The squeak of men's designer loafer shoes echoes in the hallway as a tall and dark man walks to the morgue, a shorter, blonde man following after him.
"So, if she fought back and bit him, DNA will be in her teeth?" John asks as they came to a stop in front of the double doors. Sherlock sighs and grabs the handle to the one of the doors. "Yes, John, but the sooner we get the evidence, the sooner we get the culprit. Thankfully, Molly was in charge of the post mortem." Sherlock explains as he pulls open the door.
The smell of formaldehyde fumes hits John as they walked inside. He watches as Sherlock takes off his coat and scarf and flings them on top of a stool. John, though, keeps his jacket on. The one thing John will never figure out is how Sherlock can even stand the coldest and hottest of temperatures.
Sherlock sits down at a microscope, getting it ready to look at their evidence. He looks around to find Molly, but she was nowhere in sight. "Where is she?" he grumbles. Looking down at his watch to check the time, he wonders if she was still on her shift. His leg starts to twitch impatiently and taps his fingers on the table.
John opens his mouth to opt a suggestion, before he heard the doors open again. The two turn their heads to see the person they were looking.
Molly walks in with a clipboard in her hands, scribbling down something and mumbling to herself. She chewed on the end of her pen as John looks her over.
Surprisingly, her hair was down, cascading down into soft, cinnamon curls. She wasn't wearing her usual lab coat, but instead was wearing a low neck cream-colored jumper. She was also wearing baggy black trousers with light gray ballet flats, and a gold necklace with a red cherry charm shined around her neck.
"Ah, Molly! Great timing!"
Sherlock gets up from his seat and pushes pass John. John hides a smirk as Sherlock talks to Molly. After Sherriford, times had been troubling between him and Molly. They didn't speak for three months after what had been said.
It took the "gentle" persuasion of Mary Watson for them to talk it out. More times than one, John has learned to never piss off his wife. One of those times included when he heard about how she got the two of them to work out their problems.
The plan involved a threat to use John's gun to shoot Sherlock in a spot where only the most despicable men deserved to be shot if he didn't go down to Molly's flat and explain what happened on the island.
Now, the two were friends again. There was still an awkward tension in the air at times, but the two were still as close as ever.
And although Sherlock would never admit it, John can tell though that Sherlock was more than ecstatic to have Molly back in his life again. He still remembered the time when Sherlock stayed with him and Mary as 221B was being rebuild.
John would wake up in the middle of the night due to Rosie's crying, but he would see Sherlock already there to help her. He knew it was because Sherlock had already been up for the umpteenth night in a row, worrying about Molly.
And now that things fell back to normal, John was happy that his closest friends were able to make up.
"I need the body of Denise Fleckman. I need to check-"
"Her teeth? Already did it and found traces of skin embedded in her molars." Molly says as she walks to one of the lab tables. "I was about to run it, but if you want to look at it, here you go." She hands Sherlock a slide with pink flakes on it.
Sherlock lit up like a Christmas tree as she does so. "Ah, brilliant!" He grabs the slide and races to the microscope he set up. John smiles and turns to Molly. "Thanks a bunch, Molly. You just saved us a lot of time."
Molly smiles back and waves a dismissive hand as she blushes a bit. "It was no problem. Greg let me look over the case file, and I had a feeling that there could be something there. I could tell that Denise was a woman who wouldn't go down without a fight."
John chuckles. "That was exactly what Sherlock deduced about Denise too. Maybe you'll give him a run for his money." He jokes as he looks pointedly towards the man, who was actively turning the knobs of the microscope.
Molly giggles as she looks at Sherlock as well. "Maybe, I wonder if I'll be able to find myself a John to help me out." She pokes John in the stomach with affection, and John gives out another chuckle.
As John turns to Sherlock, Molly places her clipboard down on the table. "I just got back from lunch, so I'm going to work on my own assignments if you guys don't mind." She says as she starts to put her hair up in a messy bun. She pulls up a stool beside the two of them and sits down.
