Read the 1st chapter HERE
A/N: Huge thank you to all those who liked, reblogged and commented on the first chapter! There will be a third part but that’s the end, I promise.
Mr. Holmes the younger hadn’t at first meeting expected to be acquainted with his latest employee no longer than a few days the most, for he was certain she would follow the path of all the other housemaids before her and leave him after all the conditions of the work were revealed to her.
Since the other ones had barely stayed until the next day, he was in reality rather generous with his assumption.
It is then with a great astonishment that he takes in the sight of her not batting an eyelid as he explains to her about the tasks she is expected to carry out in his employment, one of them being handling human remains and internal organs.
“Excuse me sir but what did you say the name of your doctor friend at St. Bart’s was?” She looks up from her tiny notebook in which she has been scribbling all of his orders the whole of morning.
“Did you hear what I just said?” The detective looked down at her narrowing his eyes. What other reason than not listening would she have to still to act so calm.
“Yes I heard you. You want me to retrieve body parts from the hospital’s morgue for your experiments. But the name please? I need to write it down so I won’t forget.”
Staggered, he then as a test takes her downstairs to the basement’s cool storage cupboard which is half full of the same previously mentioned items and this time witnesses her face morph, instead of repulsion that he expects, to excitement and wonder when he opens the door and explains that her duty is to keep the storage in order.
“How on earth did you manage to acquire all these sir? Do not tell me that as a reward for your murder cases you get to have the victims as well as the donations from hospital?” She asks accompanied with a soft giggle.
Sherlock finds himself quite at lost for words.
After this he is certain that if it’s not the gruesome aspects of the job then surely it will be his difficult and erratic person that repels her enough to abandon Baker Street for good. But then as the day and the next one goes by against all odds the girl keeps proving him wrong. Even gladly it seems.
This surprising, but more than welcomed change in his domestic life then leads him to a new challenge.
“Maid, come here at this instant!”
Frustrated, Molly dropped the dustpan she was holding and with clonk it hit the floor.
“Sir, I have a name. Would you please do me right by remembering it and then using it rather than calling me plainly maid?” Molly huffed as she was growing tired with Mr. Holmes, who kept calling for her constantly from the kitchen meanwhile she was gathering the ashes out of the fireplace in the living room.
“I have been in your service for a week now. There is nothing more you can do to surprise me that would drive me away.” She reassures him as she leaves her chore, comes by the kitchen table and hands him the pipette which of course had been right in front of him the whole time.
His concentration leaves from the experiment in front of him and his eyes wander to her dirty form, her apron and cheeks covered with the grey flour like substance. The maid’s arms are crossed on her chest and on her face she holds the stubborn expression he has already grown quite accustomed to. Sherlock sighs and finds it easier to acquiesce than stir another feud. He has already lost enough of those with her today.
“Very well Miss. ..”
“Hooper, sir. But you can call me Molly. People usually refer to their housemaids by their Christian names.”
“Miss Hooper will do just fine.” He says as a drop of acid lands on the eyeball in the breaker and a small fizzing noise disrupts the silence.
Later he recognizes this as his first error in judgment concerning her.
The second one is agreeing to stop smoking because the teasing he receives from his Mycroft at this seems endless. But luckily the frustration against his elder brother is much diluted by Miss Hooper who seems to have come up with an inventive way to help her employer get back at him.
Molly, who in her assumption of the elder Mr. Holmes’ person is torn between gratification at having her name remembered by him whenever he comes for a visit and disapproval of his downgrading treatment of his little brother, always keeps extra pastries hidden in the kitchen cupboards and gives them to the elder Mr. Homes, who is too polite to refuse them, to take with him home.
Sherlock is delighted to see his dear brother’s waist line grow as his maid’s stay with him continues.
As the weeks go by Sherlock begins to realize that his housemaid’s potential reaches beyond than just cooking his supper and washing his dirty socks. Then as a consequence of this newfound acknowledgement of her well informed mind, Molly’s job description expands and in addition to the domestic chores she begins to aid him with his experiments and eventually he sees her even as a capable assistant in his work.
Molly, already understanding her master’s mind and nature, sees this as a great honor and which she can not thank him enough for. Her whole life has always strictly been divided between work and her interests but no longer is the line nearly as stark and she is joyous at having the chance to improve her knowledge on subjects she holds close to her heart.
Despite her nervousness at the thought of having to convey herself as a real lady amongst the genuine aristocratic folk, Molly basks in the excitement of getting to dress in beautiful and sometimes exotic outfits and lets Mrs. Hudson kindly do hairdos as she is eagerly waiting to accompany Mr. Holmes to another adventure.
Sherlock, while too ineligible man to comprehend the density of the veil of denial in which he has wrapped himself in, doesn’t realize the unpleasant truth until in the grins and small jests of Doctor Watson. He can now see that the petite servant is having a quite influence over him. The idea of someone, especially one of his subordinates, to have so much power is startling to say the least for a man of his caliber.