"I got your experiment out of freezer. You need to stop keeping things in there. I'm not always the one that cleans it." Molly looked back down at some paper work she'd brought out and began filling it out as Sherlock simply sighed, sitting on a stool against a far wall, eyes closed Probably in his Mind Palace. She had to admit, she was a bit annoyed, too. It was definitely an inconvenience to wheel a body back out and Greg and John were no where to found yet.

The paperwork made the time go faster. Though she'd prefer to do it in her office rather than standing at table in the morgue, next to a dead body, she really didn't want to go too far from Sherlock… especially since he was annoyed. Absentmindedly, she stopped to take the ponytail out of her hair, she had pulled her hair back too tightly at lunch and was getting a headache.

"My scarf."

"What?" She nearly jumped, her mind was deep into her work.

"You're wearing my scarf."

"oh, yeah."She glanced down and realized she was still wearing the dark blue and black striped scarf. "I threw it on when I went into the freezer."

"You have your own."

"Yes, b-"

"So, why are you wearing mine?"

"Because mine is clear up in the locker room and I was just popping into the freezer. Not to mention, it was for your experiment."

"Why are you still wearing it?"

"Just haven't taken it off yet."

"Why not?"

"Maybe I'm still a bit chilly. Honestly, Sherlock, why are you so upset?"

"Because its my scarf."

"So, I'm going to give it back."

"Ok." He stood up and walked over, hand out. Annoyed, Molly refused and back away. "Give it back."

"Why are you being like this?"

"Because its my scarf." Molly actually couldn't help but giggle. He was staring at her, genuinely confused, hand still open, ready for the long stretch of fabric that was currently wrapped around her neck, exactly as he wore it, too. She felt a bit like a teenager, but honestly couldn't resist the urge to press this random button he revealed he had.

"You're serious."

"Why wouldn't I be?"

"You're over reacting a bit, don't you think?"

"I just want my scarf back."

"Alright, fine." Deciding she'd press the button. "Than, come get it and I'll give it back." As he began to approach her, she walked away from him. They circled the table nearly twice and it was hard to keep a straight face as Sherlocks face appeared more and more annoyed.

"What are you doing?" He stopped, tilting his head to the side, frustration and a little bit of confusion obvious in his voice.

"I'm not doing anything."

"Just give me my scarf back, Molly." He sighed, reaching over the body.

"Come get it." She smiled coyly and walked to the door.

"I'm not in the mood for this kind of game, Molly."

"I don't know what your talking about." Her hand fondling the door handle, she made eye contact with the tall, lean, consulting detective as he approached her.

"Stop being silly."

"Just come get it,Sherlock."

"Fine, keep being childish, see if it bothers me." He walked over to the stool he had been sitting on earlier and returned to his former pose.

"Fine. I quite like it. Warmer than my pink one. Needed a new one anyway." The clap of her hands on her thighs echoed in the room.

"You can't keep it!" He hopped back onto his feet with a thud, a look of defiance on his face.

"Why not?"

"Because its my scarf!"

"You borrow plenty from me, Sherlock Holmes, and I don't fret half as much as you are over this scarf. And you have several of these!"

"I'm not-."

"Yes, you are. Now, if you want it so bad, come get it." Did he almost smile? Oh, she was sure of it and decided to push the game into over drive. It was late at night. The hall would be dark, but it was long and with her hand on the doorknob again,she debated. It was very unprofessional, but she felt absolutely giddy and was sure he would chase her and enjoy it. "Come on." She beckoned. "Come get your scarf." Bolting out of the room, pure joy flushed through her as she heard the door being pushed back open and a beautiful baritone cry her name in exasperation. A hooting sound flew from her lips as she felt large, warm hands grasp her waist and two raucous laughs shook the hall as they fell. He had pulled her on top of him, her back against his chest and stomach and Sherlock began to pull at the scarf. "You're going to strangle me!"

"Well, hold still! I'm working one handed and can't find your neck in the dark through your hair and squirming!" In revolt, she leaned back and smashed her lips against his for a long second. All his extremities froze long enough for Molly to get away, tossing a teasing grin and giggle back at her playmate. He swore loudly and continued the chase, tackling her once again in the same fashion, farther down the corridor where some light was shining through an entrance from the street lamps. Fumbling a bit in the shadows, he pulled his scarf towards him and, once she was close enough, she kissed him again as he slide the scarf off of her.

She pulled away long enough to adjusted her body; straddling him, and gently took the scarf back. Sherlock was frequently intense in some fashion, but she had never experienced such focused eye contact as she replaced his scarf around his neck. Her new tool pulled him up to a sitting position and his lips back to hers. Molly wasn't always sure about Sherlock, but she knew she heard him moan and was fairly certain he was melting, too, under the heat of the deep lip lock they were sharing. Neither of them heard the door open, in fact, Molly wouldn't have stopped if she hadn't felt Sherlock jump at the sound and the flash that came from the mobile phone camera app of a certain D.I..