Disclaimer: I do not own anything.

Author's Note: I promise I'll write the next chapter of Obssession in a bit, but I can't get this ship out of my head! It seems like Sam and Molly would be perfect for each other; you know, make each other feel good about themselves. (I'm a multi-shipper,tbh ) By the way, just imagine Sherlock is back somehow; I won't really say how cuz i have no idea. Let me know if I should continue or leave it as a oneshot? On with the story!

It happened on a humid day in the summer of 2013, when a girl no more than 19 had been found lying dead in the street. A tall, broad shouldered FBI agent with brown hair that hung almost to his shoulders, and tired looking eyes, was here to investigate, as evidenced by the badge he stuck out upon first meeting her.

"Hi, I'm Agent Townshend, I'm here to briefly examine the body of," the man looked down at a paper, "Vannessa Wilder?"

Molly, who had been a bit struck by the man, quickly composed herself.

"Oh, um, of course. I'm Molly Hooper, I can show you to the body if you'd like?"

Sam briefly grinned at the shy girl before him.

"That would be great, if you wouldn't mind."

"It's not trouble," Molly promised, leading him through the door and into the morgue. "I do wonder, though, why the FBI is so concerned with this? I mean, isn't that more of an American thing?"

"Well, uh,"the agent suddenly looked nervous, and Molly couldn't help but think that panicked look on such strong looking man was rather adorable, if not a little conspicuous. "Me and my partner were in the area on account of some international business. On our way back, we heard about this case and thought it might be worth checkinng out."

"Oh...so...where is your partner?"

"Oh, just talking to some witnesses and such."

"Cool...well anyway, here it is!"Molly gestured toward the body. When Sam didn't loook though, she turned to where he was facing and saw Sherlock bent over the body and John eying Sam curiously.

"Hello, I'm Agent Townshend, here to investigate the Vannessa Wilder Case,"Sam stuck out his hand with a thin lipped smile.

"Pleasure, the name's John Watson."

The man bent over the body briefly turned to Sam, eyed him up and down, gave an insincere smile, then went back to work.

"Don't mind Sherlock; he's just like that,"Molly said quickly. It was bad enough that Sherlock didn't notice her, but she didn't need him ruining any chance she had with Sam.

Of course, Molly thought quickly, there's no CHANCE for him to ruin. Sam was here on business and that was all.

Sam laughed and Sherlock finally turned around and faced them all. "Like what?"he asked, not unkindly , but genuine confusion and a bit of hurt apparent on his face. Bad day then.

Molly opened her mouth to wave it off, because as many times as Sherlock had hurt her, she had NEVER wanted to hurt him. But Sam beat her to it, merely saying,

"I'm sure Miss Hooper just meant that you're very absorbed in your work; don't let anything distract you." Sherlock looked at Sam curiously for a moment and then asked,

"What do you need?"

"Just here to examine the body; see if it's worth the FBI's time." Sherlock's eyes lit up at that, though Molly had no idea why, and said,

"Yes, well, no point looking. I've examined every inch of her body; run every test there is. This girl was perfectly healthy and there are no signs of stuggle whatsoever: if I didn't know any better, I'd say she dropped dead for no reason."

"I see. Are you sure there was no stuggle; her file suggests that she was bullied a lot for being very open about her bisexuality."

"If you don't believe me, take a look for yourself; this girl was not touched." Sam's eyes scanned over the body rapidly.

"I believe you,"he sighed, as though this was the worst possible thing that could have happened. "I have to go now; I'll be in touch." He turned to Molly.

"It was um, very nice to meet you Molly."

"You too." The exchanged grins and he left. Molly turned to leave as well, but not before John adressed her.

"You know, you should have gotten his number. You two were checking each other out enough for sure." He smiled and Molly rolled her eyes and told him to shut up. As she said this, she subtly tried to slip the piece of paper Sam had handed to her, with neat, delicate writing on it. Unfortunately, you could hardly ever expect to do something around Sherlock Holmes and it go unnoticed. Sherlock plucked the paper right out of the pocket of her white examiner coat and said,

"John, I think you'll find she actually did."

John gasped teasingly. "Our precious little Molly thinking about hooking up?"

Sherlock smiled, quite amused, and added, "Just imagine the kids. They'll have one as tall as a tree and one as short as a cat!"

With that, Molly picked up a magazine, rolled it, and smacked Sherlock on the arm.

"Ow, he started it!"Sherlock accused John, and John tried to look innocent.

"Oh, shut up, the lot of you. It's not going to happen. He's just an agent, doing his job."

Sherlock suddenly sobered up, and a look of contemplation washed over his face.

"What?What is it?" Molly said hurriedly. That look never meant anything good.

He sighed, ruffling a hand through his hair. "I wouldn't sound so sure of that last part if I were you."