Authors Note: Not my first Fanfiction, just my first Sherlock one. Cheers for 3 seasons of this amazing show, and I hope you enjoy. Am I the only one who felt like the only question Moffat answered in series 3 was what Anderson's first name was? (Phillip) This story makes references to when Sherlock was drunk and began yelling that he "knew Ashton" before getting in a fight, when Molly slapped Sherlock in His Last Vow as well as when she apparently stabs Tom in the hand with a fork at John's wedding. That's all! –R.W
"Anderson I don't mean to be rude but….what the hell are you talking about?" Molly asked as she took off her gloves and glanced over at the agent suspiciously. He was reclining back in the chair at her desk with a dreamy face.
"I already told you. If you don't tell me how Sherlock survived the fall I'm going to tell you my top 5 theories and some of the others I've heard. They're actually very interesting," he said before scratching his beard in the reflection of the morgues stainless steel cabinets.
"That's not what I meant. I meant what's up with the whole 'and after he jumped through the window, he ruffled his hair, kissed you and walked straight out of St. Bart's' thing?" Molly asked, extremely nervous and red at the thought of that ever happening. "I hope you're not implying there's something between us. I've moved on and I'm quite happy"
"How are things with Tom?" Anderson interjected suddenly, sitting up a bit straighter.
"Fine, we had a bit of a row and the weddings off for now, but were still seeing each other. It's complicated. Why are you even asking me all this?" Molly said as she reached up and touched her forehead. She could feel a headache coming on.
"I just borrowed a little bit of Sherlock's deduction process and see it like this: he trusted you to save his life and his friends in the process, he took you on a case with him, you no longer have a ring and the marriage with Tom is off shortly after John's wedding which, by the way, Lestrade told me about. He said something about you stabbing Tom in the hand with a fork after Sherlock was talking….?"
"I forgot I was holding the fork!" Molly said a bit loudly, starting to get annoyed. "Why are you even here? This is a morgue and you should be down at Scotland Yard or something."
"Okay sorry, sorry," Anderson said, a bit stunned by the usually mellow girl's outburst. The only time he'd ever seen her get this mad was through a story John told him about her slapping Sherlock in the face over drugs. That was definitely a point against his 'Sherlolly' theory. After all if they were together, would she really slap him? Or maybe she would out of care, who knew. Anderson had started a whole community on about his SherlockxMolly pairing and perhaps he'd ask a few followers in his later stories. He cleared his throat before finishing with "I was just asking."
"Well don't. There's nothing to ask about and you really should stop obsessing over these fall theories. I'm not telling you and I doubt Sherlock will either, so you really should get back to work," Molly said with a huff as she opened up a cabinet and began sorting some filing.
"But Molly…" Anderson began right as the door opened and someone stepped inside.
"I don't care if I was drunk, my only questions are who this Ashton person is and why it was so important that I apparently knew them," Sherlock said into his phone as he shook out his coat and hung it on a nearby rack. "Anyway John I'll talk to you about it later I'm at St. Bart's, bye." He hung up and looked around the room before stopping his eyes on Anderson and Molly, staring at him with shocked and nervous gazes. Well, not much out of the ordinary there.
"Molly I'll need your opinion on this blood spray pattern from the Archer case. I need to know where EXACTLY a knife would need to hit to get that spray as well as where the victim would need to be standing, oh and…." Sherlock stopped as the two continued to stare at him.
Anderson in the morgue? What does he need? He doesn't have a current case so that means it's personal. Hm, they're obviously shocked by my entry which means they're probably trying to hide something or are embarrassed about they were saying before my arrival. Gossip is hardly worth this level of staring, so maybe sexual content? Unlikely, as far as I know Molly is still in a relationship with Mr. Meat Dagger and hardly seems the cheating type. Being shocked by my entry could also mean they weren't expecting company, but this hospital is busy at this time so why not? Ah, its not that they weren't expecting company, it's that they weren't expecting me.
"Were you two talking about me?" Sherlock said suspiciously, still paused by the door. Anderson let out a huge burst of laughter and Molly blushed before turning back to her filing.
"Ah Sherlock you're at it again. Those spot on deductions," Anderson laughed as he wiped tears from his eyes.
"Anderson I believe my false suicide may have triggered some sort of underlying mental illness you were not aware of up until this point. Do have that checked as soon as possible, I can't tell emotions half the time without the hysterical laughing and crying anyway," Sherlock said while rolling his eyes and walking over to where Molly was scribbling notes furiously.
