Can't Buy Me Love
Feb. 14th, 2018 12:11 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
darnedchildSummary: “What will be the opening bid for an intimate meal, cooked in your own home by Sherlock Holmes himself, followed by an evening at the theatre.”
Rating: G
A/N - MHAW Day Four – Day 4 - Valentine’s Day/Galentine’s Day/Single’s Awareness Day (Fanworks focusing on one of the holidays celebrated in February)
I know parts of this are utterly ridiculous and not terribly believable, but they amused me and it’s a one shot so . . .
Can't Buy Me Love
There were worse ways to spend Valentine’s Day, Molly supposed.
Originally, she’d planned to curl up on the sofa with a bottle of wine, a tub of ice cream, and the new DVD she’d picked up on a whim and hadn’t yet had a chance to watch.
But then John dropped by the week before to ask if she’d like to be his plus one at a semi-formal benefit dinner for the Children’s Hospital. If it had been any other man she might have thought he was asking her out on a date; but it was John Watson and Molly had known him far too long and far too well to think either one of them might harbour an interest in dating the other.
A chance to dress up, eat a delicious meal she didn’t have to pay for, and watch the evening’s entertainment—a Bachelor/Bachelorette Auction—without a single worry about impressing her date? Of course she’d agreed. That John was going to be one of the bachelors up for auction was just the icing on the cake.
Mrs Hudson had made her promise to take videos.
However, it was beginning to look like Molly wasn’t going to get a chance to do so.
John had called to say he was held up at work, but he’d meet her at the benefit. Thankfully, the other people seated at their table were friendly and made Molly feel welcome, since John still hadn’t shown up by the time the meal started.
She briefly considered leaving once it became obvious that he must have been pulled into an emergency and wasn’t going to make it; but her dinner was already on the table and she had spent a lot of time on her hair and make-up. Not to mention the program that had been sitting next to her plate promised a wealth of attractive and interesting men and woman up for auction. Who knew, perhaps she’d find someone she wanted to bid on?
The MC stepped on to the small platform that had been positioned at the front of the room and announced that the auction would begin in fifteen minutes for anyone who might want to visit the open bar one more time.
Molly finished savouring her last bite of chocolate cheesecake just in time to avoid choking as someone dropped into the empty chair next to her in a flurry of motion and startled her. “Sherlock?”
“No time to explain. Take this.” He shoved something into her hand. “Use it.”
She looked down at the black credit card. “Is this your brother’s?”
“Yes. Don’t worry about it, he knows I have it. Or he will soon enough.” He stood up and rebuttoned his suitcoat. “Remember it has no limit. Do whatever it takes.”
Before she could stutter out more than “Wh-What?” he had hurried toward the front of the room and disappeared around the curtain set up behind the platform.
Seven and a half minutes later, her mobile rang. The number was private, but it didn’t take a genius to put the unknown number and the credit card in her hand together. She answered with a quiet, “Hello, Mr Holmes.”
There was silence on the other end for several seconds. “Miss Hooper. My brother has informed me that you have something of mine in your possession.”
“Yes. Yes, I do.” Assuming she didn’t get jumped by several men in dark suits the minute she stood up from her chair, she was going to murder Sherlock. Or at least banish him from the lab for several days.
She could almost hear Mycroft rolling his eyes. “I will authorize a one-time charge with the benefit organizer, on behalf of my brother. In exchange I shall have symphony tickets delivered to Baker Street tomorrow, and Sherlock will have the honour of escorting our parents next month in my stead. And I want my card back.”
John had spoken about being stuck in the middle of the brothers’ odd negotiations, but she’d never been drawn into them before. “I’ll let him know.”
“Please do. Enjoy the remainder of your evening, Miss Hooper.”
Molly held on to the card as if her life depended on it while she waited for . . . whatever it was she was waiting for.
Forty minutes into the auction, she understood everything.
The MC gestured for the current bachelorette to duck back behind the curtain, then returned his attention to the audience. “The next bachelor up on the program is Doctor John Watson. Unfortunately, Doctor Watson is unable to join us this evening. We are extremely fortunate that another gentleman has volunteered to take his place. Please welcome Sherlock Holmes.”
Sherlock trudged up the pair of steps to the platform as if he were going to the gallows. He had the tight, uncomfortable smile Molly recognized from so many press conferences. She wondered what could have possibly convinced him to agree to this.
“Sherlock, what tantalizing plans do you have in store for our next lucky bidder?” the MC asked.
Sherlock dismissively waved his hand. “Whatever John signed up for.”
“Excellent.” The MC addressed the audience again. “What will be the opening bid for an intimate meal, cooked in your own home by Sherlock Holmes himself, followed by an evening at the theatre.”
