White Blank Page

Mycroft and Molly have managed a 'friendship' of sorts over the years, more so while Sherlock was away, but when he returned everything is forced to change.

A little fluffy Mollcroft.

Mycroft might appear a little OOC but I think years of friendship with Molly would do that to a guy, at least to his internal monologue.

A/N The plot bunny (Bluebell specifically) bit me the early hours of this morning while I was enjoying the last few moments of a full moon so enjoy whatever this is!

Maybe this Time is still being worked on - I haven't abandoned it ^,^ I've started university again so I'm a little busier than I'd like.

Inspired by Mumford & Sons - White Blank Page

Raised voices were heard from the flat of 221b Baker Street that stopped suddenly as John climbed the stairs. He found the door wide open and the Holmes brothers glaring at each other in the centre of the room. Mycroft's chest puffed out and Sherlock's shoulders squared, neither said anything for a moment.

"Yes, I would love a cup of tea John," Sherlock said without taking his eyes off of his brother. "Mycroft?"

"No, thank you." John could have sworn the statement was more of a snarl through gritted teeth even though he didn't look to check.

"Oh, right. Great. Yeah. I'll just.." John looked on concerned once more and then moved to the kitchen. He listened intently trying to catch any words that could give a clue to what had caused the latest spurt of brotherly 'love' but their voices were barely a hissed whisper. He gathered the cups and head back to Sherlock who now stood in the centre of the room alone, eyes creased and staring after Mycroft's retreating form. "What was that all about?"

Sherlock said nothing as he took the cup and sipped the contents, he then downed the lot and slammed the cup down. "I'm going to see Molly." He strode to grab his coat.

"Need me to come with-"

"No." Sherlock wrapped his scarf around his neck, "I'll be back shortly. Do blog things, or something." He waved his hand towards the tables by the window and then swooped out of the door.

John frowned and looked where he had pointed, "Great, yeah. Blog things…"

Can you lie next to her

And give her your heart, your heart

As well as your body

And can you lie next to her

And confess your love, your love

As well as your folly

And can you kneel before the king

And say I'm clean, I'm clean

Mycroft slammed the door of his car and huffed as he pinched the bridge of his nose. Sherlock could be such a little-

"Your brother was agreeable as always, sir?" Athena interjected as she glanced up catch the deflated sag of his shoulders. He didn't move from his position, but she didn't miss the held breath. 'He'd forgotten I would be in the car? Sherlock, what have you done this time?' She held out two pills and a cigarette without looking up from her phone.

Mycroft gave a small nod of thanks and took the pills quickly, then twirled the cigarette in his fingers. He needed to get to Miss Hooper before Sherlock and sort this whole mess out. He repeated the last part of the conversation, argument, over in his head.

"Miss Hooper was here last night." Mycroft asked casually from John's chair, tapping his brolly absentmindedly. "I didn't think you much cared for her, and now...?"

Sherlock didn't move for a moment, steepled fingers in front of his mouth and elbows spread wide to meet the armrests of his chair. His eyes creased and then, "Yes, she was. Stop spying on my flat, brother dear."

A dark smirk hit Mycroft's lips, "As much as this place is under observation at all times, and always will be," Sherlock's eyes twitched, "that isn't how I came to know about her presence here last night." Well, It wasn't the flat he was watching.

"What does it matter if she were here?" Sherlock changed lanes, "She frequents here often, so why is last night… She turned you down for plans because she was already busy. Oh dear. Brother mine are you jealous? Jealous I made favourite?" The look on glee on Sherlock's features was nauseating.

"Sherlock." Mycroft warned. "We both know Miss Hooper, she is consistent and loyal, if she had plans first she will never drop them in place of something better-"

"She would for me." Sherlock looked smug.

"Brother, it wasn't a play of favourites as you call it." Mycroft informed him, casually as he could. "I am merely looking out for her and to do that I must understand your intentions."

Sherlock leaned forward in his chair and looked closely at his brother, "The only reason you're so keen to know my intentions is because you think they may be crossing with yours. Your association with Molly has you stumbling around in unknown territory, doesn't it, brother mine? Never went in for friends and now, here you are. How the mighty has fallen. 'Caring is not an advantage Sherlock'-"

"Caring isn't an advantage… but-"

Sherlock looked incredulous, "The Ice Man has fallen to the whims of his feelings?! Molly Hooper. Surely she's not your type? And how could she ever fall for you?!" The last line was more to himself.

