MirabileLectu

Douglas, the man who had introduced his unlucky-in-love captain to the niece who seemed to suffer the exact same maladies as he, had feared that her nearly instant attraction to Martin had been the product of misplaced attraction. The startling resemblance the two men bore to each other had not occurred to Douglas until he had seen them in a room together, but even despite the miles of intangible distance between their personalities and the staggeringly obvious difference in their heights, there was no denying the fact that there was some similarity that they shared. Was it really so unbelievable that Molly would see that as well? That she would settle for Martin as the lesser but more easily attainable alternative to the man she truly desired? Douglas hoped not. For all the teasing, for all the needling, for all the endless barbs that he sent in Martin's direction he did wish the best for him, and it was for that reason that he worried. He worried that Martin would be hurt, that his one attempt at a successful relationship would end in disaster. He could only pray that he would not be proved correct.

The moment Carolyn had first seen a picture of the infamous Sherlock Holmes on the internet after hearing oh so much about him and his escapades, her eyebrows had shot directly into her hairline and years of hard-won experience and bitter lessons whispered a warning in her ear. She could not say exactly what it was about the imperious man who should look nothing like her stammering and awkward Captain that reminded her so strongly of Martin, but the resemblance was uncanny. And if Carolyn had learned anything from two failed marriages and more disappointments and betrayals than she cared to remember, it was just how terribly wrong a promising relationship could turn. She hoped that Martin would not face the same heartbreak at the hands of a less-than-honest lover that she had, but cynicism was a hard habit to break. They would have to wait and see.

Even John, kind, honest, trusting John, had doubted for just a moment. It was not a thought that he was proud of himself for, not something he liked to realize about himself, that he had thought Molly capable of such a thing. Molly had been nothing but kind and helpful to him, and here he was assuming that the only reason she had started dating her new boyfriend was that he looked so very like a certain flatmate of his that she had fancied. It was incredibly uncharitable, and yet as he shook Martin's hand and privately marveled at how very similar two incredibly dissimilar men could look had come the tiny whisper of "Oh, so that's why she likes him." The thought had been quashed nearly as soon as it had occurred, but it had still existed. John had doubted Martin and Molly as a couple.

The only person who never had any doubts whatsoever that Molly Hooper loved Martin Crieff for himself, and not for any resemblance he bore to Sherlock Holmes, was Sherlock Holmes himself. After their first meeting with the much-discussed airline captain, John had waited for the biting and unthinkingly cruel comment from Sherlock about Molly finding a poor substitute for himself, but it had never come. In fact, Sherlock had said nothing about Martin during or after the encounter, something that shocked John to his very core. He kept listening for the snide assessment of Martin’s height, the callous deduction of all of his flaws, the flat statement of just how Molly felt about her new boyfriend with no heed paid to how anyone else might feel about it. But after Sherlock had simply greeted Martin with a quiet hello and a cordial nod of his head, and when he continued to remain silent on the matter, John could bear it no longer.

“So, Martin then…” he began uncertainly, unreasonably curious about Sherlock’s assessment of the couple and yet unsure how to bring the topic up delicately.

Sherlock looked over at him with a quirked eyebrow and a knowing look on his face. “Before you ask, yes I did indeed see the resemblance between the two of us.” A quick smirk flicked across his face, there and gone again in an instant. “And frankly I’m insulted that you think I missed it.”

John snorted, rolling his eyes slightly. “Yes Sherlock, this entire conversation is about you of course. No, what I was wondering is –“

Sherlock cut him off, once again racing to the answer of his question before John could even complete it. “She loves him. It’s obvious, really, pathetically obvious even. The two of them are practically shouting it out for everyone to hear, I’m appalled that you missed it.” John’s face must have shown the confusion he felt, if Sherlock’s sigh and eye roll were anything to go by. He raised his hand to tick off his fingers one by one as he spoke. “Firstly, and most obviously, the two of them cannot keep their hands off of each other. They held hands as they entered the room, they stood shoulder to shoulder the entire time, and whenever they were not in contact Molly would seek him out for reassurance. Second, the way she looks at him. Her eyes, to use a fanciful expression, light up when he is speaking. She smiles every time their gazes meet. And the way she looks at him when she thinks no one is looking…”

Sherlock trailed off, face thoughtful. John had no idea what had made him appear so distant, but the moment was gone nearly as soon as it had begun. Sherlock shook himself back to reality and looked over at John, an expression like John had never seen before on his face. “Molly Hooper loves Martin Crieff, completely. And she is well loved in return.”

John never doubted them again.