Monologue/ficlet: Molly in dead silence.
So I have an audition on Monday for "Cinderella" and I decided to write my own monologue. Something cute, yet showing alot of different emotions. Going for a stepsister.
And I reached into the sea that is the Sherlock fandom and whipped up this little diddy. Molly's perspective from the lipstick scene.
I'm ridiculous. Enjoy.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
So I catalogued two bodies today.
One murder, one donation to the hospital. Typical stuff, really, when you think about it. Just another day working in the autopsy bay. Trying to make something out of this doctorate in pathology I landed myself in.
The only thing that makes this job interesting is…him.
He doesn’t notice me, well, he does- we talk every day, but… when he does talk to me, he seems far away. Distant. Almost looking through me with that icy gaze. It’s calculating. Frightening, yet enthralling.
I’d had enough. I had to ask. I said “Are you…when you’re done, I mean,”
“Are you wearing lipstick? You weren’t wearing lipstick before,” He suddenly asked me one day as we examined the bruises forming post mortem on a body that just rolled in from the Thames.
“I uh… refreshed it a bit.” I said.
He urged me on, and I let it spill.
“I was wondering if you would like to have coffee.”
He looked up from his notebook and smiled. Oh I do love his smile.
“Black. Two sugars. I’ll be upstairs.”
I barely muttered an “okay” and he was out the door. The lipstick was rubbed off within a split second.
Merciful god, how can I be so painfully awkward around him? He is a genius, through and through. Can sort through things in his mind like cataloguing the leaves on the trees, or the hairs on a head. He is the world’s only consulting detective after all. He goes through life as if staggered by his own brilliance, the rake.
I found him in the lab later, with the cup of coffee in my hand.
He thanked me, and all of a sudden he said
“What happened to the lipstick?” in a casually supercilious way.
“Oh, it wasn’t working for me, “I said, and he smiled.
“Oh really? I thought it was a big improvement. Your mouth is much too…small now.”
Either the man is terrifically oblivious or I am.
And I reached into the sea that is the Sherlock fandom and whipped up this little diddy. Molly's perspective from the lipstick scene.
I'm ridiculous. Enjoy.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
So I catalogued two bodies today.
One murder, one donation to the hospital. Typical stuff, really, when you think about it. Just another day working in the autopsy bay. Trying to make something out of this doctorate in pathology I landed myself in.
The only thing that makes this job interesting is…him.
He doesn’t notice me, well, he does- we talk every day, but… when he does talk to me, he seems far away. Distant. Almost looking through me with that icy gaze. It’s calculating. Frightening, yet enthralling.
I’d had enough. I had to ask. I said “Are you…when you’re done, I mean,”
“Are you wearing lipstick? You weren’t wearing lipstick before,” He suddenly asked me one day as we examined the bruises forming post mortem on a body that just rolled in from the Thames.
“I uh… refreshed it a bit.” I said.
He urged me on, and I let it spill.
“I was wondering if you would like to have coffee.”
He looked up from his notebook and smiled. Oh I do love his smile.
“Black. Two sugars. I’ll be upstairs.”
I barely muttered an “okay” and he was out the door. The lipstick was rubbed off within a split second.
Merciful god, how can I be so painfully awkward around him? He is a genius, through and through. Can sort through things in his mind like cataloguing the leaves on the trees, or the hairs on a head. He is the world’s only consulting detective after all. He goes through life as if staggered by his own brilliance, the rake.
I found him in the lab later, with the cup of coffee in my hand.
He thanked me, and all of a sudden he said
“What happened to the lipstick?” in a casually supercilious way.
“Oh, it wasn’t working for me, “I said, and he smiled.
“Oh really? I thought it was a big improvement. Your mouth is much too…small now.”
Either the man is terrifically oblivious or I am.