Mycroft stood, feeling all too exposed, he just needed to know, he needed to know before he... "Sherlock, just answer the question and then I will be on my way!"

Sherlock rose to meet him, and watched him some more. The dot to dot in his mind forming pictures and answers in nanoseconds. "Ah, something is developing and you're just clearing the runway. Making sure you don't look a fool." He'd never seen his brother quite so… ruffled.

The door opening and the creaking stairs stopped them, both eyes flickered for a second then relaxed a little. 'John.' 'Dr Watson.'

"Yes, I would love a cup of tea John," Sherlock said without taking his eyes off of his brother. "Mycroft?"

"No, thank you." He ground out.

"Oh, right. Great. Yeah. I'll just.." John stood in just the next room so both brothers lowered their voices.

Sherlock narrowed his eyes, "You don't deserve her."

"I dare say, neither of us do."

"She will always chose me, brother." Their eyes locked. "Always."

Mycroft felt a bubble of jealousy rise, he couldn't deny Molly's affections for Sherlock. She would do anything for him, but what was it she had said before? 'That's what friends are for.' Friends. If that is just how she handled friends then there was hope… "We will see about that." Mycroft stalked out of the flat and down the stairs.

"Has the car collected Miss Hooper yet?" Mycroft asked as they head to the meeting point. Athena gave a small nod and Mycroft relaxed. Excellent. He definitely got to her before Sherlock. "Jam all signals to Miss Hooper's mobile until the meeting is over." Perfect.

Athena's face was a smirk as always but she couldn't help think that the Holmes boys certain handle romance in a peculiar way.

The development of their friendship had taken years.

Years of quick meetings to discuss his brother, which gradually seeped out into other topics. Years of polite tea conversation which slowly seeped into other locations and activities. Most recently she had accompanied him to the theatre, and then she played date for him at one of the many pompous events he was forced to attend. It was there he decided he needed to move things along with her. Her company was pleasant, her humour was refreshing and she was, well, beautiful.

She had mentioned that she had a date the coming weekend and wouldn't be available for their usual but unofficial day trip. Mycroft had felt his stomach lurch. He tried to remain nonchalant and told her it was of no matter and he would see her Tuesday for tea on her afternoon break if she was still available. She took to reassuring him that she would always make time for him and this was just a 'one off, probably-wouldn't-go-anywhere date' but he couldn't miss the hope in her voice. And it staggered him.

But tell me now, where was my fault

In loving you with my whole heart

Oh, tell me now, where was my fault

In loving you with my whole heart

Ice Man felt utter sick at the idea that she would be entertaining another for an evening.

But why shouldn't she?

Her and Mycroft were just friends as far as she was concerned, they'd never spoke of a relationship so how was she to know that he considered her 'his' and under no circumstances wanted to share her?

That was the moment he decided her had to inform her and sort that little problem out.

He'd had her under surveillance for years, he just took a more active interest in the last few months, so when it came to Saturday night he watched her leave her flat to meet her date. She hailed a cab and it took off towards the centre of town.

He followed each street camera through each frame. It looked to be heading to an address in Camden.

Mycroft wrinkled his nose; he'd have a team waiting nearby just in case.

As she climbed out the cab by Camden Market she went into her purse and gathered her money but just before she handed it over her phone rang. The cab still waiting, she took the call and looked around the area. The image was too grainy to see clearly so all her saw was her shoulders sag and climbed back into the cab. The cab took off across London once more and Mycroft saw her make her way towards Baker Street.

Mycroft watched the camera for hours. It was 8pm when she'd head upstairs to the infamous flat, and it was almost 3am when the beautifully dressed Molly Hooper left. He'd had a cab stationed outside the flat since 10pm to collect her and make sure she had gotten home safe. The driver had had an easy night and got paid for every minute he sat in there on his phone and for every customer he turned away.

Once her cab had dropped her home he relaxed and switched off his computer and went to bed. He planned to talk to Sherlock in the morning and sort out exactly what was going on and then… Well, he'd have to talk to Molly.

