Disclaimer: I own nothing.

AN: Hey all! I've got a new story for you guys. It's post-Reichenbach, everything's sorted and back to normal. This fic involves Sherlock/Molly but has a little of Molly/OC. I think Molly deserves some good guys, especially after Moriarty, so this is what I came up with. I know there are a couple of stories that pairs Molly with characters from other shows, I have to admit that this is one of them and if this somehow is too similar to those stories then a thousand apologies. I did try to see if they feature the character that I utilized in this part of the story and I haven't seen one. The male character here should be familiar to some, but I don't want to spoil the surprise (but the hint is right in the chapter title). Thanks for indulging this note, and thank you for reading.

Law and Order: Hooper/Holmes

"For the sake of law and order I suggest you avoid all future attempts at a relationship, Molly."

Chapter One

Her days were made of Steele

The simple fact was he wasn't paying attention. That's correct. The great Sherlock Holmes, the world's only consulting detective, failed to notice the changes in one Dr. Molly Hooper. The moment that he finally deduced that something was afoot, well it was a tad late.

It began, innocuously enough, with her absence.

Sherlock Holmes and John Watson were at St. Bart's. This was not entirely unusual for the two were more often than not using the hospital as their private lab to further their investigations. But this time their visit was sanctioned by Scotland Yard. It was under Detective Inspector Lestrade's request that they view a body of recent murder victim; whoever was at the morgue will be compelled to comply with his demands by the sheer legitimacy of their mission. Still, Molly's presence was very much preferable. She knew how he worked and knew how to work with him and John. So the discovery of her absence was quite unwelcome.

Her entire schedule was etched on his brain. Knowledge of her comings and goings made his visits to the morgue a great deal easier. Sherlock preferred dealing with her blushing and stuttering to the protestations of other staff that he was not welcome to the facilities without the right paperwork. Although to be fair, Molly had slowly but surely stopped blushing and stuttering around him after the entire Reichenbach affair. After unwaveringly offering her assistance, Sherlock realized that he had another name to add to his lonely list of friends, Molly Hooper.

Thus their relationship has transformed into a more equitable partnership. He no longer felt the need to compliment her insincerely just to get his way and she no longer felt used and abused by him. All in all, a far superior arrangement.

To find her missing from her post, well Sherlock did not like it one bit.

John looked around the lab before he folded his arms across his chest. "Lunch, you reckon?"

Sherlock shot him a distasteful look before he eyes his friend's watch meaningfully. It was already two in the afternoon. Molly liked to keep to her schedule, very rarely does she delineate from it and she was not one to take a long lunch. John shrugged but Sherlock was no longer paying him any mind as he got his mobile out and started texting the missing pathologist.

At St. Bart's. You are not.

SH

He tapped the screen of his phone with his fingertip while he waited for the reply. Molly was incredibly vigilant about answering his texts instantly. When she failed to respond he tried again.

Have to see to a body. Require your assistance.

SH

He waited a beat. Sherlock huffed in annoyance at the lack of answer. He could feel John looking at him with silent mirth and he did not like it.

"Maybe she's ignoring you." John said with a small smile playing on his lips.

Sherlock raised a brow at the suggestion. John was just guessing as he had no evidence to make such an assumption. Sherlock was quite certain that he had done nothing that would push Molly into disregarding his existence. If he had made an unfortunate slight, well he had John to tell him that he ought to apologize, since his flat mate had yet to suggest that he do just that meant he nothing to apologize for.

His patience wearing thin, he simply decided that a call had to be made. He so disliked making calls. The only response he got was an automated voice telling him that the owner of the mobile could not be reached at this time.

With an indignant air, Sherlock swept out of the lab and made his way to what he knew was Molly's office. As he entered the tiny room, his mind took in everything. The space was barely adequate to be of any use to him, precisely why he never had any reason to step inside, until now. It was very evident that this was Dr. Molly Hooper's office; the diploma hanging on the wall was enough of a clue to anyone who was looking and also a poster of a kitten hanging onto a branch with the words 'hang in there,' Molly and her inexplicable fondness for felines.

