Eric was sweet and not just a little cute. He had this self-deprecating thing down so well that Molly disregarded her usual caution and invited him back to her flat on the third date.
They sat on the sofa talking about the film they had just seen.
"You know, I never would have pegged you for a fantasy fan." Eric said. "You seem so grounded."
Molly smiled. "Oh I can't resist Tolkien, the Hobbit was always my favourite book as a child."
"Mine was Just William, I always identified with naughty scruffy little boys." He looked down at his jeans and shirt. "Although I can clean up well with a little incentive."
Molly grinned and opened her mouth to reply when she heard the thundering of feet outside her apartment.
She winced as the door opened and Sherlock stormed in.
"How the hell did you..." she sighed, there really was no point, "Sherlock, I'm on a date."
"He won't bother me." Sherlock waved his hand dismissively at Eric and started to pace across her rug.
Molly gave Eric an embarrassed smile. "Sorry about this," she whispered.
"Uh who is-"
"Sherlock Holmes, Detective."
Eric looked a little more impressed. "The Sherlock Holmes, the one who offed himself but it was fake?"
"Yes."
"Wow." He shifted his feet slightly. "It's nice to meet you."
Sherlock waved his hand in the air and muttered to himself.
Molly got up. "Ignore him, he's on a case and his usual sounding board is probably on a date. Like me!" she said pointedly.
Eric nodded with a strained smile. "Right... what should we do?"
"Just be quiet while he figures it out. It shouldn't take long. He is quite brilliant." She said with a sudden rush of affection for the detective. "Do you want a drink while we wait?"
"Sure."
Molly switched the kettle on and leaned against the door, watching as her date eyed Sherlock dubiously.
Sherlock tugged at his hair and paced frantically. He suddenly whirled on Molly.
"If you wanted to get rid of a body, Molly, what would you do?"
Molly shrugged. "Take it to the morgue. With my equipment I could easily dispose of a corpse without anyone the wiser."
Sherlock grinned at her. "And if you were not a pathologist?"
Molly chewed her lower lip as she poured three coffees. "I'd find someone I trust to help me move the body. The usual places for dumping bodies are rivers and tunnels. But there is a large shipping company on the East side docks. Some of those containers have been there for years. It would be easy to slip a body inside, cover it with some sort of acid or solution to make reconstruction harder and simply leave it there."
"Someone she trusted." Sherlock fluttered his fingers in the air like he was discarding ideas and searching for new ones. He stopped dead suddenly and clapped his hands together.
"Of course!"
Molly smiled, glad that she could be useful, even a little bit.
Sherlock turned on his heels and started to dash out of the door.
"Wait. Here," Molly held out his drink in a plastic travelling mug. He grabbed it gratefully and was gone before she knew it.
Molly shook her head in fond bemusement and turned back to her date.
Eric gaped at her as she handed him his drink. "You think about committing crimes a lot?"
Molly shrugged at him. "If you spend enough time around police officers and the dead you do tend to think of these things."
"Right," he said uneasily.
She sat by him and snuggled closer.
"So-"
The front door opened again and Sherlock stuck his head inside. "By the way, your date is a habitual gambler and is heavily in debt. He borrowed money from his most recent girlfriend and has yet to pay her back, quite a hefty sum. He's running from loan sharks and is quite possibly trying to extort money from you. Honestly, Molly, look at his hands."
His head disappeared and her front door closed.
Eric opened and closed his mouth.
Molly sighed. "You want that coffee to go?"