The Beast and His Beauty

A/N: I own absolutely nothing except my obsession with the show and the characters.

Under normal circumstances, Molly would be entirely enchanted by the rose gardens she was walking through. The impossible place should have captured her attention. A thriving garden in the middle of a wild forest with a foreboding castle rising in the background was precisely what she would have loved to explore and study.

However, these were certainly not normal circumstances. Molly paced rapidly around, feeling more and more constricted despite being outdoors. She felt like the gates around the castle were slowly getting closer to her, trapping her even more thoroughly. How did she come to this? She had so many plans for her life, and now…now she was a prisoner, a prisoner of a terrible man, a monster.

The Previous Day:

Molly and her father had always been close. After the death of her mother, their relationship only strengthened. She would do anything for the man, and she officially proved that fact true the day before. The two of them were traveling through the forest on their way to sell some of Molly's baked goods in town. Although they had made the journey from their isolated cottage numerous times before, this time, somehow, they managed to take a wrong turn and become hopelessly lost. Just as the sun set and the forest became dark, her father spotted a castle ahead of them. With a sigh of relief, they stepped through the creaky gates and slowly entered the old castle. It was dark inside, but it was warm, and they felt safe. Oh, how they were wrong.

The wandered into a room off of the main entrance and found a small study. Her father started a fire in the large fireplace and with the additional light, Molly looked around curiously. The room was masculine in design and décor, with minimal furnishings. Molly wandered towards the full bookshelf behind the desk and perused the titles. She was surprised to realize that she had read many of them herself! A majority of the tomes related to the fields of science and medicine. Despite her gender, Molly's father often brought home such books to satisfy her interests in the topics and to expand her mind. That was one of the reasons she loved him so: his encouragement of her rather inappropriate (for a woman) education.

As she gently pulled an interesting title off the shelf, movement in the periphery of her vision caught her attention. She turned in surprise to see a large figure filling the doorway. An inhuman growl rolled through the room over her as the silhouette moved slightly into the room.

"Who are you," it growled, "and why are you here?"

Molly's father recovered from the fright and answered, "We are so sorry to bother you, sir, but we were lost in the forest and saw your castle as the sun set. If you will just allow us to stay here for the night, we will be out of your way in the morning. We have no money, but we can pay you in baked goods…my daughter made them, and they are quite delicious!"

The shadow, who had yet to step fully into the light, growled again. "Leave now," he roared.

The two intruders stumbled out of the study in fear and rushed towards the front doors of the castle. Molly, in her haste, had failed to place the book properly back on the shelf. Right as they flung the door open, they heard a terrible shout behind them, telling them to stop.

"You have touched my belongings, moved my things. I cannot allow this to go unpunished. One of you must stay with me. Decide now."

Molly had never liked bullies. She gathered her courage and stood up as high as her short stature would allow, and shouted, "Who are you to keep us here? We apologized for our intrusion, we left when you asked. You can do no more to us. My father and I shall both leave; there is no need to be unreasonable!"

The stranger stepped forward, into a dim pool of light cast by a torch on the wall. Both Molly and her father gasped in shock as a tall man appeared, scars crisscrossing his face with wildly overgrown sideburns, turning his face into one more of an animal than a man. His large stature combined with his unkempt hair and the scars altogether served to create a rather grotesque, nearly monstrous image.

"You will obey, or suffer the wrath of the beast of this castle. Your insolence shall not be forgiven so easily. One shall stay."

Molly's father looked at her, pleading quietly with his head-strong, yet quiet daughter. "Margaret, please, go. I will stay. I cannot allow you to suffer for my mistake. It's my fault we got lost. Please. Save yourself. I've lived my life, and I'll stay with this…beast…you go, live."

Through a couple of quiet sobs, Molly refused her father's request. "No, Father. You know that I will do anything for you. It's my chance to prove it. I'll be fine. I'm the one who moved the book, who touched his things. I can take care of myself. There's nothing there for me anyways. At four and twenty, my future has pretty much been sealed. Perhaps I can do something here. I love you, Father, but I cannot allow you to do this. Go."

Before he could react, she set her shoulders and turned to the figure standing in the entrance hall. "I shall stay with you, if you let my father go." She stepped just out of reach of her father's grasping arms. "Go, Father. I love you, but you must go. I have made my decision."

"Very well," the strange man uttered, nearly gliding towards them. He shoved Molly's father through the door and locked it, before turning to glower down at the girl. "You are mine, then? What's your name, girl?"

"M..M..Margaret Hooper. Molly," she stammered, trying to hold back her tears. No need to show weakness to this creature, if she could avoid it.

"Well, Molly. Welcome to my humble abode." His smirk, which may have at one time been dashing, even handsome, was turned into something evil by the scars pulling at his lips. "Follow me."

Without looking to see if she was following, he stalked up a flight of stairs, before entering a small bedroom. A bed, a wardrobe, a desk and chair filled the space. Unlike the rest of the castle that Molly had seen, this room actually seemed feminine and inviting, rather than masculine and intimidating, with soft lavenders and warm yellows decorating the bed and curtaining the window.

"Sleep well. We'll talk about your future in the morning." With that, the stranger turned to leave.

"Wait, sir, please…if I'm going to be staying with you, may I at least know your name?"

He turned around again, pausing in the doorway to look at her, a strange expression on his face. As he pulled the door shut, he growled out, "The name's Sherlock Holmes."

A/N: I am playing with the idea of expanding this into a longer story, but for now, it's complete as a one-shot. I thought it was a good place to leave it. I'll just have to see where the ideas take me! Thanks for reading! Don't hesitate to review!