Dr. Molly Hooper moved quietly through the shadows of the basement morgue at St. Bart's. Most nights spent in the facility brought her a feeling of peace. Moving among the cadavers never bothered her. Molly talked to the dead, but they had yet to talk back. But this evening was different. It was as if she could feel something moving in the cold shadows. Something unpleasant watching her. She couldn't wait for the end of her shift.
Later that night as Molly left her office to take care of something in the morgue itself, she was, indeed, surprised to see a tall figure standing in a corner, half in and half out of shadow. She froze in place, but the figure moved into the light. A beautiful woman with dark hair, perfectly coiffed and perfectly made up. She moved with a commandingly fluid grace toward her, saying in a surprisingly sultry voice, "Dr. Hooper, I presume?"
Molly knew immediately who was standing opposite her. Irene Adler.
"So, not dead, I presume," Molly said calmly.
"No, not dead. You surely know how that works, Dr. Hooper."
Molly looked her over. She was every bit as beautiful as the pictures on her website. More so, in Molly's estimate, without the bondage gear which seemed to be her stock in trade.
"I presume Sherlock knows about this, as he must have been involved. He did identify your body, after all."
"Yes, and not from my face." Irene gave a lascivious grin, as if taunting the pathologist. "Well, that may have been an honest mistake. But there was certainly no mistake about me being alive after our meeting in Karachi!"
"Does he know you're here?"
"Here, in this lab? Or here in London?"
"Either one, I suppose."
"I wanted to see Sherlock. I miss him. Our last...interaction, shall we say, in Karachi left me wanting more, if you get my meaning." Irene studied Molly, looking for a reaction. "I was thanking him for saving my life, you know. And I'm not sure I have sufficiently expressed my gratitude." Irene now looked Molly up and down, appraising her. "You're not exactly what I expected, Molly Hooper. Not the way Sherlock described you at all!"
"And now I'm supposed to get all curious, I suppose, about exactly how Sherlock did describe me. I hate to disappoint you, but I hold no illusions about what Sherlock Holmes thinks of me."
"And after all you've done for him. Did he ever ah...express his gratitude Molly? Sufficiently?"
"He didn't have to. I never expected him to."
"Ah, but what you're not saying is whether you wanted him to." The dominatrix gave the pathologist a steamy look, and moved a bit closer, a move that seemed almost threatening. "He really never did mention how lovely you are. I can't believe he wasn't tempted just the least little bit." She now ran her finger down the curve of Molly's jaw.
"Don't touch me!"
"And what are you going to do about it, my little mouse? Don't you think I can get Sherlock to share his pet with me?" Her voice was confident as her lips formed themselves into a knowing smirk. "Maybe we could all play together?"
"What do you really want, Miss Adler?"
"So formal, Molly?" But Irene backed off a bit. "I need you to get in touch with Sherlock for me."
"His number hasn't changed, Miss Adler. Call him yourself!" Molly Hooper stood up a bit taller, as tall, in fact, as her petite frame would allow. "Unless, of course, you're afraid that he would ignore your call, that is." Molly could see that her words had hit their mark.
Anger flashed in Irene's eyes as she once again moved in very close to the doctor, and removed a small knife from her coat pocket. "Don't make me use this Dr. Hooper. I can be very persuasive." Irene was trying to intimidate with attitude, as much as the weapon, the mark of a true dominatrix. Her only problem was in misjudging Molly Hooper, who was not really submissive by nature, except in the case of Sherlock Holmes.
Moments later Irene Adler lay on the floor of the pathology lab, clutching a handkerchief over her nose, while Molly Hooper stood over her, with her right foot pinning her wrist to the floor. "I've decided that I will get in touch with Sherlock for you, Irene." Molly thumbs were moving quickly over the keys of her mobile.
A FRIEND OF YOURS HAS DROPPED IN TO SEE ME. IRENE ADLER, SURPRISINGLY NOT DEAD. I AM NOT SORRY TO SAY I HAVE BROKEN HER NOSE. ANY SUGGESTIONS? - MOLLY
ON MY WAY. ARE YOU ALRIGHT? - SHERLOCK
I AM FINE. SHE SEEMS VERY EAGER TO SEE YOU - MOLLY
AND MYCROFT IS VERY EAGER TO SEE HER! GIVE HER AN ICE BAG AND INFORM HER THAT MY BROTHER IS ON HIS WAY. - SHERLOCK
WHAT SHOULD I DO WITH HER? BURYING HER AGAIN SEEMS OUT OF THE QUESTION, I SUPPOSE - MOLLY
SUGGEST THAT SHE LEAVE YOUR LAB, AND THE UK, IMMEDIATELY TO AVOID FURTHER COMPLICATIONS. - SHERLOCK
Molly removed her foot from Irene's wrist and allowed her to rise. She then showed her the text messages.
"Do you really want to hang around for that ice bag, Miss Adler? It may take me some time, and Mycroft has always been known to be very prompt."
Irene was still trying to stop the bleeding from her nose as she said, her voice sounding a bit nasal and slightly distorted, not at all the smoothly seductive one to which so many of her clients fell prey, "I've underestimated you, Dr. Hooper. I won't do it again. Sherlock…"
"...no longer underestimates me, Miss Adler. And he has indeed been very grateful for my assistance. Very grateful, indeed." Molly smiled as the dominatrix beat a hasty retreat, then picked up her mobile.
WE NEED TO TALK ABOUT KARACHI - MOLLY