Hey so this is just an idea I had, seriously loved the little Sherlock/Molly scenes! soo cute! hehe.

Not sure how this worked out, its the first Sherlock FF I've done.

Hope you enjoy it :-)

Disclaimer: I do not own Sherlock

He could feel her watching him, lingering. She always did it when he came to the morgue; it was probably that infatuation she had with him. Hanging onto his every word, watching his every move, she thought he didn't notice; but he did. He wished she'd just spit it out either that or go away and leave him to work. He heard her take a breath, here goes.

"You're a bit like my dad." She had turned to face him, but he didn't look up, he had no idea where she was going with this. She paused. "He's dead… no sorry... "He sighed inwardly; he didn't understand why she was telling him this. But the sample under the microscope was getting harder to concentrate and he really didn't need another awkward conversation.

"Molly, please don't feel the need to make conversation, it's really not your area." Cold. That's how he sounded, it was harsher than he intends, but that was him. Heartless and to the point. He expected her to stammer an apology and scuttle away, waiting for it he realised. But it didn't come, instead she carried on.

"When he was dying he was always cheerful, he was lovely…Except when he thought no one could see." She paused; he could feel her eyes burning into him. The sample now a million miles away she had his attention. She had surprised him, he couldn't see where she was going with this or why she was telling him; but she had his attention.

"I saw him once." She breathed in, trying to keep her voice steady. She was emotional, anyone could see that. He didn't like this, for all that she may irritate him with her loitering he would never want to see her sad. No, Sherlock, despite appearances, was not that cruel.

"He looked sad…"

"Molly..." he interrupted, monotone, no emotion.

"You look sad. When you think he can't see you." She indicated to the other room where john stood. Sherlock looked up. Molly Hooper was clever, he had always known that, but this was more; she hadn't just seen him; shed noticed. He looked up from the microscope and stared at her. Ice blue met brown.

"Are you okay?" she stammered slightly, "and don't just say you are... because I know what that means... looking sad when you think no one can see you." He took in her words pausing slightly before he replied. She didn't look away from him once, she wasn't intimidated or scared, she just kept looking at him, concern imbedded deep into her soft features.

"You can see me." It sounded like a taunt. She shook her head slightly.

"I don't count." She responded immediately, no doubt in what she was saying. A sad smile drifted across her face. She looked down.

It was these words that had the effect on him, those three words. They made him feel, he could see it in her eyes the sadness, the loneliness. He saw her view of herself. It was low, she thought she was nothing, she thought she didn't count. He looked at her as thought seeing her truly for the first time. He turned his head slightly to face her. Molly Hooper. She didn't know, didn't know how important she truly was, and part of that was his fault. More than part, if he was being truthful. She didn't see herself as valuable, yet she was so valuable to him. Maybe not in the way she wanted but never just in the way she thought. She had never been just a way to get lab clearance, although that did help him, she was his friend. And Sherlock Holmes didn't have friends. She listened to him and talked, just about normal things, normal things that happened to normal people. He sometimes thought those conversations kept him human, and for that he would always be grateful.

"What I'm trying to say is, if there's anything," She looked up. "Anything I can do, anything you need, anything at all... you can have me." She paused, closed her eyes for a second and turned to look at the wall, "No... I just mean," she paused embarrassed and uncomfortable, but determined to get her tell him, so he let her finish. She inhaled. "I mean, if there's anything you need." She paused again, struggling to speak, but she tried and he admired her for it, she turned to the wall. "It's fine."

He looked at the opposite wall, he couldn't think of what to say... what could he say? This was awkward, something Sherlock did not normally register, and this was new territory for him.

"W…what could I need from you?" he stammered, he turned to stare at her, she shrugged.

"Nothing...dunno." she spoke quietly she started to walk away, "I'm just..."

"Well maybe I..." he didn't know what to say. He didn't want her to go.

"I know you don't." she didn't give him chance, she turned and walked away. Taking control. Molly Hooper.

Sherlock Holmes was no good with emotions that was just proved. Again. He was….shocked; he knew little of Molly's personal life, never asked. He hadn't realised how much she saw either. He had always known there was something special about her, in some ways a bit like himself, they both cared for their friends, were fiercely protective if need be. But Sherlock never showed this, never allowed himself to appear vulnerable, he pushed people away with his words and his tone, and only know looking at Molly could her truly see what he had done. To her.

Molly was different to him, she didn't mind being vulnerable, she didn't mind caring. She was sweet and loyal. She was clever, not as much as Sherlock but still, very clever; yet she didn't show off. She was humble. It was her humbleness that made him feel worse, she viewed herself so lowly.

The computer bleeped behind him, his results were ready. Sherlock shook his head and turned to face the door she left out off. He would speak to her later.

there we go, hope you enjoyed it.

Reviews are appreciated and maybe if people like it I might do the later scene in the lab.

Rach x