First one of these one-shots! If any of you are wondering why it jumps in time - just remember what fanfiction your reading. That's right, Doctor Who. It would be a crime against my little fangirl heart if I didn't jump all over space and time. Obviously, you'll get when it's happening - I hope.

Everything still stands; I own absolutely nothing.


Molly sneaks into the men's locker room at St. Bart's and finds some clothes for the Doctor (that is to his liking: a bowtie and a tweed jacket, although she hasn't a faintest clue who at the hospital wears this). Once dressed, and after he spends almost five minutes fixing the blue bowtie, he bids her farewell. However, he gets as far as the door before he spins around and looks intently at Molly.

"What?" she asks him, feeling heat rise in her cheeks.

"Well", he rubs the back of his neck. "I'm not very good at being coy, so I'm just going to spill it—would you like to come with me?"

She stares at him for almost a minute, wondering why in the world would the Doctor want her to come with him. She calls it ironic that she spends only an hour with him and she has him asking her to come travel in time and space with him, but she spends almost two years with Sherlock and she can't even get him for a coffee date. All of time and space—everything that has ever happened or ever will...where do you want to start?

All this time, he's watching her—he's seen this hundreds of times. He crashes into some person's boring and tedious life, takes them on a fun filled adventure, and changes their life forever. He's not completely proud of it, but it's true. He knows what she's going to say. So, it comes as a surprise to him when she finally says, "I'm sorry, but I've got work—and...and thank you, but"—she stops and gestures to the morgue. "But, I have this. It's not much, I know, but I like it here."

She's rather afraid that she's upset him; she can see hurt flash across his features, but he does a rather lovely job of covering it up and regaining his footing. "Oh, don't worry. I understand." He gives her a cheery smile. He points to the exit, "I'll be off then."

"Yes", she says and, even now, the seeds of regret and uncertainty have already been planted in her head. "Be careful, Doctor."

He flashes Molly his patented cocky smirk. "Am I ever not?"

She has to say it to him. It would be a crime not to knock him down and, before she can mull over her response, it has already left her lips. "Pray, Doctor, tell me which body are you on now, hm?"

He narrows his eyes at her before chuckling. "Ah, I suppose I should be more careful." He smiles at her and she smiles back. "Goodbye, Molly."

"Goodbye, Doctor."


The next day, Molly Hooper is gone. John asks where she's went, but Mike doesn't know. The next day, Molly's replacement arrives, a forty year old Nigerian man who lives with his wife, three kids, and his mother-in-law and, although he respects his wife's mother, he hates her with every fiber of his being. John silently thanks whatever deity causes Sherlock not to say this to him.

Dr. Buhari, he says is his name as he holds his hand out to Sherlock. "Dr. Hooper has told me all about you and the arrangement that St. Bart's and you have, so don't worry—this arrangement will continue as long as you follow the rules."

"I wasn't", Sherlock mutters lowly, but still shakes the man's hand. "By the way, where is Molly?"

"I do not know". He hesitates before continuing—'Molly told him not to tell me anything', Sherlock thinks. "Yesterday, she briefed me before a man in a trench coat rushed in and pulled her out. It seemed urgent."

Sherlock just nods while John shoots him an incredulous look. They spend the next three hours there and Sherlock finds Dr. Buhari to be of excellent help.

"A suitable replacement", he mutters as they walk down the hall.

Finally, during their ride back to the flat, John says, "A man in a trench coat? Do you think it was that Captain fellow?"

Sherlock remains silent for a minute or so, his gloved hands placed at his lips. "It is unwise to come to conclusions before one has all the data."

John scoffs at that and looks out the window. "He didn't seem dangerous—I mean, well, he doesn't seem like he's with Moriarty."

"It is also unwise and dangerous to underestimate Moriarty." He lets out a sigh and takes out his mobile. "We've only hit the tip of the iceberg, John. The complete scale of Moriarty's network and empire is not yet known to me." By this time, Sherlock has already typed out three messages and solved a robbery. "If this Captain was to be in league with Moriarty, I'd stop him."

By this time, Molly has already dissected the decimated form of a Matriarchinain and a Monoid and, now, she's with Captain Jack, trailing the migratory patterns of Isoluses.