A white blank page and a swelling rage, rage

You did not think when you sent me to the brink, to the brink

You desired my attention but denied my affections, my affections

So tell me now, where was my fault

In loving you with my whole heart

Oh tell me now, where was my fault

In loving you with my whole heart

He climbed out of his long black car and ascended the stairs. He'd cleared out the gardens of a local museum and had afternoon tea set up for them both. Perfect for a sunny Sunday morning. He head into the gardens and removed his coat and blazer. He then rolled his sleeves up to the elbow, she had commented once she loved how human it made him look and if he wanted anything today it was for her to see he was just that.

Just as Mycroft sat down he heard the doors of the garden open and in walked Molly. She was wearing a pale yellow summer dress and her hair was pulled up in her usual style.

"Mycroft." Her smile grew and he felt his insides clench. He really didn't deserve her. "Is everything alright?" She came to the table and pulled her chair a little closer to his and sat down. "I don't think we've done a Sunday morning before."

They had, three times in fact, but Mycroft had long since realised not everyone's memory was as thorough as his own. Normally he'd feel a slight twinge of irritation at this but it was just another example of how Molly affected him. "Yes, well." He gestured around slightly, "I thought you might like some brunch and I found myself with a little free time." Molly laughed a little and raised both her eyebrows. "Please help yourself." He gestured once more to the tea set and things laid out on the table.

"Mycroft, you rarely have 'free time'," She reached for a scone, "So thank you for making time for me, I'm sorry about yesterday." His phone began to vibrate, "And there goes your free time." She said with good humour.

"Not at all," He answered the call and spoke in some language Molly didn't know and then cut it off. He tapped for a few moments and within seconds Athena had come to collect it from him. "There. Now, unless nuclear warfare is declared I have 'free time'."

Molly looked bemused, "You know I don't mind you working over lunch dates and things? It's never been a problem-"

"Yes my dear, you've been very understanding-" He began to pour them both tea.

"-Also, my phone seems to have lost signal since Athena's text this morning, you wouldn't happen to know anything about that, would you?" If she had sounded angry he may have denied it outright but he glanced at her and she looked rather entertained by the idea. "You don't seem too wound up so it's nothing serious, so my guess is it's going to be Sherlock related."

Mycroft collect his tea cup and raised an eyebrow, smirking as he did so. "Now who's playing deduction?"

She chewed her scone and smiled. "Mycroft, I love our time together dearly, but what's wrong?" She smiled but looked curious, "Why am I really here and why don't you want me to talk to Sherlock first?" Mycroft watched her as she pushed crumbs off of her lap and sipped her tea. Sighing, she continued, "What did you argue about this time and what will Sherlock make sound like an insult out of context?" It wouldn't be the first time.

Mycroft surprised himself when he laughed out loud. Molly Hooper would never cease to amaze him, he was sure. She knew the brothers very well, as well as anyone could, and still had the good patience to endure them. He felt his heart swell as he watched her for a moment. How could someone like her exist? Unassuming and pure. He wouldn't deny that at first he'd doubted her intentions and had even gone as far as to try to bribe her to be around for Sherlock like he had John. But, again like John, she had been indignant and told him in no uncertain terms that she didn't need bribing to care for her friends and pities anyone who thinks like that. Still not convinced, he ran another more thorough background check and continued to monitored her.

He never stopped that last part but the reason changed over time.

And now, he couldn't believe his 'luck', Molly had extended that incandescent care to him.

He has her followed at all times, he's blocked her phone and she thinks he's been bad mouthing her in temper to his little brother and she isn't angry or hurt; in fact she's amused at the whole thing.

She couldn't be more perfect.

He watched her for a moment, a small smile on his lips, his eyes taking her in. Molly leaned back in her chair sipping her tea and smiled back at him, but hers was more of a beam.

"Mycroft?" She prompted when he hadn't answered her after a few moments. "Are you sure you're alright?" She reached across the table and took hold of his hand.

He cleared his throat and grasped her hand more firmly, "I wanted to enquire to how your date went last night-"

"-You've spoken to Sherlock, you know I didn't make it-" Her cheeks grew red and she suddenly began to look uncomfortable. "What has he said?"

"Nothing, he was very tight lipped about the whole evening. Unusually so." Mycroft noticed the shift and felt his gut churn. The change in the area around them was deadening. "Although, if he knows I want something he does take joy in teasing." Mycroft sneered a little, pulling his hands away and reaching for his cup, "I presume you were working on a case?" he added, loftily.

