Here's hoping you enjoy my interpretation of Molly Hooper. Read your hearts out!


Molly adores singing in the shower. She does her best not slip up when working in the mortuary, as "Friday I'm in Love" cost her a few glares the last time.

She has taken up knitting just for Sherlock. Seeing the consulting detective's obvious attachment to his navy scarf, she attempted to knit him a scarf of her own. Unfortunately, it looks more like a glorified rag. She keeps it in her handbag, unable to work up the confidence to present it to Sherlock.

Molly is soft, but she has a core of steel. Working as a forensic pathologist, she isn't at all put off by the more unpleasant details that most would choose to avoid; blood, corpses and death.

She's always had an "anxious doctor" mentality. Fearing that she would make a fatal mistake and possibly kill a patient, she chose to be a forensic pathologist because the people she deals with are already dead.

Molly is desperately envious of Irene. She barely contains her jealousy, and often tries to work out just how Sherlock recognized Miss Adler from, "not her face."

She is quite lonely. She's even gone so far as to disregard Christmas to work in the morgue. She attempts to form relationships with other men, but never can fully dedicate herself; a piece of her heart will always be for Sherlock. Molly was much surprised when none other than Greg Lestrade asked her out, though she declined as gently as she could, as she doesn't have feelings for Greg beyond the platonic.

Molly is rather obsessed with Glee. Something about the always-effervescent characters distracts her from the tiring monotony of the morgue, and the rejection of a certain consulting detective's unrequited feelings.

She deeply wishes for children. Molly has always harboured a fondness for them, and to tell the truth, Toby doesn't replace the bubbling warmth of having a child of her very own. She fears that no one will fall in love with her, therefore she'll never get married, and consequently, she'll never have a family. Never have children. It's a scary thought.

Molly quite likes the color purple. She thinks it mysterious, calming, deep, and—though she would never admit this—a bit sexy. She often wears purple socks.

She is aware that Sherlock occasionally takes advantage of her affectionate personality. He'll compliment the placement of her part, or her makeup, but really he just wants to gain access to bodies and other things. The frequent look of apology on John's face confirms this.

Molly is fearless. She would take a bullet for a friend, go through a haunted house (twice!), and—although she isn't always satisfied—has an admirable ability to stand on her own.

She has a light mania for the Beatles. And each time Glee performs their interpretation of a Beatles tune, she'll drop all her insecurities and dance around her apartment, happy for a little while.

Molly has always thought her appearance too plain. Her weapon of choice is her lovely hair, which she keeps long in order to distract from what she calls, her "dreadfully ordinary form."

John isn't the only one never to have called Sherlock a freak. Molly is extremely loyal, and cares deeply for Sherlock, beyond even her blatant schoolgirl crush. She will do anything to help him, anything at all.

She sometimes doesn't return home at night. Molly simply falls asleep in her chair while studying a murder victim's liver and wakes up in the stillness of the morgue the following morning, knowing it's too late to go home. She'll put on a brave face and her lipstick, and no one knows the difference.

Molly lost her father very young. Because of this, she made endless paper rounds and worked weekends and nights just to put herself through university. She may be seen as the mousy, awkward morgue attendant, but she's quite sharp in her academic abilities.

She doesn't like nosy people. Though, upon further contemplation, Sherlock could be considered nosy. Ah, well…her dislike has its exceptions. Exception.

Molly loves the rain. It's so magical to her, watching the crystalline drops fall from the sky, drenching the world in seconds, unannounced. When colleagues fuss about the weather and go around handing out umbrellas, she refuses; she doesn't mind getting wet.

And in the rain, no one can tell if you're crying or not.


Review! You know you want to...

-Spark Writer-