A narrow desk was placed against the wall and behind it was a sleek black ergonomic chair, something that the hospital seemed to have spent a great deal of money on, as the lamp in the corner of the room and the desk itself looked like they were merely bought from some cheap furniture store. He marched towards the desk and saw Molly's personality radiating from the small table. It had a laptop; closed to keep anyone from looking through whatever files she had on there, probably not a challenge to him though, her password could easily be deduced, a paper weight of a cat which look remarkably like Toby; predictable, a pink daily planner; quite old fashioned since nowadays people can simply make use of their mobiles, a picture frame of two elderly couple, obviously her parents their physical attributes had found their way in Molly's appearance; sentiment, and a transparent glass vase containing a single daisy; yet another sign of sentiment. Sherlock could vaguely recall Molly telling him that it was her favorite flower for some reason or another; he had better things to remember. A pile of paperwork was on the corner of the table, paperwork that had gone undone whilst Molly was on some mysterious adventure. And finally an abandoned cup of tea.

Sherlock focused on the planner. Clearly, Molly made the effort to purchase the thing, bring it with her to work so it is obvious that she would painstakingly take the time to write down her appointments. He flipped through the pages until he reach the correct date. He frowned slightly as something caught his eye. He proceeded to turn to pages of days past and his eyes narrowed with mild displeasure. His glance landed on the flower and then back on the planner.

"Sherlock," John's exasperation was evident in his tone. Sherlock had the inclination that said exasperation was directed AT HIM and not towards a certain pathologist, who was still conspicuously absent. "What are you doing?"

He rolled his eyes at the stupid question. What he was doing was incredibly clear; why John insists on even posing the question was exceedingly irritating.

"Molly won't appreciate that." John nodded towards what he was doing.

He scoffed at that. He was not remotely interested in what Molly was going to feel once she discovered that he had been through her things. As she was not present, she only had herself to blame.

He heard John sigh and saw him eye his watch. "So where does that say she is?"

"Out." Sherlock answered curtly.

"That's all you gathered?" John asked unimpressed as he too made his way to the desk and took Molly's planner from Sherlock's inspection. He looked through them and seemed to arrive at the same conclusion as he did as he closed it and placed it back where Sherlock found it.

Sherlock glared at him flat mate imperiously at the slight, he had every intention of informing John on everything that he missed from his own perusal of Molly's calendar. "It would appear that Molly Hooper has got herself a beau."


Once John had gotten over his pronouncement, he went to work. He walked back to the morgue, searched for the body they required and made John look for the file that accompanied it. He read the file and then proceeded to examine the body with great diligence. Typically, Molly would tell him all she could about a body and he proceeded to tell her all that she missed. Of course they could not do that when she was still absent.

Just as they were putting everything back in its place in the lab (John's idea not his, Molly could clean up after them, just as she would have done had she been there all along), she finally made an appearance. He made a point of not looking at her as he fiddled with his mobile, sending Lestrade information on the case from what he just gathered from the body.

Molly Hooper waltzed into the morgue without a care in the world. She was holding a cup of coffee from the ridiculous café that Sherlock refused to patronize. She was wearing a relatively boring jumper, as opposed to the more colorful ones she used to don; it was a rather specific color of blue, pale with a bit more depth to it, a present perhaps from her suitor. No it did not seem like a present for her, she purchased it herself, but she did so because it reminded her of the mysterious man. Her hair was down, his choice or her choice? Probably his, Molly liked to keep her hair out of the way whenever she was working. Her coiffure looked like it was hastily put into order, was that the reason for her absence, an afternoon rendezvous? Her lips, clearly she applied lipstick but it had faded, obviously the work of her amorous lover, her mouth was definitely not small now. Her cheeks were rosy, but not because she was blushing, nor was it artificial. Overall, Molly Hooper looked…more. Sherlock could not put his finger on it precisely. He felt a tad unsettled by it all.

Early on his acquaintance with Molly, he conducted an experiment. It was a few months into their introduction and Sherlock had not had a case for weeks. So he spent most of his time at St. Bart's, conducting experiments. Molly was still very compliant with all his wishes, despite the fact that he began making demands that were beyond the pale, even by his own standards. And so he decided to test Molly. In his experience, people had a limit to actions that they were willing to condone. Most of them lasted no more than a day with him. Molly, it seemed, had an unusually high tolerance. In the interest of cultivating the incredible resource that is Dr. Hooper, Sherlock spent a week provoking various emotional responses from the young woman. The decision to do so came not only from utter boredom but also in preparation for any future encounters with the pathologist. It was all for the best, being prepared for any and all emotional outbursts from Dr. Hooper would enable him to react appropriately; it was all to retain his access to the lab and the morgue.

