Wait, wait, wait. Pause.

Ready? I hope no one seems too out of character. I hope someone will tell me if anyone is! Thank you!

Play!

Molly Hooper's Day Off

Ah. Welcome. Please, sit, sit. Get comfortable for we are about to embark on a tale of romance, danger, and well, where Anderson obviously messes up everything. But sit and relax, perhaps have a cuppa, it'll warm you right up. Are you nice and snug now? Good. Let's being on our tale with our heroine, Molly Hooper, in the tale, Molly Hooper's Day Off.

The story begins one day in the mortuary of St. Bartholomew's hospital where our bumbling heroine, Molly Hooper is about to make her move on the elusive Sherlock Holmes!

Okay, Molly, today's the day! Go for it! You could be one question away from going on an actual date that you've been dreaming of with your dream guy!

"Listen, I was wondering…"

You're doing good so far Molly….

"maybe later, when you're finished—"

"You're wearing lipstick. You weren't wearing lipstick before."

Shoot. I knew he'd notice. He always does. Well, not everything, like emotions, and other things like that, but, ah, you understand.

"I uh, I refreshed it a bit."

Okay, Molly, almost there…

"Sorry, you were saying?"

"I was wondering if you'd like to have coffee."

Perfect! Now-

"…Black. Two sugars please. I'll be upstairs."

Ow…It feels like he's used that riding crop on my heart to give it a good enough smack to send it spiraling down to my abdomen.

"Okay."


I retold the story to Toby, feeling myself sink farther into a somewhat depressed state. "Ah, Toby, what should I do?" I asked my cat, who only mewled in response, probably wondering where his dinner is.

"He just doesn't seem to understand," I explained, opening up a can of cat food. "I'll be mortified if I had to admit to him that I'm in love with him, but, I can't. It'll be too embarrassing," I plopped the food into Toby's bowl and set it on the floor and watched the cat devour it.

"What shall I do Toby?" I repeated to the cat, who looked up from his food temporarily as if he heard my question. Instead, Toby purred against my leg, comforting me in his own way. "Thank you, Toby," I smiled, petting my cat who purred louder against my touch. Toby smoothly leaped onto a chair next to the phone. He looked at my keys before glancing back at me.

I must have gone bonkers because I took that as a sign that I should get blasted off my arse.


And dear readers, she did.

"You know what I don't understand?" I slurred, my margarita shaking in my hand. "Is if he can solve the most complicated cases, why can't he get the clue that I love him? Huh? God, I don't care. Sod this." I chugged down the rest of my drink in my hand, it's cold contents going down too quickly, making me cough.

"You go!" The mysterious stranger on my right nodded, raising his drink. "You show him!"

"And that scarf! You can't just wear it all the time! He looks damn good in it, but ugh! Stop Molly!"

"That's right," the stranger agreed again. "Stop!"

"And I never take vacations or days off, and if I try to leave early, he'll probably just pop up with those cheekbones of his and his eyes and make me go back!"

"Then take a day off. Simple," the stranger who suddenly sobered up said.

"What?" I asked, not sure if I heard them right.

"Day off. Play hooky. Give yourself a break. Go anywhere but that morgue of yours!" The stranger burst out. "Here. Bartender! Do you have a paper and something to write with?"

After receiving a scrap of paper and a pen, the stranger began writing a list.

Day Off To Do

Avoid the morgue

Avoid that guy

Have fun

"But what am I going to do for a whole day, alone?" I asked, looking back up, where the stranger was supposed to be, but instead, I was met with a scrap of paper with a phone number, a little note written on it.

Call if need of assistance.


Back at her apartment, Molly laid in her bed and thought about what the stranger in the bar said. She thought and thought and thought.

Avoid the morgue? Avoid St. Barts? Avoid the one place where I'm at my most comfortable? The one place where I work alone, and the only people keeping me comfort are dead? The one place where the only heart I hear beating is my own, and on occassion, Sherlock's? The man who makes my heart speed up just by glancing at me? The man who can out wit even the brightest of people at Scotland Yard? The man who dismisses complex cases as a mere statement of elementary?

Molly thought so much, she didn't realize she had stayed awake the whole night.

The ringing of my alarm broke me off my train of thought. The shrill and clear ringing sounding loudly in my ear, waking me up to get ready for another day. Another day at St. Barts. Another day where I say morning to the day's new dead bodies. Another day where I stay, working in a cold and lonely room, desperately waiting for Sherlock to appear, to make my day brighter. To wait for the man who can see though anyone and any problem, except me. Passing me off as a transportation device to the real problem.

Just transport for the real solution to the real problem. Just a minor detail.

I turned to the side where my alarm was still at its final shrills to wake me up. I've decided.

No more morgue. No more cold bodies. No more lonely days. No more Sherlock. No more.

Well, at least for the day.

I slammed my hand down on the snooze button and rearranged the covers over my head as I fell into a deep and blissful sleep.

Look out world, here comes Molly Hooper on her day off.


And that dear reader, is where I shall leave off for now. My, isn't she just exciting! Just what will our heroine do next?


Thank you for reading!