The sheer look of horror on Sherlock’s face made Molly laugh and completely miss the first bid. The next came seconds later. And then another.
His eyes met hers across the room, silently begging her to do something.
“Oh, right.” She raised her hand and added a hundred to the most recent offer. Sherlock’s shoulders slumped in relief until another woman upped the bid again.
Soon it came down to Molly and the other woman. If it had been her own money, Molly would have dropped out long before; but it was Mycroft’s card, Sherlock had specifically reminded her there was no limit . . . and it was for a good cause, after all.
With a devilish grin, she raised her hand once more. “Five thousand.”
Several people gasped, the other woman shook her head and settled back in her seat in disappointment, and the auction ended without another offer.
The MC was utterly delighted. “Thank you, madam! Money well spent, I’m sure. If you’ll make your way to the back to speak to our lovely coordinator to discuss your winning bid.” As Sherlock hurried off the platform the MC launched into the introduction of the next bachelorette.
Sherlock met her just as she finished arranging payment with a slightly befuddled benefit organizer.
“Five thousand pounds, Molly? You value my company that much?” He said it in a teasingly sarcastic manner, but Molly thought she saw a hint of something (Insecurity? Hope?) hidden in his flippant expression.
She shrugged and smiled, and held the credit card behind her back when he reached for it. “Oh no. Not until we’ve worked out the details of my intimate meal and visit to the theatre.”
The colour drained from his face. “You’re not seriously going to hold me to that, are you?”
“Absolutely.” Molly’s smile morphed into a grin. “Do you have any idea how long it’s been since someone cooked dinner for me?” She studied him as they retrieved Molly’s jacket and his Belstaff from the coat check.
She took a tiny bit of pity on him. “All right, I may be willing go compromise on the play.” His relief immediately melted away when she continued. “It sounds as if you’ll have enough of that sort of thing when you take your parents to the symphony next month. Mycroft’s terms, I’m afraid.”
“John is going to owe me, I don’t care if he threatened to-“ He saw Molly’s eyes widen and quickly cut himself off. “What do you want instead?”
“Picnic in the park?” She didn’t even try to hide her amusement, knowing full well he’d refuse. “A trip to the London Eye where you have to play nice around all the tourists? No? You make dinner at mine and the DVD I was planning to watch tonight. Final offer.”
He considered it as he flagged down a cab. “Rom-com?”
“Horror. No psycho killer, no mystery, straight up man-eating monster movie.”
Sherlock opened the cab door and gestured for her to get in. “Deal.”
Rating: G
A/N - MHAW Day Four – Day 4 - Valentine’s Day/Galentine’s Day/Single’s Awareness Day (Fanworks focusing on one of the holidays celebrated in February)
I know parts of this are utterly ridiculous and not terribly believable, but they amused me and it’s a one shot so . . .
Can't Buy Me Love
There were worse ways to spend Valentine’s Day, Molly supposed.
Originally, she’d planned to curl up on the sofa with a bottle of wine, a tub of ice cream, and the new DVD she’d picked up on a whim and hadn’t yet had a chance to watch.
But then John dropped by the week before to ask if she’d like to be his plus one at a semi-formal benefit dinner for the Children’s Hospital. If it had been any other man she might have thought he was asking her out on a date; but it was John Watson and Molly had known him far too long and far too well to think either one of them might harbour an interest in dating the other.
A chance to dress up, eat a delicious meal she didn’t have to pay for, and watch the evening’s entertainment—a Bachelor/Bachelorette Auction—without a single worry about impressing her date? Of course she’d agreed. That John was going to be one of the bachelors up for auction was just the icing on the cake.
Mrs Hudson had made her promise to take videos.
However, it was beginning to look like Molly wasn’t going to get a chance to do so.
John had called to say he was held up at work, but he’d meet her at the benefit. Thankfully, the other people seated at their table were friendly and made Molly feel welcome, since John still hadn’t shown up by the time the meal started.
She briefly considered leaving once it became obvious that he must have been pulled into an emergency and wasn’t going to make it; but her dinner was already on the table and she had spent a lot of time on her hair and make-up. Not to mention the program that had been sitting next to her plate promised a wealth of attractive and interesting men and woman up for auction. Who knew, perhaps she’d find someone she wanted to bid on?
The MC stepped on to the small platform that had been positioned at the front of the room and announced that the auction would begin in fifteen minutes for anyone who might want to visit the open bar one more time.
Molly finished savouring her last bite of chocolate cheesecake just in time to avoid choking as someone dropped into the empty chair next to her in a flurry of motion and startled her. “Sherlock?”
“No time to explain. Take this.” He shoved something into her hand. “Use it.”
She looked down at the black credit card. “Is this your brother’s?”
