AN: Hey there! Glad to see you people like this story. So here's more. Enjoy! :)
It looked like the day was going to be a day of hiding.
As soon as she had exited the lab, Molly made a quick dash to the stairs so as to get into the sanctuary of her morgue. She didn't even wait to see if Sherlock was following her.
What she had asked (she had no idea why it had come out like a demand) was so much out of the line. Since his return from the dead their relationship had been rocky at best. Not to mention her engagement, his fake engagement and of course the drugs. And the icing on top of the cake had been Moriarty's alleged return.
It had turned out to be Jim's (James, her mind supplied) henchman Sebastian Moran. After the case was solved things returned to normal, well as normal as it could be with Sherlock. They were back to being friends, minus Molly's stuttering. It was pretty good, but then she had to ruin it all.
Now all she could hope was Sherlock would ignore whatever happened in the lab. Hopefully he went into his mind palace right at the moment she had decided to stupidly ask him take her to Tom's wedding. Sherlock still had the ability to tear her into pieces and she didn't what him to do exactly that when he will tell her that he wouldn't take her to the wedding.
Molly sighed in relief as she saw the morgue doors looming ahead. She burst into the room and locked the door behind her. She knew she was being stupid but she really wasn't ready to face the consequences and anyway she had work to do at the morgue.
Brimming with self-denial, she headed towards the cadaver that was ready for her to reveal the secrets it held. She smiled. At last, something was happening in her favor. But the smile disappeared as soon as she realized that all the case related files were in the lab.
"Shit."
She slumped into a nearby chair. She considered her odds of running into Sherlock.
If he hadn't yet banged the morgue door apart, surely he didn't want to see her?
She didn't know what was sadder, Sherlock finding her and putting her in her place or him not even wanting to see her. That thought made her even more depressed.
But she had her job to do. Deciding to brave it she went to get those files. Not before making a pot of coffee which somehow took half an hour. Seriously, she had to tell Mike to get her a better coffee maker.
Molly really didn't want to but she peeked into the lab through the glass on the door. If someone saw her it would look ridiculous. She standing on tip toes (the glass was so much higher that she expected) into her own lab. If she saw Sherlock she would call it a tactical retreat. But then the lab was empty.
Her stomach dropped and her shoulders slumped even more.
The day then seemed to pass in a haze. She had no idea how one moment she was elbow deep into Mr. Richard Henry's body and the next she was back at her apartment.
"Hello, Toby" she called out to her cat who barely opened one of his eyes to acknowledge her as he lay curled up on the sofa.
"So much for all the affection you garnered upon me in the morning" she muttered as she threw her handbag on the chair and shucked off her coat.
And that reminded her of the mess on the carpet. With a heavy sigh she went about cleaning the stain from the carpet.
Ding.
Another message. Eleventh to be precise. When her phone had produced that sound the first time Molly had had to upend her the entire contents of her handbag to find her phone. The moment she saw the sender she put dropped it as though it had burned her. It had been Sherlock. There was no way she was going to see what he had to say (shout?).
After eating a reheated lasagna from the previous day, Molly decided to call it a night. The day that been a nightmare and she really wanted it to be over as soon as possible.
Yet again to prove that it was truly not her day, the doorbell rang right after she was all comfy.
Oh! Man. She groaned.
She had no idea who it would be and she really didn't want to know. She hoped they'd just go away but Molly being Molly didn't want to be rude.
Dragging herself out of her bed she went to the door and opened it without even bothering to check who it was.
She really shouldn't have been surprised. Everything was going against her after all.
"Why didn't you just pick the lock like you always do?" she asked to the curly haired, high cheek boned, impossible eyed, six feet of utter perfection aka Sherlock Holmes.
"You were avoiding me. I was respecting your wishes" he said. When she looked harder at him he caved. "Also Mary might have advised against it."
Hmmm…she must thank Mary.
But back to the matter at hand. No matter how much she denied it, Sherlock was here and he wanted to talk about what had happened in the morning.
"Look Sherlock" she started but was cut off by his baritone.
"I don't have much time, Molly. Lestrade is waiting for me at the station, a possible nine he says" he said with glee. "So here" he said and Molly noticed for the first time the box he held in his hand.
"What is this?" she asked in confusion. The box was a rich cream in color and was nondescript.
"It's a dress" he said and if it were someone else she would be sure that the tone was shy. But this was the world's only consulting detective.
When the look of confusion didn't leave her face she sighed.
"For the wedding."
"You are taking me to the wedding?" she asked in shock, her voice all squeaky.
"Oh! Do keep up, Molly. You did ask, no demanded I should say" he smirked at that "that I take you."
"Okay…Why did you buy a dress?"
"Um…Uh…Mary told me it's a social thing. Now I have to go. Goodbye."
And with that he was gone in a swish of his coat, leaving Molly standing at the door, a box in a hand and jaw hung open.
She stood there for a solid minute before shaking her head and getting back into her flat.
It didn't go as she had expected. Sherlock didn't get offended or anything. He was okay with taking her to the wedding. So everything had turned out to be quite alright.
Phew.
She eyed the box which was currently resting on the coffee table.
But she decided to check her messages first, now that she wasn't scared. There were ten from Sherlock all different variations of him asking her to text him back. But it was the newest one that caught her attention. It was from Mary and it caused her to smile so much that her cheeks began to hurt.
I had nothing to do with the dress. ;)
-MW
AN: Hope you liked this.
