Wooing Molly Hooper
Chapter One
It started with a single flower.
Dr. Molly Hooper had just returned from lunch, ready to get started on her next autopsy, when she spotted the flower lying on one of the lab benches. The eight inch bloom was shaped like a trumpet, its six white petals curving outwards from a green center with several long white stamens. It was the thick stem that helped Molly remember that this was called an amaryllis.
Molly stared at it for a moment before frowning and stepping up to the bench. She picked the amaryllis up and saw that a card had been lying under it. The paper looked like aged parchment paper, and the ink pen used to write the note made it appear, to the untrained eye, that it was written with a quill.
Molly picked the card up and read it.
"To Molly Hooper
From a Dear Friend"
She looked around her, wondering if this mysterious admirer were waiting somewhere for her. But no one was around.
She reached down and picked the amaryllis back up, putting it to her nose and smiling. She headed into her little office, coming to a stop when she saw a moderately sized, clear glass vase standing at the ready on her desk next to her computer monitor. It was even filled with water already.
Not sure whether to be flattered or disturbed, Molly chose the former and placed the amaryllis in the vase.
It didn't stop there. When Molly came into work the next morning, there was another flower waiting for her, this time on an autopsy table. This one had multiple small blooms on a single stem, its lilac petals surrounding small lilac stamens. Molly didn't know the name of this flower, but it made her smile all the same. There was another vintage-looking note with it, this one simply signed, "A Dear Friend."
It continued in this vein for the rest of the week. Sometimes, the flower would be in the lab, sometimes, it was in the morgue, and sometimes, her office. One day, it would be waiting for her when she walked into work, and another after her lunch break.
On Wednesday, it was a carnation. It was the most unique carnation she had ever seen. The petals were deep orange with vivid yellow edges.
On Thursday, it was a strange looking yellow one. It was a single stem with multiple smaller stems branching from the top. There were twenty to fifty yellow flowers on each small stem. It almost looked like some strange antenna.
On Friday, it was another strange but beautiful flower. There were five red petals that were shaped like long, thin leaves at the back of the bloom and five yellow petals shaped like circles grouped together and facing forward in front of the red petals. The yellow petals extended past the red ones, coming to points at the back of the flower. Small, yellow stamens sat in the middle of the pale yellow petals.
Friday was also the first day Sherlock Holmes and Dr. John Watson visited the lab. Sherlock was occupying himself with some experiment or other at his usual microscope while John visited with Molly. Rosie was with Mrs. Hudson today, the elderly Baker Street landlady not having spent time with her in a couple of weeks.
Molly was enjoying the visit; she'd been so busy with work and family lately that she hadn't hung out with many of her friends. It didn't hurt that she was in a great mood from the idea of the man somewhere out there who was apparently wooing her. She even found herself humming when the conversation lulled.
"You're in a good mood, Molly," John suddenly said.
Molly glanced up at him from her work at the lab bench, her humming coming to a stop.
"Could that have something to do with the flowers there on your desk?" John asked with a sly smile.
Molly looked back through the doorway into her office, seeing the five flowers in their vase. She smiled and looked back at John, her smile growing. "Maybe."
"Who gave them to you?" asked John.
"I don't know," Molly replied.
John frowned. "How can you—"
"She has a secret admirer, John," Sherlock spoke up from his seat at his microscope. "Do keep up."
John glanced at him and then back to Molly. "Really? A secret admirer?"
Molly smiled sheepishly. "Yeah…"
"Any idea who it is?" John wondered.
Molly shook her head. "None. There's just been a different flower in the morgue, lab, or office when I either come into work or come back from lunch all week long."
"Obviously, it's either someone you are very closely acquainted with or someone who works in the hospital to be able to work around your schedule so well," Sherlock speculated. He switched the slides on the microscope and began adjusting the knobs on the sides. "But without any further data, it's impossible to deduce who it might be."
Molly hesitated. If anyone could find out who her mystery man was, it was Sherlock Holmes. But did she really want him involved? If this secret admirer was truly the one for her, did she want Mr. Sherlock I'll-Do-Anything-to-Keep-My-Pathologist-At-My-Beck-and-Call Holmes searching him out? Then again, look at how he had behaved concerning Tom. Sure, he didn't appear enthusiastic, but he never once did anything to jeopardize their relationship. Other than existing, of course. If this man was worth it, Sherlock would stay out of it.
"Actually, he's left notes in his handwriting—" Molly began.
Sherlock's gaze darted up to hers, the spark of a new mystery lighting in his eyes. "Oh, he left notes! Brilliant!" He pushed up from the bench and hurried into Molly's office, quickly locating the notes she had saved. He analyzed the paper and ink momentarily before taking photos of them with his phone. He then strode back into the lab, heading for where his coat and scarf were lying on a stool. "I already have seven candidates—eight; he used a Faber Castell!" He flung his coat on, tying his scarf around his neck. "I should have the case solved by the end of the day."
And with that, he headed out the door, leaving them in stunned silence.
"Well…" sighed John, running his hand through his hair, "at least he's preoccupied now." He looked over to see that Molly was still staring after Sherlock, worrying at her bottom lip. "Do you want me to tell him to drop it?"
Molly hesitated before turning to John. "No, no, it's okay. I know how to handle him if it gets out of hand."
John smiled and nodded at that, no doubt remembering the times Molly had raised her voice (and sometimes hand) to the consulting detective. "Do you want to know who it is?"
Molly paused, thinking about it. "I actually don't know. Do I want to be forewarned, or do I want to be surprised?"
John looked at the doors through which Sherlock had disappeared and then back at Molly. "I'll have a talk with him. Tell him to make sure you want to know before he just comes barging in spouting names."
Molly smiled gratefully at him and resigned herself to waiting for Sherlock to solve the case.