Not A Bad Thing
o-o-o
Sherlock stopped in his tracks and leaned his slim form on the door frame of St. Bartholomew's Hospital's morgue when he caught sight of Molly dancing. It was one of those slow, poppy ditties she loved so much, so her eyes were closed as she swayed to the music coming from the tiny radio the hospital had allowed her in the sterile gloom of the mortuary. Her shift was done, Sherlock observed, so she had pushed the now-sterilized gurneys to the side so the mortuary had a big space in the middle. Her back was to him as she did a rather smooth hip-hop two-step, completely oblivious to his presence.
He continued to watch amazed as she did a ball change, and then glided to the side and rose on the balls of her feet, lifting her heels off the floor. She then pivoted her toes to the right, her heels twisting gently to the left side. Her eyes were still closed and her smile was wider he saw, now that she was actually facing him.
That was when Sherlock decided to fall in step with her, his eye and body coordination flawless he copied her moves, step for step. They would have carried on so, but Molly suddenly decided to do a freestyle move and ended up mirroring Sherlock in a perfect waltz starting position instead. She opened her eyes, startled at seeing him there. Sherock just smiled back and, not missing a beat, took her by the waist and expertly led her around the room in a waltz. She continued to smile as Sherlock twirled her, and laughed whenever he led her into a dip or the pretzel. The song concluded with them in the waltz starting position again, giggling like children.
"Hi," Sherlock said.
"Hello, Sherlock," Molly greeted back. "You snuck up on me,"
Sherlock put his arms around Molly's waist and drew her closer, leaning their foreheads together. "Not good?"
Molly lowered her eyes. After a moment, she looked up at him again, her cheeks red. "I don't mind. Thanks for the dance,"
Sherlock shook his head. "Pleasure was all mine. I didn't know you could dance like that. Why didn't you dance like that at John's wedding?"
Molly shrugged, her arms now around the detective's shoulders. "Tom had two left feet,"
The two giggled a bit more, then grew silent, both feeling somewhat (but not really) terrible about insulting someone who wasn't present.
Molly lowered her hands so they were now on Sherlock's upper arms. She gave him a big smile. "So, what do you need?"
Sherlock thought about the ear he wanted for an experiment, the true cause of his very early morning trip to Bart's, but as he took in Molly's face beautifully flushed from exertion, he shrugged and said, "Nothing. I'm starving though. Just finished a case. Would you like to get some breakfast?"
Molly smiled again. "That'll be lovely. Lead the way,"
Sherlock put his arm around Molly's shoulders and he couldn't help but grin when he felt her slender arm find its place around his middle. As they neared the door of the hospital, Sherlock snapped his fingers to signal that one of the many guards he had Mycroft post should lock up the morgue. He then looked to his side and decided that this, having Molly by his side, is not at all a bad thing.