Falling Stars and Cigarettes

Play Nice

   A loud knock on the door jerked Sibley out of her sleep. The day before had been long, pouring over images and evidence with her father and his partner, finally stumbling in around two in the morning. Looking at her alarm clock she discovered, horrified, that she had slept in... Till 2:30.

"Oh my God!" she practically fell out of the bed as she scrambled to get dressed and ran to answer the door.

"Molly? What are you doing here?" she asked, pulling on her tattered coat and closing the door behind her.

"Oh, I came to see where you were. I was worried Sherlock had said something." she said.

"What do you mean?" she asked as she hailed a cab and told him where to go.

"He has a habit of being insulting. I thought maybe you were upset and that's why you weren't at work." she said.

"No, no, Mr. Holmes was fine, bit annoying, but nothing I can't handle. I guess I'm just tired. Detective Lestrade isn't upset, is he?" she asked, clutching the end of her jumper in concern.

"No, no, he was also worried, to be quite honest. Sherlock is unpredictable," Molly said. Sibley studied her and let a light smile tug at her lips. Molly had a crush.

"Better to be unpredictable than boring," she pointed out. Molly giggled.

"That's something he would say," she said. Sibley brightened at this.

"Is it?" she asked. Molly nodded. Finally they pulled up to Scotland yard.

"I'll see you later, yeah?" Sibley questioned, hovering in the doorway.

"Yes, have fun at work," she waved and Sibley closed the door. The cab sped off in the direction of Barts Hospital and Sibley walked towards the office.

"Ah, there you are, I was worried the freak had kidnapped you," Sally teased.

"He's not a freak. Different, yes, but not a freak," Sibley defended. She felt her stomach turn when hearing her father be insulted.

"Hmm, clearly you didn't spend very much time with him," she said. Sibley bit her lip and just walked away from her.

"Detective Inspector?" she asked, leaning and knocking on his open office door. He looked up from some papers and smiled warmly at her.

"Ah, there you are. How did Yesterday go?" he asked.

"Fine. Mr. Holmes is quite the character," she said, a small smile on her face.

"Definitely so. Well, he said he would like to see you again today. It's up to you," Lestrade said. She brightened, her smile growing.

"He did? I would love too!" she exclaimed a bit too excitedly. Lestrade chuckled.

"Strange, Sherlock seems to have taken a liking to you. He doesn't like many people," Lestrade said to her.

"Oh," she had figured this. After spending time with him she had diagnosed him as a high functioning sociopath so this revelation didn't surprise her. The fact that Sherlock liked her did. She wouldn't have guessed it, he was a bit cold. Then again, she could tell the difference between a generally cold person and someone who's protecting themselves, Sherlock was the latter.

"Thank you, sir. Should I go down to 221 Baker Street?" she questioned. He nodded and waved her off. She rushed out and to a cab, all too eager to see her father again.

Father. She wasn't typically the person to hide things and be secretive. She had always assumed if she met her father, she'd be straight forward with him. Then she met Sherlock and she couldn't. She didn't know how to approach the topic or how he would react. He clearly despised feelings and attachment so would he be excepting of a daughter or would he push her away? Would he want anything to do with her once he found out who she was? Telling him held so many possibilities and outcomes she wouldn't prefer. She was safer with this secret. It was protection. After all, nobody liked to be rejected.