"There are two means of refuge from the miseries of life: music and cats"
- Albert Schweitzer


MOLLY HOOPER

Molly says goodbye to her cats as she walks out the door and sighs. She is turning into one of those famed cat ladies, the strange little ladies who live with thousands of cats and still manage to feel lonely.

She takes a cab to the Scotland Yard party and spends the entire trip self-consciously smoothing out her party dress. She hopes it was not too ruffly and that she had not over dressed. She touches her hair, which is carefully coiled into a bun at the back of her head in what she hopes is a sleek and clean look. She couldn't help feeling a bit nervous; parties always made her a bit nervous. Back in university, she was not the person who went to parties, and if she did, she would never dance. She spent her time studying which paid off in the end, she supposes.

When she arrives, she runs into Sherlock and John. Sherlock looks as gorgeous as ever and John seems a bit more lively than usual, his arm wrapped around Sherlock..

Sherlock opens his mouth to say something, but John elbows him hard in the ribs.

"Hello, Molly," John says smiling at her. "You look lovely tonight."

"Thank you, John," she responds, smiling. "Hello, to you two as well." Sherlock nods and smiles at her with what she might have thought of as a hint of jealousy, but she knows that can't be right.

Sherlock puts his arm around John in a physical gesture quite uncommon for Sherlock. Molly smiles at them. They are good for each other.

She had gotten over her obsession with Sherlock about the same time John's wife had died. She had decided that even if Sherlock had ever shown an interest in her, she would not like to date him. She realized that all he did was manipulate her into doing what he wanted. He made her feel like a small brown mouse, insignificant and rather stupid. And anyways, in the lab, she had watched Sherlock stare in a lovesick manner at John when he thought John wasn't looking, and when Sherlock looked away, she saw John stare in the exact same manner at Sherlock. They were obviously in love with each other.

Besides she had a new interest, Greg. As in Greg Lestrade. As in super sexy silver hair. As in warm brown eyes. As in the guy who actually noticed her. And the guy who was probably not a crazy super villain like Jim, which is always a plus.

Although she initially found Greg slow and average as compared to Sherlock, she now found Greg warm and intelligent and found Sherlock rather arrogant. When Greg came to ask her for help on cases, he brought her coffee and knew just how she liked it. He was actually fantastically funny; he told her stories about interesting cases and humorous self-deprecating stories about himself. She liked that he was so modest. And he seemed genuinely interested in hearing what she had to say, laughing at her jokes and comforting her when one of her cats died. Talking with him was so easy. She took her attraction to Greg as a good sign, a sign that she was over Sherlock. Unlike her last love interest, Tom, Greg looks nothing like Sherlock; he's handsome in a different way.

Best of all was when Sherlock came in while she and Greg had been talking. She remembered catching a glimpse of Sherlock's face; Sherlock had looked completely astounded, as though someone had outsmarted him, and she remembered wondering what was wrong. After Greg left, Sherlock had faced her and said in almost accusing way, "He fancies you, did you know that?" She was surprised. Greg fancied her? Then she caught herself. Sherlock probably wants something.

"What do you want?" she had asked, folding her arms across her chest.

Sherlock had gaped at her. "Nothing," he said curtly. "Just surprising." John then walked in and Sherlock had promptly stopped talking and immediately gotten to work.

But Molly couldn't stop thinking about it. Sherlock hadn't asked her for anything that day. So unless this was a cruel trick of Sherlock's, Greg apparently fancies her. She certainly hopes so; she is starting to fancy Greg back.

"Molly!" Molly surfaces from her thoughts and is brought back to the party. Molly turns and sees none other than Greg waving at her from across the room. He grins at her and pats the seat next to him. Molly smiles at him and weaves her way through drunken Scotland Yard members. Molly can't believe that people have managed to get drunk already; the party started only an hour ago.

"Hi Greg," she said as she sat down. He smiles at her again and she feels her heart swoop. He is good looking in a good-natured way with a firm face and laugh lines around his eyes. His expressive brown eyes are perhaps her favorite trait of his.

"Hullo Molly. You look absolutely stunning tonight. Would you care for a drink?" He offers her a drink and she takes it, smiling internally. He called me stunning, she thinks. Score!

"You look great as well," she responds and takes a sip.

He smiles and shakes his head. "I wish. How have you been?"

"Good," Molly says. "I woke up to the sounds of my cat Albert attacking a pineapple I bought, but besides that it was a pretty decent day."

Greg laughs. "A pineapple? God, cats are weird." He takes a swig of his drink and grins at her.

Molly smiles. "Yes, and then he brought the poor mangled pineapple to me as if it were some prey that he had captured."

Greg laughs again and Molly laughs with him. They talk about work and when they see Sherlock stomping about, looking rather like an overgrown toddler throwing a tantrum. They begin to gossip.

"Oh dear. Sherlock looks a bit mad," says Molly grinning at Greg.

"No kidding," says Greg watching Sherlock storm at an unfortunate couple.

"I'll bet it's because John is dancing with that her," Molly nods knowingly to John twirling a lady around on the dance floor.

"Oh bloody hell. She has to be about seventy years old! Sherlock can't be jealous, can't he? He can't be that thick about relationships..." Greg pauses to peer at Sherlock, who was now pacing. "Besides, I can't see him dancing."

Molly giggles at the thought of Sherlock dancing. "Well, he certainly looks jealous."

Sherlock had turned a truly magnificent vermilion color as John kissed the lady on the cheek and led her away to get a drink.

"I would have never thought he'd gotten so red with that deathly pale complexion of his," comments Greg mildly.

Molly giggles. "My my, his face is the exact color of a marvelously healthy liver."

Greg sprays his drink as he snorts with laughter. "Molly, you are brilliant. Did I ever tell you that?" He wipes off droplets of his drink off his pants. "And I am bloody disgusting."

Molly beams at Greg. Brilliant he calls me. I think I'm in love. Greg and her lock eyes.

I love his eyes, she thinks rather dreamily as Greg smiles at her, both completely oblivious to the shouting match between Sherlock and John happening a only few feet away...