Title: Meet Cute
Author: hooperanddavidson
Fandoms: Torchwood & Sherlock
Characters/Pairings: Andy Davidson, Molly Hooper, pre-Andy/Molly.
Summary: Molly Hooper is just the sort of improvement Andy Davidson's day needs.
Rating: Eh, K+
Warnings: None.
Disclaimer: I'm just a fangirl.
Author's Note: To those of you who read and reviewed "To Autumn", thank you so much. This is more of Andy and Molly, obviously, although I haven't decided if this is in the same 'verse as "To Autumn" yet.
This is dedicated to the unforgivably lovely Crystal M. Key, who is all kinds of wonderful.
Meet Cute
As far as days went, Sergeant Andrew Davidson's definitely had some room for improvement. At half past seven in the morning, there was definitely time for improvement as well, so he tried to stay optimistic even as the vending machine in front of him collected his money and then didn't vend. Bloody machines, he thought gloomily, looking around for somebody he could flash his badge and a smile at for directions to coffee that was poured from a proper coffee pot. He wasn't familiar with the hallways of St. Bart's and the man he was supposed to be meeting was late and getting later.
If he were a different sort of man, he might have blamed his ex-partner and good friend Gwen Coo—Williams, it had been Williams for a few years now, though he still conveniently forgot about that when he could, which was whenever her husband and daughter weren't around. Andy shook his head to clear it, trying to remember what had gotten him onto that train of thought. Oh, right. If he were a different sort of man, he would have blamed Gwen for the whole of his last miserable six hours, during which he had been woken up after a long and difficult shift and wheedled into driving from Cardiff to London to meet a Detective Inspector Lestrade at St. Bart's, who was as previously stated late. It wasn't the first time Gwen had called on him to do some middle man work for one of her spooky doos, he knew it wouldn't be the last either, and he didn't really mind. He would have not minded at all if he wasn't so damn tired.
Andy stuck his hands in his pockets and glanced around again, his morning looking up when he realized that the hallway he was standing awkwardly in was slightly less empty than it had been. A woman had come round the corner, wearing a white lab coat, a steaming mug in her hands. She slowed when she saw him.
"Oh. Hello."
She was quite fit, Andy noticed, swallowing against the sudden drought in his mouth. Almost his height, slender, with long, light brown hair in a thick braid that fell over one shoulder and brown eyes that were studying him with a curious wariness. Under her lab coat she was wearing a yellow v-neck sweater that teased with peeks of cleavage that Andy determinedly moved his eyes away from, back up to her pretty face.
"All right?" She asked, stopping about a meter away from him. He nodded.
"Er, yes, I'm fine."
"You're here early." Her tone was cautious, as was the hesitant smile she gave him.
"I'm meeting someone."
"Meeting someone?"
"Oh, right, sorry," Andy wondered if his ears were red. He felt like an overgrown school boy, awkward and gangly, as he stuck his hand out. "Sergeant Andrew Davidson, South Wales Police. I'm supposed to be meeting someone from New Scotland Yard."
"Here?"
"What?"
"You're meeting them here at St. Bart's."
"We have business in the morgue."
The woman blinked, then took a step forward and slipped one warm hand into the one Andy still offered to her, the other still clutching her coffee mug.
"I'm Molly Hooper," she said, her smile less hesitant that time, "I work in the morgue, actually."
"Oh?"
"Yes, I'm one of the forensic pathologists." Molly pulled her hand away quickly, as though realizing she was still holding Andy's, her cheeks reddening. Andy felt his own ears get hotter. "Um, who from the Yard are you waiting for? I work closely with them, sometimes."
"Man by the name of Lestrade, do you know him?"
Molly's pretty brown eyes widened and she breathed a startled laugh. "I do, actually. I'm on my way to meet him. He's down in the morgue."
Andy cursed, making Molly's eyes go wider and her cheeks get redder. "He's going to think I'm a right bloody idiot."
"No he won't," said Molly hurriedly. "We'll say that—that we bumped in to each other and since the coffee machine is broken, I offered to get you a cuppa. It's only the truth, anyway."
Andy's grin was slow and wide. "Are you offering to get me a cuppa?"
"It'd look like a story if I didn't. Come on."
And as Andy followed the charming woman back the way she had come, he thought his day was improving nicely already.