Sherlock Holmes looked like a super hero that one day. He almost flew into the morgue, his cape like coat flapping behind him as though its life depended on it. John was hurried behind him, almost out of breath. Molly was working in the morgue that day. To say she was surprised is an understatement.
"Molly, I need the bodies of Suzanne King and Rodger Newsbie pronto. John, help her. I'll get the riding crop," Sherlock barked as he ran up to the lab.
"W-what's going on?" Molly asked as she found the two bodies Sherlock desired.
"Usual. This one is a nine, apparently, and Sherlock is stumped. It's almost funny."
Molly smiled along with John and Sherlock rushed back to see them, a manic grin on his face that had both Molly and John recoil in fear.
"So, a nine, huh?"
"Molly, shut up. John don't think. Actually Molly, just go to the other room, thanks," Sherlock demanded as he took his stance, another grin at John.
Molly sighed and left to the lab, cleaning up the mess Sherlock had already made by running through it and knocking glass over.
"Great, it's another day of seeing that curly haired, ungrateful, cold hearted, rude, selfish, socially inadequate-"
"Are you going to continue insulting me with your random adjectives or are you going to come down to the morgue and help me?" a voice cut her off from behind, the voice of the curly haired swine.
Molly spun around, her jaw dropped; absolutely shocked that Sherlock had heard her. How was this even possible?!
"Sherlock! I-I-"
"That's great, Molly. You're needed in the morgue, chop chop." Sherlock stalked out of the room, as silent as a fox, almost as silent as his entrance.
Molly blushed a deep red as she walked out of the lab, her head down, absolutely ashamed that she'd been caught out by the one and only Sherlock Holmes.
"I don't understand what this is supposed to mean," John was saying to Sherlock when Molly walked in, her face still red.
"John, please, think."
Sherlock turned to look at Molly and pointed at the body.
"Tell me what you see," he grumbled and she nodded.
John looked down at the body, his muscles tightened, angry that Sherlock was being- well, himself, he supposed.
"I-is there a particular thing or am I listing it off?"
"Just." Sherlock paused for a moment, his fingers on the bridge of his nose and his eyes screwed up. "Molly. Just tell me exactly what you see."
"O-ok. Well, we already know that the man is a 34 year old, the woman is 36. The woman has had extensive plastic surgery and was poisoned. The bruises on her legs, if not made by Sherlock, indicate-"
"Bruises?" Sherlock cut her off, frowning at the body and touching the small bruises. "They're miniscule. How could- OH!"
"Sherlock, what is it?" John asked, frowning at the legs.
"JOHN! THAT'S IT! MOLLY, YOU'RE A GENIUS!" Sherlock yelled before kissing her quickly on the lips. "John, photo's, quickly! We've got to get to Scotland Yard. Molly, I need you to come as well. It's crucial that you come with us. You'll need to talk to Lestrade," Sherlock had either hand on her cheeks.
"I-I have to work…" she stuttered out feeling rather self-conscious.
"As much as I'd love to see this progress, can we please wrap it up? Molly, it'll take about half an hour, take your lunch break," John tried to which Sherlock nodded vigorously.
"I-I suppose I could…"
"Wonderful!" Sherlock beamed. "Let's go!"
He almost dragged Molly out of Bart's in his excitement and rushed over to a cab.
"Isn't this great? Us all solving crimes together?" Sherlock asked the other two as he squirmed in his seat with excitement, rubbing his hands together while he did so.
"I didn't really solve a crime with you two… I just pointed out the bruises…"
"Molly, you did so much more than point out the bruises. There mere miniscule, the size of freckles. Not even I had seen that!" Sherlock mused as the cabbie took a left ("Corners!" the childlike detective had beamed).
"They were rather obvious. I'd have thought that you would have seen them straight away. Especially because of the needles involved and-"
"Miss Hooper, please stop talking yourself down and myself up. You pointed them out when neither of us had. And they weren't on the autopsy report that we'd looked at either. I enjoy being with my friends and solving crimes. We should do this more often."
Sherlock smiled a manic smile at the doctor and the pathologist who looked at him rather blankly.
"I'm going to be blunt here, Sherlock. Your enthusiasm concerns me awfully."
Sherlock rolled his eyes, a smile still on his face."
"Oh John, you crazy doctor, my enthusiasm is rather politically incorrect, as I recall Mrs Hudson calling it one time…
"Is this what he calls hanging out with his friends?" Molly whispered to John who shrugged.
"I don't think he's had any to hang out with…" he replied.
"What are you whispering about?"
"How sad your life is," John replied, looking at the road ahead.
"'Ere we are," the cabbie sad and the trio piled out of the car, Sherlock handing the man money as he went.
~oOo~
After Sherlock, John and Molly had given their evidence and Sherlock wrapped it up with a big bow, Molly was kindly told to sod off.
John and Sherlock decided to walk back to 221B, seeing as they hadn't had lunch and Sherlock skipped breakfast.
"I can't believe you didn't see those bruises."
"Don't be daft, John. Of COURSE I saw the bruises. Who do you think I am?" Sherlock asked, a smirk on his face.
"Then why did you tell Molly that you hadn't?" he questioned.
"Because I wanted her to feel included and as though she matters to our daily routine of solving crimes. I wanted her to feel that she wasn't an extra and she is smart, because she is, John, but I don't think she feels it often enough," he sighed.
It was John's turn to smile as he looked at Sherlock.
"You actually care about her feelings? You? The infamous Sherlock Holmes? How is this even remotely possible?" he joked getting a frown in response from Sherlock.
"No need to mock me. As I've said before, Molly matters and personally, I don't think she thinks that so I'm trying to show her."
There was silence for a few moments before John chuckled.
"You know what? Today you were with all your friends. You had Molly, Greg and myself."
"Who is this Greg? Why does everyone mention him? I don't know who he's supposed to be. It's getting ridiculous," Sherlock groaned with a huge frown on his face.
"Lestrade. For a genius, you can be extraordinarily stupid sometimes." John shook his head at the end of his statement. 'He cares about Molly and her feelings,' he thought, getting a warm feeling inside, something he doubted Sherlock had ever felt.
A/N: Hey guys!
Tomorrow's prompt is 'animal ears'!
I tried a few things for this and then I thought: "what would Sherlock consider hanging out with his friends?" and I got to an investigation. As you see, I incorporated a story earlier from day 6, kissing. I hope that was as adorable as I thought it was.
Anyway, I felt that I was balderdashing the last of it just to make up words, as you notice I did indeed get to the 1,000 quota I set myself *smug grin* and I think it was somewhat for the plot. I don't know how I went for the actual prompt, the prompt being Hanging out with Friends but I think I did alright. What did you think?
Remember any review is a great review. And great reviews make my day :)
Have a nice day! x