Molly swallowed, "… He really didn't tell you anything?"

"Short of, I don't deserve you, no nothing." Mycroft offered offhandedly, to an outsider it may have looked like he took nothing from the statement but to Molly, she could see the weight behind the floating tone. A series of emotions passed over Molly's face, relief and then concern being the two most prominent. He watched Molly mull this over and watched her internal little struggle over some detail. 'What had she done with Sherlock last night and, lord above, why was she so concerned about me knowing?' He tried to deduce but his brain was fighting a war with his pounding heart He had a few ideas but each one brought him to an awful bitter taste in his mouth and a nausea he didn't think he could stomach. "Molly, just say it." He sniped. 'Then I can bid you good day, wish you a good life with my brother and go and down a bottle of whiskey."

She laughed a little bitterly, "You sounded just like Sherlock then, he has no patience for my pithering either." He could see her loading her cannon mentally and watched her resolve as she pulled the trigger. "Sherlock rang just as I was getting to Camden and said he needed me urgently at Baker Street. A case had come up and he needed my help because he couldn't get hold of John. So I hopped straight back in the cab and went round… There was no case, he just wanted me at Baker Street…" Mycroft didn't breath for a moment, he wasn't sure he wanted to hear the rest but instead of taking an early leave he just continued to wait while she fiddled with her skirt. "We talked… A lot. And then I went home."

"You're uncomfortable with the idea of him telling me about last night because you talked?" Mycroft spoke slowly.

She scoffed, "Yes, I suppose so… I know you're not convinced."

"It's none of my business what you and my brother do in the dead of night for seven hours in his flat. Should I expect a happy announcement by the end of the week?" He tried to sound uninterested but, for the first time in years, he doubted he'd managed it.

"What? No!" Molly's eyes grew wide, "Not at this bloody rate anyway…" She muttered to herself.

"Turned you down? What a strange turn of events." Mycroft said sourly, he began to stand and collect his blazer.

"What? No, Mycroft, I didn't mean him, not him." She glanced around to see how many were nearby watching the heated exchange. Mycroft was good at his job though and there was only three agents within 20 yards of them and the rest were out of sight. "Please, sit back down." She sighed when he paused, "Please? I'll explain better." He sat stiffly, "Sherlock got me back to the flat to talk. He'd been deducing something and it had come as a surprise to him and needed clarity on it." Choosing her words carefully, she continued, "When he heard I had a date last night he thought that would be the best time to interrupt." Mycroft scoffed, "I know, I know, Sherlock logic. But when I've finished explaining, you'll see why." She took a breath, "He come to the conclusion that I had feelings for someone else and he wanted to warn me off, i think? Sort of?" She shrugged her shoulders, "Anyway, he tried to make me 'see sense' and 'appeal to my logical nature'." She smiled and rolled her eyes, "But, when he realised he couldn't, he recommended I sort it sooner rather than later because the person who I have... feelings for is prone to push people away and it wouldn't be good for him to get to that point… not with this…" She laughed a little and smiled, "With the usual Sherlock tact, "I'd be a blubbering mess and he couldn't work with me like that'...Okay?" Mycroft froze, processing the information. Molly fidgeted with the skirt of her summer dress, she was hoping he would figure it out but the look on his face suggested otherwise. 'oh bugger it!' "Mycroft, I was referring to you. Last night, was about you."

His eyes flicked to her but he said nothing for a moment. The long paused dragged out as his eyebrows and eyes made micro movements. Slowly, he rose to his feet and offered his hand to Molly. She took it and stood, "I'm sorry if this ruins things, I just didn't know what to do. I know, stupid choice pouring my heart to Sherlock but he was a surprising good listener; even if he was just thinking about what a mess I'd be if I wreck this whole thing-"

Mycroft silenced Molly with one swift movement. He placed a hand at the back of her neck and the other around her waist, pulling her in then lowering his lips to hers. Without thinking she sank into his embrace, her hands resting against his chest. If either had been paying attention they would have noticed the rhythm of their hearts were in sink in more ways than one.

Lead me to the truth and I will follow you with my whole life

Oh, lead me to the truth and I will follow you with my whole life