Slow & Steady

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Molly couldn't quite put her finger on Hamish. He was many things, she observed. When he smiled it was genuine and adoring. When he looked at you with those honey orbs he was giving you all of his attention. And when he spoke it was gentle and sweetly caressing your ear drums. He was just... grand!

He was the very thing Molly had always seen on the tube, magazines, and on billboards littered across the city. She was right on her first conclusion: he was perfection incarnated.

It must be something, Molly threw around her head. To be so perfect. What was it like to get up in the morning and not have to do anything save put on clothes, spruce up your hair, and walk out the door? If anything, Molly looked up to the older pathologist. He rather inspired her on her walk to a 'womanly confidence'.

They had established a sort of friendly relationship. The were not yet close of friends but close acquaintances. She rather liked that too! Having someone around her age group being so friendly and relaxed around. Molly wasn't sure when she'd ever experienced something so normal in her life.

"What's it like being married to him?" Hamish had asked her one day with a curious tone of voice. "Sherlock, I mean." He never missed a beat as he wrote down on the death certificates.

To be honest, Molly wasn't even sure she knew the answer to that question herself. Wasn't her detective of a husband a lot of things in his own right also? Molly took her time to think of the right adjectives to describe her... peculiar spouse.

"He's intimidating," Molly began at first and noticed when Hamish gave her a sort of unsure glance. He'd probably expected her to gush and describe how she doted on his every whim and command. He probably expected her to be in married bliss—typical.

"It's difficult to describe him. In fact, he's quite difficult himself." Molly laughed at the image of a frowning Sherlock. "But I feel as if I can't really blame him for that at times."

"Sounds rather intense between you two." Hamish grinned.

"I guess it is." Molly smiles, lowers her head and pulls a strand of hair behind her ear. "I've always liked Sherlock in a way that was more than like itself." she felt stupid now for rambling away.

"Ahh," Hamish pulled his glasses from his face and looked up at the woman. "You were always in love with him, weren't you?" It was the way that he said it that had Molly feeling a shiver go down her spine and her face turning pink.

"It was when I saw him at this get-together his parents invited my family to. He had a frown on his face all day and I was so scared to talk to him." a laugh finally erupted from the female pathologist's mouth and her eyes crinkled at the memory. "I swear it was the ugly sweater my mother gave me that had everyone in such a sour mood that day."

The male's face contorted to that of almost a pained expression before he burst out in laughter and threw his head back. "I believe all ugly sweaters put people in a very sour disposition whatever time of the year."

Their laughter echoed around them and the two found a moment of peace in the dreary morgue. Early that day they had came to a conclusion: Death was working over time or at least... over compensating for the little deaths this year in Britain.

It seemed as if riots were spontaneously starting from out of no where and from either sides. Both young and old were suddenly in each others face with a fist or a bat. There had also been a recent string of robberies and hit-and-runs. So many unfortunate bodies were piling up in the morgue and Molly was surprised she still managed to get home in a decent hour and in one piece. The recent tragedies had Molly coming to terms that maybe this was the case that Sherlock had been so intent and distracted on. It was probably him being thoughtful and showing mercy by not telling his wife that she would probably be more than busy the upcoming weeks.

Still, so many things didn't seem to add up with the case. A lot of the situations didn't connect or relate in any way. And the suspects of either situations seemed to still be elusive as ever.

"Do you need me to walk you home?" Hamish had asked when their shift had ended at 9:30PM. Both pathologists were snugly wrapped in their winter coats and scarves. Hamish wore a tan colored trench coat and had a red and black patterned yarn scarf wound around his neck with the ends hanging off his shoulders on either side. He still looked lovely.

"Oh, no, please!" Molly exclaimed loudly and smiled. "It's fine, really! I'll just walk down to the cafe at the curb and take a taxi home." She would never live it down, she guessed. If Hamish walked her home and everyone in the neighborhood saw, especially Sherlock, he'd probably rake her over the coals in the most horrible of ways he knew how.

It would only get worse if her parents and in-laws found out, which she was sure they would. Someone would probably gossip about a 'secret love affair of the new Mrs. Holmes' to the press and local tabloids. Her life would most likely be screwed both ways then.

"Alright, then. Stay safe and be careful, yes? You heard about those robberies—especially on women. Be a shame if you ended up... well, on the deceased list." Hamish's concern was met with a hand on his arm and Molly confidently smiling up at him, she was such a small sweet thing.

"Go home, Hamish. Your wife is waiting for you." and with that Molly backed up, turned around and began to stride down the side-walk. Her feet were quick to move and for a moment she turned partially around to see if Hamish was still there... a taxi sped off into the distance, and Molly sighed.

As Molly hopped-and-skipped the rest of the way down to the cafe she never expected to be watched from the distance.

Never expected to be watched at all.

I'm sorry to have kept everyone waiting. I had about 3 different ways I wanted to go with this chapter but I finally came to a satisfied decision, haha! I would have uploaded this two days ago but there was a really bad typhoon here and it knocked out our internet. Really bad winds and everything!

As always, love to hear your feedback and c.c.'s :D Leave the flaming marshmallows at the door!

Oh, and a wonderful shout out to those who have guessed Sherlock's disguise and I will dedicate a chapter to those of you that explains everything in the near future. However, the reason you may have originally thought of for his disguise is not-so. Things will unravel with time and patience :0 Really sorry to those who thought it was Sebastion or even Jim. Even though I like my delusional insane men as much as the next person they will not make an appearance in this fanfic.

Also, another wonderful shout out to my readers from all over the world. Makes my heart warm that this has become such an international affair.

P.S. If you are interested, the title is also the name of the song by 'Sleeping At Last' that has gotten me really revved up and inspired.