So finally a little fluffier Sherlock & Molly moments (with the beginning being more John / Sherlock). Hope you'll like it. This is very new so I hope there aren't too much mistakes.

Also, thanks a lot for the reviews. :)

After two days of insignificant cases and still no news from the hacker, Sherlock started showing the usual signs of manic boredom that John had somewhat forgotten since the three years since the detective's death. It seemed that between his return from the dead, the wedding's preparations and the Magnussen case, Sherlock hadn't had the time to really get bored. Right now however, he was almost foaming at the mouth with idleness.

"Get me a case John!" he ordered.

"Sherlock, we've already been through your blog and mine, there is nothing new from yesterday. Well except the cases you already rejected." Replied the army doctor, massaging his temples, feeling a headache starting to form.

"Maybe you should consider sleeping apart from Mary from now on. Obviously, her nocturnal trips to the loo that startle you awake are considerably diminishing your already limited mental abilities." Pouted Sherlock behind him.

"Mate, check for yourself if you want! There is nothing new! And don't talk about Mary like that!" shot back the blogger as he gestured at Sherlock to come and have a look at the screen of the computer. "You see, only thing that you haven't look at twice is the spam tarot reading." John said as he showed the image of the Hierophant with some asinine comments about by mastering knowledge will one wield power.

Sherlock was sick of it. The only cases remaining were twos, threes at most, not at all deserving of his time. He had texted Lestrade but the man was in holidays, probably trying to get his wife back again, even if she was still having an affair. This time with a female nurse, just to sprinkle a little variety to her long list of infidelities. As he let his annoyance express itself in a very loud moan, the detective went to the freezer to check and see if he had any fingers left. None, of course. What a blighted day! Well, he'll just have to swing by at the morgue and try to charm Molly's out a few fingers and maybe some ears. Or maybe, just stay and have her keep him company while he was doing some new experiment on manufacturing new fingerprints. He turned to John Watson and finally said:

"Fine. There's nothing new! I'll go to Bart's and weasel a few body parts and you can go back to your wife and do whatever you need to do to feel you're actually carrying the child yourself." He said somewhat resigned over the lack of the case but nonetheless calmer.

Dr Watson looks as if he was going to say something but finally shrugged it off as he stood up and made to get his coat. As he was leaving the room, he tossed back:

"OK, Sherlock, see you tomorrow evening. I'm sure something will turn out. Have fun at the morgue." John somewhat slowed down as he thought about it "And you might want to apologise to Molly about her bed." With that last comment, he left.

Sherlock, still in the flat hunched in shoulders dismissively. However, he still went to go check his physical appearance in the mirror of his dressing. He had on the shirt she liked the most so she shouldn't be too crossed, would she? Once again, dismissing the little idea, he went to grab his coat, went down the stairs and hailed a cab.

At the morgue, Molly was going over some paper work that had accumulated during the previous days. The fact was that she was less focused than usual, the threat of the return of Moriarty always on her mind even if she knew that she had some consequent security provided by Mycroft Holmes. Thankfully, Nick was a wonderful companion that diverted her thoughts from this sword hanging over her neck. She smiled as the image of the Doctor came to her mind. OK, he was very different from Sherlock but still, he was gorgeous and she kind of liked his American easy-going attitude. Yet, she had to confess that she always experienced a little thrill at the detective's precise and matter-of-fact deductions… She squashed quickly the comparisons she was making between the two men as that was so silly. It wasn't like she had to choose between them. But if she could have both of them… Stop it, she had to stop that line of thought before it became even sillier. As she was admonishing herself about her wandering mind, someone whispered in her ear:

"Quite a common cause of death. Why are you smiling?" asked Sherlock, his voice rumbling with curiosity as he leaned over the pathologist.

Molly startled at that and unwillingly pushed all her paperwork from the workstation. The detective quickly stepped aside as the petite woman quickly bent to her knees to get the files and also… hide a blush. Sherlock internally smiled at the idea that he was still able to provoke that kind of reaction in his friend. Molly, on the other hand, was cursing her awkwardness and quick-to-colour temperament. She'd never be one of those poised woman that hid their inner thoughts and could reply with grace and nonchalance. Instead, she'd trip, stammer and redden. Crushing her mind-wanderings, she got up, her cases in hand and put them back at her station. She then turned to Sherlock.

"Hi Sherlock, you startled me!" she said

"Indeed. But still, I don't see what was so engrossing in your paperwork? Anything you'd need my help with" replied the detective hopeful.

"Err… No, sorry that was pretty straightforward. But where is John?" asked Molly looking around, expecting for the army doctor to enter the lab and not really wanting to divulge the naughty thoughts that were starting form in her mind before the detective's interruption.

"Sent him back home. No cases. And you should see him. Just fidgeting and worrying like a mother hen. If I didn't know for a fact that Mary was the one pregnant, I would expect him to pop the child at any moment." Told the detective, a little smile on the lips.

Molly giggled at the scene the detective was depicting and had to admit that Sherlock was right. Even Mary was starting to get a little edgy at John's behaviour.

"Yes. Mary might have mentioned this." Acknowledged Molly with a sly glance at Sherlock. "Anyway, what can I do for you? Did you fall short of fingers?"

"Yep. I'd also need an ear or two, those to go. But for the fingers, I'll be at my station. I have a new experiment to do." Finally said the detective.

"OK. I'll get it." Said Molly. She made to go to the morgue but then stopped as a usual thought nagged at her. "By the way Sherlock, anything new on the video-thing?" she asked, some uneasiness creeping in her voice.

Sherlock felt suddenly a little disheartened. Of course Molly would be worried. She was the reason why Moriarty failed. If his brother was the one who had organised everything and made sure that he would get out physically unarmed, it was Molly that kept him sane during the ordeal. She would be a target now. And he had no lead. He frowned and took a step closer to Molly:

"Sorry. We don't have the perpetrator yet. He's a hacker and has covered his trail. Even Mycroft couldn't track him. But please, believe me when I say that you have the best security that one could have. He can't get to you." Softly said Sherlock.

"I know Sherlock. I know. I have no doubt that you'll get him." Said Molly, refraining from touching Sherlock's shoulder. He looked so dejected. She decided to liven up the atmosphere and cheerfully said "Oh, come on, don't look so beaten up, I'll give you an extra big toe."

With a smile and a little wink, she exited the lab to get the body parts. Behind her, Sherlock smiled a genuine and warm grin at the effort made by the pathologist to cheer him up.