Sherlock BBC Fanfic
The ice wasn't empty for long. The younger skaters were getting onto the ice, plus a few more adults. Molly knew a few of them by name, but not well enough to say anything beyond a simple hello every week.
The local figure skating club, the Silver Rose Figure Skating Club (the SRFSC) wasn't an overly competitive club. Molly had been to rinks where the club's competitive nature turned skater against skater, but that wasn't the case with SRFSC. That meant that there weren't as many high-level skaters as there could be, but it also meant the skaters were more supportive of each other and more relaxed about competitions. It reminded Molly of the Fear Valley club.
Molly skated a warm-up lap around the rink, feeling the frosty air rush past her and cause her hair, pulled back into its customary ponytail, to wave like a flag behind her. After the lap she turned to assess the amount of traffic on the ice. There were a few younger kids and adults who couldn't move as fast and were keeping to the walls. There were maybe six older competitors who zipped around the rink at what to an outsider must seem like light speed. All in all, about a dozen skaters on the session. A fairly uncluttered session.
In her assessment of the crowd, Molly noticed a shorter girl practicing axels*. She was gliding backwards, head turned to look over his shoulder, her posture full of the stiffness of an inexperienced skater. Suddenly she stepped forward and pushed a few meager feet into the air before landing clumsily on her hip. She got up quickly, glaring at the ice as though it had caused her fall. Molly grinned as she recognized the situation as one she had been through many times before. It had taken her a little less than two years for her to start landing her axels consistently. It wasn't the most difficult jump in figure skating, but it was one of the most difficult to learn how to land. Since her skating hours had been cut back to two sessions a week, Molly had lost most of her doubles*, but she'd never let herself lose her axel. She'd worked too hard to land it.
The rest of the session was less planned out. There was no competition or test session* to work towards, so she usually just practiced old programs or field moves. It was good exercise, and it allowed her to keep memories of past competitions fresh in her mind.
Molly started going through the moves of an old program, the last one she'd had before going off to college. The moves were almost instinct from how many times she'd skated them. Back cross strokes*, cross in front*, three turn to forward*, fuetes*, step, mohawk*, cross. She didn't even have to think about each move anymore. It was just one fluid movement.
The coroner grinned to herself, glorying in the feeling of strength as she stretched through each move, each step graceful and extended. Molly was naturally clumsy, and it had been remarked on more than once, especially by a certain blunt detective. Whenever her lack of grace was noticed, she reminded herself that even though she was clumsier than other people on land, they would never match her in grace on the ice.
The minutes flew by, as they always did on those sessions. The cold rink air had made her hands pretty much numb. Her parents had always nagged her to wear gloves, but Molly liked how the cold nearly froze her fingers. It made her more awake, more alert. The cold always gave her energy.
The ice became more crowded as late-comers trickled onto the session. There were no formal rules or formalities on how to avoid crashing into another skater. It was all instinct. Molly sometimes felt it was like a dance as she wove through the throng of skaters, ducking past the people in her way and focusing on her skating at the same time. After twenty-four years, it was a dance she was skilled at.
There were only a few minutes left in her session when she finally got to practicing her axel. Weaving through the crowd, Molly glided backwards, her body tensed as she readied herself for the jump. She stepped forward and sprang into the air, immediately realizing she'd done something wrong. Her rather ungraceful landing, slamming hip-first down onto the ice, only confirmed that. The momentum of her jump sent her skidding a few feet; the coroner waited patiently to try to get up until she had stopped moving.
"Hey, you okay?" The words were followed by the scratch of someone coming to a halt behind her. Molly looked up to see an older teenager looking down at her with an air of concern. The girl - Brittany, Molly thought her name was - was a regular skater at the rink and a member of the club. Other than that, Molly didn't really know her.
She waited a moment to answer, shifting off of the hip she's landed on with a slight wince. "Yes, I think so. Just another fall, you know?" That was true enough. Falling was a common occurrence in skating.
Brittany relaxed, concern replaced by a grin. "That was an interesting fall," she chuckled. "That landing sounded like it hurt though."
"No, I'm fine." Molly got her feet under her and pushed herself up to an upright position. "Thanks for asking though, you really didn't have to."
Brittany shrugged easily. "Just wanted to make sure you were alright." She turned and skated off, quickly joined by a few more girls her age. Molly's grin faded as she watched the friends interacting. Ever since she'd started working at the hospital, she hadn't had many close friends. Sherlock Holmes was probably the closest thing she had to a friend, which was as sad as it got. She's had friends once. What had happened? Did becoming a coroner drive people away or something? Or was it her?
Molly got off her session far less euphoric than when she'd gotten on. Back to work and life until the weekend. Back to a lonely, empty flat, and long hours at a hospital and being head over heels for a sociopath. Back to being Dr. Molly Hooper, not Molly the skater.