He saw her display shyness, whenever he stood too close to her; she also turned red at his close proximity or if he touched any part of her body. It took a while for him to see her become annoyed or angry; he had to be completely disagreeable towards her. Compliments were enough to soothe any ill feelings she had towards him afterwards, she would smile at him and everything was forgotten. Sherlock saw her comport herself with such professionalism when they were in the company of others, it seemed that he was the only one who could render her into such a bumbling girl, which oddly enough made him feel a little too pleased with himself. Perhaps his most favored side of Molly Hooper was when she was all alone and about to conduct an autopsy. The focused expression on her face, the confident stance she took and the steadiness of her hands as she handled a scalpel and the various instruments she required to perform her duties, it was a source of fascination for him, seeing the mousy woman who stuttered over her words when speaking to him transform into such an impeccable pathologist.

The expression on her face now, it was simply foreign to him. And the knowledge that he missed something about her was disconcerting to say the least.

She stopped in her tracks when she saw him and then John.

Sherlock looked up from his mobile and raised a brow. "You weren't here. We're on a case; time is of the essence-"

John snorted.

He glared at his friend for the interruption. Time was of the essence. There was no justifiable reason for Watson to snort at such an inopportune moment, clearly John wished to convey something, either to him or to Molly. "I've sent you a text that you are needed here."

"Sorry, I've turned it off." Molly replied with sincerity that Sherlock could never imitate. She dug through her purse in search of her phone and he could not help but feel impatient. When her hand retracted from her bag she extracted a different mobile from what he knew was hers. "Oh." Her eyes flitted over to his and then at John.

Before Sherlock could muster any response, the doors to the lab opened with a deep voice saying Molly.

Ah, the mystery man. His eyes took in the stranger who was the source of Molly's preoccupation. Tall, about as tall as he was. Suit was tailored and expensive, his brow rose at that. Shoes were polished, also expensive. Blonde, very blond. Face was lined with wrinkles, should look old but was distinguished instead. And oh yes, older late forties perhaps, a bit of a surprising choice for Molly.

And Molly, she was looking quite normal during their brief exchange but the moment that the other man came into the room it was as though a light from within her was switched on. She once again looked…more than she typically looked.

In the man's outstretched hand was Molly's mobile. Sherlock's eyes narrowed at the implication. He watched as Molly closed the distance between her and the man. The two exchanged phones and whispered words. Molly then hooked her arm through his and beamed at him, positively beamed. "Thank you." Her voice was sweet as she looked up at him. Sherlock rolled his eyes.

John cleared his throat to remind the other two occupants of their presence, Sherlock shot him a curious look, and his friend simply remained quiet, resolutely avoiding his gaze.

Molly looked like she was startled from a pleasant dream. "Oh, I'm sorry. Sherlock, John, I'd like you to meet James Steele-"

"Your boyfriend." Sherlock finished for her.

Her eyes widened considerably. "Well, yes." She exchanged looks with James and John. And then she smiled as though pleased by what just occurred. "Of course you know. You always know."

John coughed a word that Sherlock easily recognized, 'cheater,' he gave the other man a sharp glance and then focused back on Molly and James.

James Steele held out his hand to John who shook it without hesitation. "Pleasure to meet you." When he turned to him, Sherlock simply ignored the hand being offered and assessed the man before him. Instead of taking offense, the man simply smiled and nodded, as though giving him permission.

"I've heard your deductive skills are legendary, have at it then." James smiled at him pleasantly.

His eyes narrowed. This was unusual. People tend to dislike being the object of his deduction and yet this man, Molly Hooper's boyfriend, was actually inviting him to dissect his entire person. Two of the other three occupants of the room were looking at him expectantly; Molly did not look the least bit uncomfortable, which meant that she had already warned James Steele about what John says were his rude tendencies. John was looking at him warningly, as though quietly telling him to behave himself, Sherlock decided to ignore him. He set aside his earlier observations and proceeded to prod even further.

His mind took in all the information and with a deep breath; Sherlock did proceed to 'have at it.' "The bridge of your nose have indentations, indicating usage of glasses, however as you are not wearing them now suggests a bit of vanity. You have a single strand of hair stuck just on the topmost part of your left ear; it is not the same color of your blonde head, which points to the fact that you recently wore a wig. You are wearing an expensive suit, clearly tailored and since you felt the need to switch mobiles with Molly then clearly your occupation is a demanding one and probably quite lucrative. You obviously take pains in your appearance, but you missed a spot on your collar, a black lint from another garment, may be a coat but you are wearing a gray one so that's not it. If you indeed wore a wig then it is probable that you were wearing a robe that is customary to your profession as a barrister." He finished triumphantly.

