A/N: For the March 17th prompt: "On the eve of the funeral." Rated K.
"Are you going to it?" Molly asked the dead man sitting on the other side of her kitchen peninsula.
"I think that would raise more than a few eyebrows," Sherlock said, smirking, as he sipped his coffee.
Molly rolled her eyes. "I meant in disguise. How many people get to attend their own funeral?"
"Too risky."
"You're calling something too risky?" She grinned. "I should mark this date on the calendar."
"I'll save the rest of my nine lives for Moriarty's web."
"I always knew you were a cat."
Sherlock gave her a little half-smile. "I'll take that as a compliment. Are you going?"
"Of course. I have to play silly Molly Hooper, the girl with the ridiculous crush, now grieving for what might have been." The bitterness in her tone was clear.
He reached across the peninsula to take her hand. "You don't have to live down to other people's expectations, Molly. You're not silly." He gave her another half-smile. "And crushes are only ridiculous if they're one-way. Yours is not."
Molly stared at him. "It's … it's not?"
Sherlock just sipped his coffee, his eyes dancing.