literature

Merry Christmas, Jane Moriarty (3)

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The halls of the hospital weren’t nearly as bad as New Scotland Yard was as far as Christmas decorations were concerned. There was the occasional snowman or Santa decoration, and one or two christmas trees. The amount of decorations dwindled the farther you went towards Molly’s lab. Jane was thankful that she wasn’t being bombarded by the paper santas and reindeer. All of that yuletide cheer that Lestrade had put in his office space was nearly unbearable.

Jane held the wrapped present for Molly in one hand and  pushed open the doors of Molly’s lab with the other. Jane was immediately met by a squealing Molly.

“Oh, Jane!” Molly said happily, wrapping her arms around Jane, “Merry Christmas!!”

“Merry Christmas, Molly,” Jane said, her hands in the air, as a way of bracing herself for one of Molly’s sudden hugs. She looked down at Molly and smiled.

Molly looked up. She jumped back and put her hands to her sides, “Sorry.”

“It’s alright, Molly,” Jane said, lowering her arms, “It’s just that they’re so...sudden.”

Molly laughed a little, then stopped, “Oh, right! Your gift!”

Jane watched as Molly ran over to her desk and pulled out a cube-ish shape from her table. She quickly walked back to Jane with an excited look on her face. Molly handed the package to Jane. Jane turned it around in her hand, observing the wrapping paper. It had different types of kittens in it, all in either santa hats or stockings. They were placed on a pink background with little flowers in a darker pigment.

“Go on,” Molly said, “Open it.”

Jane carefully unwrapped the gift. She didn’t know why, but she always seemed to unwrap gifts in a way that preserved the paper for a later use. Of course, they always just threw the paper away, but she always thought that there might have been some use for it later on.

Finally, after unwrapping the gift with a few tears from the tape, she had in her hands five  CDs.

“I burned them myself,” Molly said excitedly, “I went through your iPod and found the songs that you played the most often, and burnt them all onto CDs so you can play them here .”

Jane smiled, “Thanks, Molly.”

“It was no trouble. Well, the stealing your iPod was a bit tricky. I mean--”

Jane laughed. She handed Molly her gift. Molly took it and opened it, and she gasped. In Molly’s hand was a painting that Jane had painted herself. It was a picture of Molly holding her cat, in that cute playful way that is supposed to look like the cat is waving at the screen; the kind that most owners of cats seem to do.

“Oh, it’s beautiful. Is this the picture that’s on my desk at home?” Molly asked, holding the frame towards her face.

“Yes. I scanned it from your printer and sent myself a copy. I hope you don’t mind.”

“It’s incredible! It looks exactly like the photo! Did you paint this yourself?”

“Yes, I did,” Jane said smiling.

Molly set the painting on her table and wrapped her now free arms around Jane, embracing her, “Thank you, Jane! It’s brilliant! Thank you thank you thank you!”

“Uhh...Molly? Molly, you can let go now,” Jane said, smiling down at Molly. It was moments like this, when Molly was incredibly happy and bubbly and excited, that made Jane see Molly as a little girl; not someone who should be working in a lab with corpses all day. These moments made her think of a girl who should be frolicking through a field of sunflowers or something, not spending eight hours in a room without windows. It almost made her sad thinking about it. It was very disconcerting.

Molly let go of Jane. Jane felt the sudden urge to hug her again, to make sure nothing would ever hurt her, but she pushed that feeling aside.

Jane’s phone vibrated in her pocket. She pulled it out, only to realize that it was a message from Mycroft.

Would you mind having lunch with me this afternoon?
There are some things I would like to discuss with you.
-M. Holmes


Jane frowned slightly, and Molly took notice.


“What’s wrong?” Molly asked.

“I just got a message from Mycroft. Apparently, he wants me to have lunch with him.”

“What’s so bad about that?” Molly asked, still confused about the look on Jane’s face.

“He gave me a head’s up about it first,” Jane said. She quickly punched in her reply.

Any particular reason? You normally don’t give notice
prior to our meetings.
-jm


“So are you going to say yes?” asked Molly.

“Probably,” Jane said, “It’s not like I have anything better to do.”

Molly smiled, “It beats staying here all day.”

“Good point,” Jane said as her phone vibrated again.

It’s the holidays, Miss Moriarty.
I felt generous. Now, would you care to join me for
lunch this afternoon?
-M. Holmes

Of course.
-jm


“So will you be at Sherlock’s Christmas party?” Molly asked hopeful.

“I planned on stopping by, yes,” Jane said, smiling. Molly looked as though she was expecting Jane to ask her if she was going. She always did that; she would give you a look that hinted that she you to ask her something. It never fails for her to make that face, and Jane didn’t fail to miss it.

“Are you?” Jane asked.

“Yeah. I bought a dress a few weeks ago that I’m planning on wearing,” Molly said, excitedly. Jane smiled. Her phone vibrated in her pocket once more, and she answered.

Splendid. Your chariot awaits, Miss Moriarty.
-M. Holmes

Hmm. I wonder what would happen if I filed a restraining
order against the British Government...
-jm


“I really must get going,” Jane said as she slipped her phone back into one of her pockets, “I’ll see you tonight, Molly. Thanks for the gift.”

“Thanks for stopping by,” Molly grinned, “And thanks for the painting!”

Jane nodded as she walked towards the door. She turned and pressed her back against it. She gave Molly a little wave, and pushed the door open with her back. Jane could hear the door swinging as she walked out, and she smiled. She enjoyed seeing Molly, even if her hugs were unpredictable.

She made her way through the labyrinth of halls until she found her way outside of the hospital. There, sitting as Mycroft had promised, was a black car, with a man in a suit standing outside of it, holding the door open. She walked towards the car, nodded curtly towards the man, and got inside. The door shut softly behind her, and she heard the sound of the driver’s side door open and shut. The engine sprang to life, and then mellowed out into a quiet purr. Her phone buzzed angrily at her, and she sighed.

You refer to me as the British Government?
-M. Holmes

It’s better than calling you The Queen of England.
-jm
*cue Sherlock playing We Wish You A Merry Christmas on his violin* Merry Christmas, guis! And, as promised, I'm continuing my Christmas fanfiction! Three down, five more to go (At least, that's what I'm planning). ^_^

Part 1: DI Gregory Lestrade- [link]
Part 2: DI Dimmock- [link]
Part 3: Molly Hooper- HERE! :D

Comments are always welcome! (I do love comments. They make me happy).

Sherlock is copyright of BBC, Steven Moffat, Mark Gatiss, etc.
Jane Moriarty is copyright of me.
© 2012 - 2024 NinjaUnicorn13
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hayface's avatar
"It's better than calling you The Queen of England." Hahahahaha Brilliant!