John rolled his eyes and Molly patted James arm in what Sherlock could only describe as sympathy, why she would feel the need to do so was beyond him.

The man in question was touching the bridge of his nose a little self-consciously. "I admit that was brilliant. And I am a bit vain about wearing my glasses; I usually just wear them whenever I am alone." He smiled down at Molly and touched the pathologist's cheek with clear affection. Then he seemed to become conscious of the fact that the two of them were not the only one in the room and looked rather sheepish. "I must be going." He said after he glanced at his watch. He kissed Molly on the cheek, whispered something that Sherlock was unable to hear and as James' head was turned he was unable to read his lips and then the man turned towards them, nodded at him and John. "It was nice to meet the both of you."

The three of them watched as James Steele left.

John straightened his shoulders and looked at him expectantly. Sherlock ignored him and focused his attention on Molly.

"Shall we get going then?" John burst out loudly that Molly looked at him with a bit of confusion mixed with amusement.

Sherlock ignored him. "Molly, I seem to recall a conversation concerning you and your attempts at romantic relationships." He eyed her with mild disinterest as he said the words.

Her chin stuck out in what was clearly a defiant manner. "I seem to recall you telling me to avoid all future attempts at a relationship."

He nodded imperceptibly. "And you thought it wise to disregard my advice."

"Sherlock!" John hissed.

"One would think that after your last foray in romance you would be less willing to endeavor entering yet another-"

"One would be wrong." Molly interjected.

His brow rose at the interruption but he continued nonetheless. "After all you did nab a raving psychopath." He finished sardonically.

"As opposed to being infatuated with a self-proclaimed sociopath." Molly delivered the words with a slight smile.

John was no longer looking mortified, apparently quite confident in Molly's ability to defend her romantic notions. In fact, Sherlock could see his lips curling upward a bit. Amused then. He turned back to Molly and saw that she too was displaying a level of amusement that was simply incomprehensible to him. He was not wrong in his statement. While he had grown accustomed to a no longer stuttering Molly Hooper, there were moments, when he wished she would stop being quite assertive at the most inconvenient times. He was merely telling her about her past folly and that this James Steele could very well be a dubious character.

He decided to ignore Molly's reference to him being the object of her affection, clearly that was no longer the case as she had chosen to associate with James Steele romantically. "James Steele is an unknown quantity, therefore subject to suspicion until proven innocent."

Sherlock watched as Molly sighed. "Sherlock, to you he may be an unknown quantity. But to me, well he is my boyfriend. I am getting to know him. That's what dating is all about." She looked like she was trying to be patient and he couldn't help but feel that it was he who was displaying such patience towards her.

He rolled his eyes. This continued insistence of dating, John liked dating and now Molly, such a waste of time and energy on an activity that never seem to deliver their desired results. Molly's previous experience with Moriarty ought to have quelled her desire for dating. And yet…so inexplicable. "Had you bothered treating Jim with even the mildest suspicion, I would not be here questioning your choice of paramour." He concluded matter-of-factly.

Molly's brows rose and an indignant expression crossed her face. "Well Sherlock, despite Jim," She said the name with such distaste. "I decided not to operate under the assumption that any man who expresses any interest in me does so in order to get close to you."

John cleared his throat, and glared at him, clearly silently telling him to shut up, well he would not be told what to do.

His flat mate went ignored. "Perhaps you should. What exactly do you know about this James Steele?" Sherlock demanded.

"I know enough." Molly replied shortly. "And while I may not know everything there is to know about him, I will learn them as my relationship with him continues."

Sherlock scoffed.

"I believe Lestrade is waiting for us Sherlock." John spoke up, loudly.

He spared a glance at John before looking once more at Molly. "Molly, I am merely pointing out the folly of your decision to engage in a romantic dalliance with a virtual stranger."

"And I am telling you that the entire point of dating is to transform a virtual stranger into someone a person could love." Molly countered.

Again with the sentiment. Molly ought to know by now that such argument was simply irrelevant to him.

"Besides, I am not a complete idiot, Sherlock. I too have no intention of getting involved with another Jim." She said with such force. "I asked Greg to look into James' background."

'Greg?' His brows furrowed.

"Lestrade." John correctly interpreted his expression.

Sherlock shook his head in disapproval. "You've asked Lestrade?"

Molly nodded. "And he said that James is a good man."

Sherlock scoffed again. Lestrade was not the pinnacle of good judgment, why would she put such faith in him?

