I have a recommendation...put on "My Medea," when you read these chapters. Because of reasons.
And as the daylight falls, the wind becomes so wild across the stone.
Molly Hooper worked the evening and night shifts, rarely venturing into the daylight hours. This meant she overlapped between the bodies of those who died in broad daylight and the darkness of nighttime. Sherlock had, before he'd ever met her, planned on coming in during these shifts particularly. He was just very lucky that the exact person he needed worked those same hours as well. Sherlock needed intelligent, fast-working, clinical, and sentimental. He needed someone who would look at the bodies with a sympathetic eye, because that was an angle he could not see but still needed. Molly Hooper was exactly what he required, and she was always so nice to him as he invaded her lab and her mortuary.
Most other people said "Piss off," when he asked for their assistance. But never once had Molly ever claimed she was unable to help him. It was because she liked him too—but in a different way than he liked her. Molly Hooper had a crush.
Her crush on him was grating, but it meant she would never request a change in scheduling based on his visits—the minor inconvenience of her stammers gave him far greater reward in the long run than if she fled from him as some of the other pathologists did. And because she was the chief pathologist, it meant he had the run of the place. If Sherlock were very much into kissing when he met her, he could have kissed her for the fact that she was smart enough and good enough to be right where he needed her to be.
Review?
