Thus began the period in John & Sherlock's relationship that John referred to as "A Study in Weird." Sherlock, for the next two days, never left the flat. He was constantly on the computer, looking up various dating advice. It was mostly rubbish.
He knew that this would be difficult, but he was certainly up to the challenge. Every time he thought about how Molly stabbed Moran, it acted as incentive to continue on this trajectory. Every time he thought about her smiling at him...it behaved as an acute stimulant. He had no idea he was so far gone. Blast it. How he longed to be his old self, but John was right. It was time. And he'd be collecting 100 quid to boot.
On the third day, god created morning & evening. And so it was, that that evening, Sherlock showered, tousled his hair in the sexiest way he possibly could, & wore a blue shirt to accent his eyes. He thought that perhaps he should bring Molly something, but it wasn't his intention to ask her out just yet. There would be little hope for success. No, he meant to confuse her ever so slightly, to make her doubt her resolve. He knew how to woo a woman, he had done it before, albeit quite some time ago. He wasn't completely daft in that area. Just marginally so.

Molly Hooper had had three dates in as many days. Though none of these dates were much fun, per se, it was nice to not have to worry about dinner after work. It was nice to receive so much attention. She smiled to herself. She felt pretty. Interesting. Desirable. Her makeup & clothing reflected her inner confidence. She wore a bit of blusher, some lipstick. Done her hair a touch differently. She was wearing more flattering clothes. New bra & underwear - the sexy stuff she never bothered with before.
She had no date tonight. Paul, the date from two nights previous was her favorite by far, but he was out of town for the next few days. He promised to call when he returned. She was in the morgue, half reflective, half writing a report, when she heard the door open. She didn't look up. She could tell by the pace who it was. How tedious, & yet, it had been a few days since he barged into her flat. She supposed she was over it.
"Hello Sherlock," she said, still not looking up.
"Hello Molly."
At this, she raised her eyes. Well, he looked...different.
"What can I do for you?"
"I have these samples. I was wondering if you might allow me access to the lab." He held up a bag.
He's never asked before. "Sure. Go right in."
He smiled & entered the adjacent lab.
Molly paused ever so slightly at the scene just played. John, she thought. He's been talking to John & John told him he was a prat. Sherlock was feeling guilty. He was afraid he would lose his lab privileges. Well, Molly had no intention of impeding his work. She was quite content not to give a damn.

Sherlock was in the lab, setting up the scene. He smirked as he knocked over one of the samples, sending it crashing to the floor.
Molly called in, "Everything alright?"
"Well, actually, some help would be desirable."
Molly sighed. She went to procure some cleaning products, a broom, a dustpan, & a bin.
She entered the lab, watching Sherlock gingerly pick up broken glass.
"Here, let me help you." She knelt beside him. They began cleaning the floor in tandem. Sherlock noticed where Molly's hands were working, & moved his own hands in that direction. He deliberately brushed his fingers along the side of her hand. He made no indication to suggest that he meant to do that, or that he hadn't. But Molly noticed, & she moved slightly away from him.
When they had finished, they got up, Molly throwing away the bits of glass & paper towel.
"Thanks Molly. I've mucked this up. I'll need to prepare these over again. Perhaps I can return tomorrow?"
"If you like."
"I'll do that then. Goodnight."
"Goodnight, Sherlock."
And he left. Molly shook her head. She rather wished he'd just leave her alone. Particularly because when he touched her hand, a slight shock was registered in her mind. A warm, delightful shock. An irksome, inconvenient one, too.