Five Minutes
Fill written for the following prompt on sherlockbbc_fic :
Molly has to undress an unconscious Sherlock for medical reasons.
Original entry here
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FIVE MINUTES
Later, she would remember how steady her hands had been. How calm her breathing.
Right now, she was expertly unbuttoning Sherlock’s shirt, rolling him over to get it off. She moved on to his trouser, undoing the belt, button, zipping down the fly. She’d gotten rid of shoes and socks first. Then grabbing his boxers shorts too, she had him completely naked in less than ten seconds.
Starting from his head, she inspected ever inch of his body, from his scalp to his feet. Noting every scar, every discoloration, she couldn’t find any break in the skin that Sherlock had told her to look for. She glanced at the clock on the wall, acutely aware of every second ticking by. He’d told her five minutes, give or take, and almost four were up.
She looked at the unconscious man, willing him to give her a clue, anything to help her save him. But he remained motionless, unresponsive.
If he died, she thought, he’d never forgive her. Later, she would smile at the absurd thought.
Something niggled at the back of her head. She closed her eyes, willing it to surface. And then there it was, the detail that had escaped her.
The scar, near his knee. It looked odd. It had felt odd. She wished she had more time to inspect it fully, but the second hand was ticking too loudly.
She grabbed the scalpel and made one precise incision. Blood trickled out of the wound, as she stuck her index finger in there. She felt it, small, solid and using the tweezers, she managed to get it out intact. Her trained mind instantly catalogued the foreign object and she carefully placed it in the pan. But as she did so, it disintegrated. Later, she would describe it to Sherlock with as much detail as she could.
She headed to the telephone, called for an emergency team, explaining the situation.
It took them five minutes to get down to the morgue.
Later, she would visit Sherlock in his hospital room, with John lecturing him on his rather reckless behavior that had led to the situation. John would look at her with admiration. Sherlock would even express his gratitude by saying “Thank you” to her. She would sit there, blushing, obviously pleased by the two men’s reactions.
But right now, waiting for the team to get here, she was telling herself that she was staring intently at the unexpected small tattoo near his hip and not at his rather large cock.
The End
Molly has to undress an unconscious Sherlock for medical reasons.
Original entry here
---
FIVE MINUTES
Later, she would remember how steady her hands had been. How calm her breathing.
Right now, she was expertly unbuttoning Sherlock’s shirt, rolling him over to get it off. She moved on to his trouser, undoing the belt, button, zipping down the fly. She’d gotten rid of shoes and socks first. Then grabbing his boxers shorts too, she had him completely naked in less than ten seconds.
Starting from his head, she inspected ever inch of his body, from his scalp to his feet. Noting every scar, every discoloration, she couldn’t find any break in the skin that Sherlock had told her to look for. She glanced at the clock on the wall, acutely aware of every second ticking by. He’d told her five minutes, give or take, and almost four were up.
She looked at the unconscious man, willing him to give her a clue, anything to help her save him. But he remained motionless, unresponsive.
If he died, she thought, he’d never forgive her. Later, she would smile at the absurd thought.
Something niggled at the back of her head. She closed her eyes, willing it to surface. And then there it was, the detail that had escaped her.
The scar, near his knee. It looked odd. It had felt odd. She wished she had more time to inspect it fully, but the second hand was ticking too loudly.
She grabbed the scalpel and made one precise incision. Blood trickled out of the wound, as she stuck her index finger in there. She felt it, small, solid and using the tweezers, she managed to get it out intact. Her trained mind instantly catalogued the foreign object and she carefully placed it in the pan. But as she did so, it disintegrated. Later, she would describe it to Sherlock with as much detail as she could.
She headed to the telephone, called for an emergency team, explaining the situation.
It took them five minutes to get down to the morgue.
Later, she would visit Sherlock in his hospital room, with John lecturing him on his rather reckless behavior that had led to the situation. John would look at her with admiration. Sherlock would even express his gratitude by saying “Thank you” to her. She would sit there, blushing, obviously pleased by the two men’s reactions.
But right now, waiting for the team to get here, she was telling herself that she was staring intently at the unexpected small tattoo near his hip and not at his rather large cock.
The End