Anderson stopped laughing and took a deep breath before turning back over to the two of them. "Uh, yes actually we were just talking about the Archer case and how you figured out there's no way the wife could have done it. Not only was she away having an affair but after I thought about it she's much too short. Anyway I better get back to the Yard, justice calls," he finished before heading out the door Sherlock had just entered from.
Crossed arms, scratching of neck, blinking more often, liar. Sherlock thought as Anderson took his leave. Keeping this in mind he pulled out the photograph and slide it on top of the papers Molly was reading, directly into her eyesight,
"This is the blood spray pattern I was talking about from before. I can see he was hit from the left side, but that's about it. Before we get started on that however," Sherlock said as he crossed his arms and leaned back against the metal counters. "Justice calls?"
Molly looked up and took a moment to process what he was even saying before realizing it was Anderson's leaving words. She let out a small laugh and shook her head. "Yeah haha, he's a bit weird that one. I don't even know why he was in here."
"Well what did he say?" Sherlock asked, studying her face to see if she would lie as well. All she did was remain silent.
Well this is new. Sherlock thought to himself as he uncrossed his arms and awkwardly waited for a reply.
After what seemed like a few minutes Sherlock decided he'd rather not bother Molly right now, obviously seeing she was upset by something, and turned to leave.
"You know he thinks I still have a thing for you right?" Molly said quietly as she continued to read. Sherlock turned back around, taking his turn in trying to identify what she was talking about.
"Do you mean Anderson?" He asked slightly confused to its relevance.
"Yes, I mean Anderson. He has a whole section on devoted to stories about us, and people keep questioning me like its true. He's obsessed," Molly said with a sigh.
"Ha, well, you should see what they post about John and I. Being a famous detective means you have fans, and fans mean more business but also more weird stories and knocks for autographs at one in the morning. As I said before, I believe Anderson may have a few screws loose."
"That's not the point Sherlock," Molly interjected, "Many of those stories are just in good fun, but Anderson walked in talking about his 'theory' like it was fact. He seems to think I'll never be over you, and that you actually like me as well, it's crazy. I just want to be quite clear on this: I do not like you anymore. There, I said it," she finished, saying it all very fast as though she were ripping off a metaphorical band-aid.
Sherlock stared at her with a blank expression for a good 10 seconds before slowly scratching the back of his head. "Okay, can we get back to the photograph now?"
"Sure," Molly said, feeling relieved to get that off her chest.
She glanced the spray pattern over and took a few measurements with her ruler before turning back towards him. "You can definitely tell he was hit from the left by the whipping and how the blood landed on the wall, and I'd say that if that much blood was thrown upwards then he was most likely in the corner, facing his murderer. The whipping also indicates he was slashed from the torso and continuing up to his neck, killing him quickly. That's all I know about it. You probably should have asked Anderson since he's in forensics, I'm not an expert on this stuff," Molly said as she handed the photograph back to him.
"That's all I needed to know, thank you," Sherlock said as he returned the photo to his pocket and took his coat off the rack.
"Anytime," Molly replied as she went back to her stack of papers, "Good luck solving the case."
Sherlock smiled and began walking towards the door before stopping and turning back to face her. "I don't need luck," he said in what John called his 'mysterious voice". All she did was laugh.
At that point Sherlock knew he should have left. He knew it was probably best for the 2 of them, and Tom, if he kept his mouth closed and went back to working his case. However, as much as Sherlock Holmes preached about the importance of never letting your heart rule over your head, this time he let it slip in a very subtle way.
"Oh, and Molly," Sherlock said as she turned to look up at him one more time. "I agree with Anderson. He's right, and he was also right about the wife being far too short. Goodnight," and with that he left, leaving Molly standing alone in the empty morgue.
At first she thought nothing of his last comment, but as more minutes passed by she began to realize the true meaning behind his words. He wasn't just mentioning the Archer case and repeating the silly fact Anderson had provided, he had said AND. He's right, and he was also right about the wife being far too short. Those were his words, so what else was Anderson right about?
"Hm, and…." Molly whispered to herself as she continued on with her work, a certain feeling sparking within her making her wish Sherlock would come back.
Interestingly enough, from his hiding spot beneath the window Anderson had heard this whole conversation and picked up on Sherlock's choice of words as well. He scribbled a few notes into his little red notebook and smiled.
"This is going to make one good fanfiction."