"No problem at all, Molls." John smiles.
Sherlock gives a grunt of approval at her. John rolls his eyes at him and slightly shakes his head. Made up with Molly or not, he's still an impossible man when he's on his cases. However, he has gotten better with treating her in the morgue.
About twelve minutes passed with Sherlock looking at the microscope, John watching over his shoulder, and Molly working on her own projects. John, getting bored with watching him, looks around the morgue silently before his eyes landed on Molly, who was stooped down over her paperwork.
John was really grateful that Molly was happy again. She was like a dear little sister to him. Witnessing that scene between her and Sherlock and watching her almost die made him see how lucky he and Sherlock were to have an incredible woman like her in their lives.
John's eyes flicked over her and suddenly, he noticed something was off.
He looked over Molly again. More specifically, he looked around her collarbone. He narrows his eyes at a small black mark that contracted with Molly's ivory skin. It was slightly hiding behind the collar of her jumper.
It looked like ink. What was that? He didn't notice that before.
"Hey, Molly," Molly looked up at John. "I think you accidentally marked yourself with a pen," he says gesturing to her skin.
Molly looked puzzled for a moment before her face suddenly caught on fire. "O-oh! T-That's not..um. It-" She looks down shyly and clears her throat.
John raises an eyebrow at her reaction and Sherlock lifts his head to look at her as well. Molly's face grows redder at their stares. She clears her throat again and rubs her neck.
"Ah, that's not a pen, I-I, um, I was feeling bold the other day with my friend, Meena, and we, uh, well, I…" John and Sherlock looked at each other before looking back at her.
"…I got a tattoo." She finished lamely, finding the surface of the table interesting all of a sudden.
One could hear a pin drop in the room, it was that silent. John was stunned while Sherlock sat there utterly frozen. "You…got a tattoo?" John said finally.
Molly nervously laughed. "It was stupid. We had a bit to drink, and Meena came up with the plan. Then all of a sudden, we're at the tattoo parlor. But she wimped out after I got mine because she was deathly afraid of the needles."
Molly sighed as she rolled her eyes. "How else did she expect for them to put it on her? Like mine was kissed on by puppies! I was so angry with her, but we're good now! I actually grew to like it!" She giggled.
John eventually let out a loud chuckle. "I'm absolutely gobsmacked, Molly! I didn't know you had it in you!" John looked to Sherlock to see if he agreed, but he just sat, still not moving.
John's smile went away at his silence, and he looked back at Molly.
"If you don't mind me asking, what did you get?"
Molly let out a nervous giggle before moving her jumper over to show the top of her collarbone.
Right there in on her skin was a delicate honeybee. It was slightly bigger than the size of a bottle cap. The tip of one of the wings was what John noticed earlier, and they were beautifully detailed with swirls of black and white ink. The bee's body was drawn with fuzzy elements and colored with black and pale-yellow stripes. A bit of black ivy was decorated under the stinger of the honeybee.
At the sight of the tattoo, Sherlock clenched the microscope's knobs. "Oh, it looks good!" John said. Molly pursed her lips. "It does?" she asked uncertainly.
"Of course, but why a honeybee?" John asked. Sherlock licks his lips as he kept his gaze on the tattoo, but the two didn't notice his actions. "I always liked bees. They're very important to our ecosystem, and I thought it would be a unique idea. Not a lot of people get bee tattoos."
"Well, I like it. What about you, Sherlock?" John elbowed Sherlock in the arm.
Sherlock clears his throat. "It looks…good. Very good." Suddenly, Sherlock pops up from his seat and grabs his things. "We need to get going, John. Thank you for the help, Molly." He gives her a strained smile before turning abruptly.
He races out of the morgue without looking back at either of them. John sighs and pinches the space between his eyes. "I'm sorry, Molly. You know how he is on cases," he smiles at her.
