Author's Note: Hello. Nice to meet you. This is a first attempt Sherlolly to be developed. It is my first time writing such things so please feel free to review!
Molly had just finished cleaning up after the autopsy when she paused to take a break. It was near 3 am and she still had a long list of reports to write. She glanced down at the case file.
BOMB EXPLOSION – 15 DEAD
Of course, what it didn't say was that all of the 15 bodies found, none had died from the actual blast. So far she had 3 heart failures, 2 asphyxiations, and 2 head trauma from a blunt instrument. Leaving 8 bodies left to cut open, and an even longer work day ahead of her.
She didn't mind these long work days. In fact, she rather enjoyed them. When she was piled on with work, it didn't leave any spare moment for her to dwell on anything else. On him. No. She was a scientist and when she worked she worked with all of her mind and concentration. It was almost freeing to be so exhausted by the end of the day, or, in this case, the lack of an end of the day.
But now she had a free moment to think. Think of her crush and how foolish and hopeless it was. Still, she could see him in her mind. He was all angles and sharp edges, both in features and personality. Sherlock Holmes, the man who could deduce your life from the palm of your hand and see everyone and everything.
Except himself, She thought, then quickly quieted her inner narrative. She had to stop this fascination with him before it hurt her even more than it already had.
As if on cue, the very object of her fantasies barged in the lab at that exact moment. He hit the door with such force that it banged the wall behind it as he frustratedly took off his scarf and coat.
"These fools," He muttered in his baritone voice that sent thrills through her. "They wait this long to bring me in. I could have had this case solved if they weren't such overconfident idiots."
He only then seemed to recognize Molly, only she knew he had taken in the whole room and her within a second of entering. He never missed anything. "I will need a cup of coffee, Molly. Black, two sugars, and those case files you have completed." He sat down in his usual char by the microscope with an open and expectant hand.
Molly handed him the ones she had finished while she glanced at the door, waiting for Dr. John Watson to follow Sherlock in. They hadn't been seen apart in so long that whole building was whispering about just how deep their friendship went. Molly wished she could disarm these rumors, but, then again, she didn't know if she was deluding herself.
Still John didn't come in. "Where is John?" she asked, risking interrupting Sherlock's musings.
"At his sister's. Apparently, she's drinking again." He stated the fact emotionlessly.
"Oh dear, he said that she was doing better. We were all hop-"
"Molly." Sherlock interrupted. Annoyance clear in his voice. "Small talk is not your forte. You would be much better help finishing those autopsies."
"Right." Molly said quietly to herself.
They lapsed into a comfortable and professional silence. Each doing their own work and Sherlock occasionally demanding something that Molly had to get for him. Molly was reminded of what it used to be like before John came. Sherlock would spend hours, even days in the lab with her. Experimenting on cadavers or solving some case that he never bothered to explain to her. But there was always a sadness, isolated look in him. John seemed to be helping Sherlock become more…human.
However beneficial to work, the silence did bring an embarrassment for Molly when her stomach would emit the sort of low, loud, unlady-like growl of hunger. After the third rumble Shelock looked up at her.
"You haven't eaten," he paused for a second, thinking. "Lunch, yesterday."
Molly didn't bother confirming his statement. He knew he was right. Instead she waited for whatever came next. He looked at her in silence. Then with a confused look, went back to his files. Awkward and a little worried, Molly faced the man on the metal table again. Once again, her stomach complained loudly.
"If you can not remain silent, you will have to go eat something." Came the directions from Sherlock across the room.
"I…I'm sorry," Molly mumbled followed by yet another growl.
Sherlock sighed. "If you are not going to silence your stomach then I will. Get your coat, we are going out."