“Yes. Don’t worry about it, he knows I have it. Or he will soon enough.” He stood up and rebuttoned his suitcoat. “Remember it has no limit. Do whatever it takes.”
Before she could stutter out more than “Wh-What?” he had hurried toward the front of the room and disappeared around the curtain set up behind the platform.
Seven and a half minutes later, her mobile rang. The number was private, but it didn’t take a genius to put the unknown number and the credit card in her hand together. She answered with a quiet, “Hello, Mr Holmes.”
There was silence on the other end for several seconds. “Miss Hooper. My brother has informed me that you have something of mine in your possession.”
“Yes. Yes, I do.” Assuming she didn’t get jumped by several men in dark suits the minute she stood up from her chair, she was going to murder Sherlock. Or at least banish him from the lab for several days.
She could almost hear Mycroft rolling his eyes. “I will authorize a one-time charge with the benefit organizer, on behalf of my brother. In exchange I shall have symphony tickets delivered to Baker Street tomorrow, and Sherlock will have the honour of escorting our parents next month in my stead. And I want my card back.”
John had spoken about being stuck in the middle of the brothers’ odd negotiations, but she’d never been drawn into them before. “I’ll let him know.”
“Please do. Enjoy the remainder of your evening, Miss Hooper.”
Molly held on to the card as if her life depended on it while she waited for . . . whatever it was she was waiting for.
Forty minutes into the auction, she understood everything.
The MC gestured for the current bachelorette to duck back behind the curtain, then returned his attention to the audience. “The next bachelor up on the program is Doctor John Watson. Unfortunately, Doctor Watson is unable to join us this evening. We are extremely fortunate that another gentleman has volunteered to take his place. Please welcome Sherlock Holmes.”
Sherlock trudged up the pair of steps to the platform as if he were going to the gallows. He had the tight, uncomfortable smile Molly recognized from so many press conferences. She wondered what could have possibly convinced him to agree to this.
“Sherlock, what tantalizing plans do you have in store for our next lucky bidder?” the MC asked.
Sherlock dismissively waved his hand. “Whatever John signed up for.”
“Excellent.” The MC addressed the audience again. “What will be the opening bid for an intimate meal, cooked in your own home by Sherlock Holmes himself, followed by an evening at the theatre.”
The sheer look of horror on Sherlock’s face made Molly laugh and completely miss the first bid. The next came seconds later. And then another.
His eyes met hers across the room, silently begging her to do something.
“Oh, right.” She raised her hand and added a hundred to the most recent offer. Sherlock’s shoulders slumped in relief until another woman upped the bid again.
Soon it came down to Molly and the other woman. If it had been her own money, Molly would have dropped out long before; but it was Mycroft’s card, Sherlock had specifically reminded her there was no limit . . . and it was for a good cause, after all.
With a devilish grin, she raised her hand once more. “Five thousand.”
Several people gasped, the other woman shook her head and settled back in her seat in disappointment, and the auction ended without another offer.
The MC was utterly delighted. “Thank you, madam! Money well spent, I’m sure. If you’ll make your way to the back to speak to our lovely coordinator to discuss your winning bid.” As Sherlock hurried off the platform the MC launched into the introduction of the next bachelorette.
Sherlock met her just as she finished arranging payment with a slightly befuddled benefit organizer.
“Five thousand pounds, Molly? You value my company that much?” He said it in a teasingly sarcastic manner, but Molly thought she saw a hint of something (Insecurity? Hope?) hidden in his flippant expression.
She shrugged and smiled, and held the credit card behind her back when he reached for it. “Oh no. Not until we’ve worked out the details of my intimate meal and visit to the theatre.”
The colour drained from his face. “You’re not seriously going to hold me to that, are you?”
“Absolutely.” Molly’s smile morphed into a grin. “Do you have any idea how long it’s been since someone cooked dinner for me?” She studied him as they retrieved Molly’s jacket and his Belstaff from the coat check.
She took a tiny bit of pity on him. “All right, I may be willing go compromise on the play.” His relief immediately melted away when she continued. “It sounds as if you’ll have enough of that sort of thing when you take your parents to the symphony next month. Mycroft’s terms, I’m afraid.”
“John is going to owe me, I don’t care if he threatened to-“ He saw Molly’s eyes widen and quickly cut himself off. “What do you want instead?”
“Picnic in the park?” She didn’t even try to hide her amusement, knowing full well he’d refuse. “A trip to the London Eye where you have to play nice around all the tourists? No? You make dinner at mine and the DVD I was planning to watch tonight. Final offer.”
He considered it as he flagged down a cab. “Rom-com?”
“Horror. No psycho killer, no mystery, straight up man-eating monster movie.”
Sherlock opened the cab door and gestured for her to get in. “Deal.”