"Sherlock, if you think about it, I am actually sort of taking your advice." Molly met his gaze head on and continued speaking when he raised his brow to ask in what way was she taking his advice. "You told me, for the sake of law and order to avoid all future attempts at a relationship. Obviously I can't avoid relationships and I don't want to. But you did give me the idea to pursue them with men who belong to the profession of law and order. James used to be a crown prosecutor." She beamed at him.

He looked down at her. What a preposterous idea. Following his advice? He expressly told her not to pursue any relationship; she twisted his words in order to fulfill her own notions.

Molly of the now was clearly not going to be dissuaded from pursuing romance with James Steele, while Molly of the past would have been easier to convince, clearly that Molly was gone and in her place was a Molly who seemed to be quite passionate about James Steele. Sherlock had quite enough of Molly Hopper and her romantic inclinations. He nodded in her direction and turned towards the door. "Come along, John. Lestrade will meet us at the crime scene."

He marched out of the lab without waiting for John. His friend was too busy saying goodbye to Molly. Sherlock refocused on the case they were on. His study of the body gave him all the answers he required. A visit to the crime scene would merely confirm his deductions and then he would be free to focus all his attentions on his next case, one that was infinitely more interesting.


Sherlock was busy going over everything about the case but John's persistent staring was distracting him. "Do stop, John." John was sitting next to him in the cab. His flat mate clearly had something to say but Sherlock simply had no patience for inane chatter.

"That was rude of you, leaving Molly like that." John remarked.

He looked out the window and ignored John.

"So was questioning her judgment. James seems like a nice enough bloke. "

'Nice.' Sherlock thought nastily. How utterly pedestrian. And John's well-intentioned adjective describing the man was definitely not appreciated. Nice, if that was how Molly picked her choice of romantic partners, well her taste in men was deteriorating, and she picked Moriarty.

"She looked happy."

He turned and finally looked at John only to glare at him. "Happy, what are you on about?" He demanded.

John raised a brow at the question. "Happy, Sherlock, Molly looks like she is quite happy."

"Did she?" He muttered under his breath. Was that the foreign emotion that he spotted in the pathologist? The one emotion he could not pinpoint until John declared it as happiness. Had he never seen Molly Hooper happy in all the years that they've known each other? The realization caused tightness in his chest that he did not appreciate. He buried the feeling and the knowledge deep within the recesses of his mind palace with no intention of ever revisiting it.

"Don't you think so?" John was looking at him with fierce concentration, why he felt the need to do so was simply puzzling.

He shrugged and went back to staring out the window.

John cleared his throat. "Now Sherlock, I know how you're going to be,"

Sherlock frowned slightly but refused to look at his friend. From the periphery he saw John shake his head. He rolled his eyes.

"Just, just don't ruin this for Molly."

He finally turned his head to look at John. He struggled to maintain an air of impassivity. But John's words made his blood boil. "I need not bother ruining anything for Molly; she is completely capable of doing that all on her own."

John winced. "See, this is exactly what I am talking about." His flat mate shook his head. "You act like you're beyond any emotion, but this," John gestured to his entire person. "Well you're not and you're acting, well you are being-"

He sighed heavily as he interjected. "John, do try to be articulate when you speak."

"A tosser!" John concluded with a fierce scowl on his face. "You're my friend Sherlock, my best mate. But Molly is my friend too." John seemed to lose his steam. "And I don't want your jealousy getting in the way of her relationship."

Sherlock scoffed when John said the word jealousy. What utter nonsense! He was not jealous. If it appeared that he was showing more interest in Molly's relationship with James Steele than he would typically give to any colleague who happened to be involved romantically, well it was simply because Molly knew how to pick men, and she exemplified it by showing how she didn't. "I am not jealous." He spat out with such distaste, he was above such sentiment.

John chuckled. "You are." His friend studied him and then nodded. "Definitely jealous."

"Don't be ridiculous, John." He replied with such condescension. It was quite irritating, what John was doing. He found it completely obnoxious, that John thought he could assign whatever emotion that he was feeling.

John nodded again. "You're so used to Molly swooning over you and not another man."

"I found her attentions rather bothersome in fact. And pay attention, John. Molly stopped being susceptible to my…attentions, feigned or otherwise, for quite a while now."

John actually laughed at his words. Before Sherlock could question him on the source of his mirth the cabbie stopped and his friend got out without another word, his laughter cut short once the door shut, leaving Sherlock alone and the cabbie unpaid.

TBC