Molly's POV

Molly fiddled with the bobby pins securing the front of her hair as she strode down the hall ways of St. Bart's. She'd only been there three hours and it already felt like forever.

'Only 9 hours to go', she told herself as she entered her lab. It was a slow day at the morgue, which means Molly had plenty of paper work to get done before the day was out. It had been two weeks since Moriarty appeared on her television screen at work. She cringed at the memory of, "did you miss me?". It had also been two weeks since he had seen Sherlock and John. She was beginning to think she would never see them again after those hearty slaps she whipped across his face. She didn't regret it though. Truth be told, she still loved the man deeply, but he was never going to make her into a doe eyed, servant girl ever again.

Molly drained her second cup of coffee and was about to pull herself from her paper work when she heard the doors to the lab being pushed open. There stood Sherlock, beautiful as ever. Scarf tied neatly with the collar of his coat turned up. Trailing behind him with a sweet smile on his face was John Watson. Thinking better than to greet them too kindly (not because of poor John, of course) she looked over at them with a quick smile then returned her eyes to her desk.

"Molly, could you be a dear and fetch me a fresh corpse. I'm bored, need to experiment," he flashed a smile that seemed genuine enough. Molly considered giving into his devilish charms but felt a twinge of anger in her chest.

"Actually, Sherlock, I'm quite busy. I do have a job to do, you know. I didn't go to medical school just so I could spend my life doing favors for you. You can just wait until I am finished here before you get your hands on any bodies," she stated, a smile never breaking on her face. He looked positively stunned. "Oh! And while your waiting," she handed him her mug, "could you pop by the canteen and get me some more coffee. That would be tremendous."

He stared at her then back down at the mug. He looked as if he was contemplating doing her the favor but turned on his heel with John in tow. As soon as she was sure he was gone, Molly grinned widely. 'Good going, Molly old girl' she thought to herself. Her smile dropped once again as she looked down and remembered that she actually did have work to do.

Sherlock's POV

'What an odd day', Sherlock thought to himself as he walked side by side with John, mug in hand. 'Really? What is her deal today? I certainly haven't done anything to offend her lately...or have I? She could still angry about the drug thing...no, no that isn't it' his train of thought was interrupted by the short man beside him clutching his arm.

"Sherlock, get out of your head, you almost passed up the canteen."

"Oh...right."

"What do you suppose is up with Molly? She is acting rather strangely today."

"I assure you, John, I haven't the faintest idea."

As they walked together toward the lab, John's phone began to ring, he handed the mug back to Sherlock and told him to go ahead in, that he would join them in a minute. 'Mary', Sherlock thought to himself. He then whisked on toward the lab without John.

Molly's POV

She really could get so much done without Sherlock and John running about, but she had to admit she missed the company of the two men when they weren't around. Sherlock, picking at things just to get John all riled up, and John spitting insults toward him in return. Oh, how they made her laugh sometimes. But, with them gone to get her coffee, she got almost half her work load done in the silence.

"Your coffee," said a low voice behind her, she stiffened but suddenly relaxed, recognizing the voice right away, "Dr. Hooper".

She turned to meet his gaze. His usually sharp eyes seemed to have softened somehow since the last time she'd seen him, She pushed her thought process away and took the mug from his hands. Her finger brushed his slightly, it sent shivers down her spine. She knew he had to have noticed but she said nothing and turned back around to the papers skewed about her desk. She felt a bit annoyed when she heard a stool being dragged over next to hers. This part of her job felt tedious enough without Sherlock hovering above her.

"So, you actually have to fill out all this nonsense?" he scrunched his nose as he looked over her shoulder. "Don't you find it tedious?"

She gave him a small chuckle, "I was actually just thinking about how tedious I found it."

He reached over her arm to grab the autopsy she had laying on top. If she hadn't known Sherlock any better, she would have thought he was leaning his arm against hers on purpose. But he couldn't possibly be looking for an excuse for contact...could he? She mentally scolded herself for caring. She jerked her left arm that he had leaned his right arm against off the desk. He looked a little taken aback but seemed to shrug it off as he brought the paper closer to his vision.

"Albert Yates...age 39, died of gun shot to the back of the head...boring...boring...," he flipped the page to show a picture of the deceased and he shot out of his stool, "Not boring! Not boring at all! Molly!" he turned to her, yanking toward him, "Albert Yates! Do you know what this means?!"

She was standing so close to him and she felt out of breath but she managed to shake her head no. His eyes widened, he looked like a kid in a candy store. He twirled her around as if they had been dancing.

"Albert Yates! Moriarty's network!" he began pushing her forward, "the game, my dear Molly, is on! To the morgue!"

As he ran past her to get to the morgue, all Molly could do was roll her eyes and trudge after him. This twelve-hour shift just got longer. 'Well,' she thought to herself, 'at least her actually brought the coffee'

When she finally made it into the morgue she slammed into Sherlock.

"Sherlock, why are you just standing in front of the do-" she was silenced when one of his hands clamped over her mouth, he pointed with the other. The body of Albert Yates, which she had locked up over an hour ago, was sitting on a slab in the middle of the room. On top of the body was an envelope.

Molly grabbed Sherlock's hand and gently removed it from her mouth. She strode past him very quickly. When she reached the metal table she picked up the envelope. She felt Sherlock behind her, trying to read over her shoulder. Molly felt her heart drop in her stomach as she eyed the writing on the front:

"Molly"