night was simply a dead give-away. He had overheard David’s not-so-quiet friends and on the afternoon before the fire – while David was preparing – he had snuck up on him and had locked him up in the shed. He had even tied him up with the same kind of robe the boys used for their fire. The kind they sold at the local supermarket. ‘How could I have missed all of this?’ Sherlock wondered, still annoyed over his own blindness.