Molly simply shrugs, but John could tell she was a bit hurt from Sherlock. She moves the jumper back into place, and stands up. "I actually need to get my lab coat on, I have three more post mortems to do before my shift ends."
She gives a hug to John, who immediately hugs back. "I'll come by to see you and Mary soon. And I'm off tomorrow if you need me to watch Rosie for you!" She said happily.
"Oh, thanks, Molls! Mary and I would love a night out! Be careful getting home tonight, yeah?" John gives Molly a kiss on the cheek before walking towards the doors.
"Thank you, John! You and Sherlock be careful!"
John walks out of the morgue and hurriedly catches up to Sherlock.
"You know, you could have talk to her more than that!" He scolded Sherlock when he made it to his side.
"Yes, yes." He said absentmindedly as they walked out of Bart's. He lifted up a hand to call a cab, and when it came, he and John got in. Sherlock props his arm up on the window and looks out of it as the cab drives down the street, lost in thought.
"And why didn't you say more about her tattoo? She was nervous about it to begin with, and all you said was 'very good,' you could have said better than that crap!" John crosses his arms as he glares at Sherlock.
Sherlock doesn't say anything as he keeps his gaze on the road. John sighs. "Sherlock, if you don't want to go back to how it was after Sherriford, you need to say better compliments to Molly than that."
Sherlock finally looks at John. "Oh, I'll do more than that, John." He gives a smirk to John, but something was odd about it. John furrowed his eyebrows in confusion as he looks from side to side, speechlessly that he agreed with him so quickly.
"…Okay?"
John didn't raise the issue again. The two finished their case and Sherlock disappeared without another word to John. He probably feels bad about the interaction with Molly. Good, he should be. Without another thought, John just went home to Mary and Rosie, and he fondly told Mary about today's discovery and about Molly's offer to take Rosie for tomorrow night.
John walked into 221B the next morning, a baby carrier with little Rosie in tow. "Hello, Sherlock?" John called. No answer replied back.
John puts Rosie in his chair, and he affectionately smiles at her as she giggles up at him. "Daddy loves you too, Rose Bud." He kisses her on the head as she grabs the tip of his finger.
"Sherlock?" He calls again and looks into the kitchen. Sherlock wasn't there.
John looks down at Rosie. "Just wait here for a second, Rose Bud. Daddy will be right back." John walks in the kitchen and looks at Sherlock's bedroom door, which was closed.
Was he still in bed? It wasn't that late, but he was usually up by now. John feels a dread reminder of the last time Sherlock had his door closed. He slowly walks up to the door and grabs the doorknob.
"Sh-" John started as he opened the door, but every thought in his head came to a stop as his wide eyes took in the sight before him.
There, laying asleep underneath Sherlock, was a bare Molly Hooper. Her hair was spread across the pillows like a halo, and her sleeping face looked blissfully peaceful.
Sherlock, just as bare as Molly, softly slept with his head on Molly's collarbone, his lips centimeters away from her bee tattoo. Luckily, Sherlock's arm was modestly draped over her chest, so John didn't see anything that would make him never look Molly in the eye ever again. The sheets were crumpled around the couple, the duvet thrown to the floor, and their legs were entangled together as well as their fingers. Red and purple marks were peppered around Molly's neck, more so around her tattoo.
John looked around the room to notice that clothes were thrown at every corner of the room, and he slowly decide to descend from the room. But before he could, Sherlock stirred a bit, and he froze. Sherlock didn't wake, however, but instead he unconsciously pulled his hand from Molly's and embraced her tightly as he breathed in her scent. He placed a kiss on Molly's collarbone before giving out a small happy smile.
After Sherlock didn't move again, John left the room quietly as possible, tiptoed to pick up Rosie, and the father and daughter left the flat.
"Well, Rose Bud," John smiled as he shakes his head. "He wasn't kidding when he said he'll do more than say it." John chuckled before he called Mary to tell her the good news and let Molly off the hook for tonight.