Such a great response from you guys, I'm so happy you like the idea. Here's hoping I can keep you on board with this chapter.

And I made the Amnesia section of the sherlollylists...yay...thanks Miz. Now I'll have to look at which other trope I haven't covered yet to get on another list...any requests?

Chapter 2

As he pushed open the door he felt a sense of calm and familiarity wash over him. He saw Molly sat at one of the desks, head down, concentrating on the folder in front of her and it felt like something he had seen a thousand times before even though he had no active recollection of it.

At the sound of him entering she looked up and he saw her face light up at the sight of him before turning more questioning.

'Hey Sherlock, are you supposed to be up and about?'

'Don't you start. It was my head that got injured not my legs. John's talking about taking me out of this place tomorrow in a wheelchair which is just bloody ridiculous.'

She chuckled and he found her joy infectious.

'Listen Molly...'

'Ooh so you found out my name then...or did you remember it?' She bit her lip and looked at him eagerly and he felt sorry to have to disappoint her.

'No, no I didn't. Some guy in the corridor assumed, correctly, that I'd be looking for you. A bit chubby, dark hair, glasses...'

She nodded. 'Mike...Mike Stamford. You worked with him until I started here about five years ago. He was an old friend of Johns which is how you and John met.'

Sherlock was grateful for her filling in the blanks without him having to ask.

'Anyway, what's up? Would you like a coffee? I was just about to make one.'

He grinned at her. 'Coffee would be perfect. All they serve upstairs are endless cups of over-stewed tea.' He suddenly felt confused. 'I'm not sure how I like it...'

'Black, two sugars. I make you coffee a lot. Grab a seat, I'll be back in a minute.'

He watched as she left the room and then he wandered over to where she'd been sat looking at some of the equipment as he went.

He stopped at one of the microscopes. It had a pile of slides at the side of it and he couldn't help but sit down and pick one up. He positioned it under the scope and spent a moment adjusting the dials to bring it into focus. He marvelled again at how his mind just seemed to retain this kind of information but not his memories. He just knew how the machine worked.

He looked at the magnified image. Blood cells. They seemed to have been altered by something, some kind of poison...

'It looks like you haven't forgotten everything. That's your favourite microscope and those are the slides you were working on just before you were injured.'

He sat up and looked at her. She was leant on the desk at the side of him, two cups of coffee placed between them.

He looked back at the microscope and realised with a jolt that it was the same one from his mind palace. The one he'd seen in her room. It even had the same scratch on one of the dials.

'This was in your room...in my mind palace...' he clarified when she looked confused.

'Oh, well that would make sense. We often work in here together. Did you just want to have a look around or was there something you wanted?'

She sat down on the stool next to him and picked up her drink, blowing the steam off the top before sipping on it. He found himself caught up in watching her lips. He wondered if he had kissed them and if so how it had felt.

'Sherlock...?'

He moved his eyes up to hers and found her looking at him with concern.

'Umm, sorry...yes, I do want something. John's supposed to be taking me home tomorrow but I don't want him to...I...I want you to.'

He saw the shock on her face and guessed that this must be something he wouldn't normally ask of her.

'That is...I'm assuming you've been to my home...do you know where it is?'

She gave him a reassuring smile. 'Yes, yes I've been there. But why don't you want John to take you? I mean...he's your best friend. He lived there with you until you died.'

He reared back in shock. 'I died...what do you mean I died?'

She held her hand up, her eyes wide and she spoke in a rushed tone. 'No, I mean, you didn't actually die. It was all fake. It was a few years back, you had to pretend to be dead in order to go undercover and destroy a criminal network. You were gone for two years...John didn't know, he thought you were really dead. He was furious, but relieved, when he found out you weren't.'

'God, what kind of detective am I?'

She shrugged. 'A good one, a clever one...very clever.'

He frowned. 'Did you think I was dead?'

She shook her head. 'No, I was one of the lucky few who was in on the plan. But like I said why would you not want John to take you home?'

It was Sherlock's turn to shrug. 'I don't know. I just don't. He seems angry with me for not remembering things...like it's a personal affront to him. I...I just feel more relaxed with you. Would it help if I said please?'

She thought for a moment and then nodded her head. 'OK, I'll ring John and let him know. It'll be easier for him anyway as I know he's missed quite a bit of work so far this week. What time are you being discharged?'

He felt more relieved than he'd realised he would at her acquiescence. 'Two o'clock.'

He picked up his coffee and finished it off before standing. 'I suppose I ought to let you get back to work. But thank you for doing this Molly.'

He hesitated but then bent over to kiss her on the cheek. As soon as his lips touched her skin he had a vivid memory of having done it before.

He gasped and pulled back in shock, his fingers covering his lips.

She stood up and put her hand out. 'What? What is it? Do you remember something?'

'Yes. I've done that before...kissed you on your cheek. We were in a corridor of some kind. You were wearing a coat and a pink and purple scarf...'

'You're right. It was just after you'd returned from being dead. You were thanking me and congratulating me on my engagement to Tom.'

He felt his stomach lurch and his eyes immediately dropped to her fingers looking for an engagement or wedding ring but there was nothing there.

She must have seen because she gripped her left hand in her right nervously. 'It fell through, a while back now.' She turned away looking awkward...embarrassed. Had he split them up somehow?

'Anyway, I'll see you tomorrow.'

'Yes, tomorrow.'

Sherlock felt slightly disgruntled at how they were parting but not entirely sure what to do so in the end he made his way back up to his room.

SHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSH

The next afternoon Molly arrived just after one o'clock carrying a suit-bag and a leather hold-all.

'Hey, John put together some clothes for you. The clothes you arrived in had to be sent for cleaning and we figured you wouldn't want to be travelling back in your dressing gown.'

She smiled at him and he stood, curious to see what kind of outfits he usually wore. He hadn't really thought about that at all.

The suit bag held a dark blue suit; expensive but not as formal as his brothers. There was also a white shirt, slim fit. All good so far. Inside the hold-all was toiletries, underwear and some black leather shoes.

'You tend to wear a coat as well. A Belstaff...it's lovely, suits you, but well, it was a bit heavy to carry and we'll be in taxis most of the time...'

'It's fine Molly. I'm sure I'll cope. I'll just take a quick shower.'

She looked a little uncomfortable. 'Oh OK. I'll just go..,'

'No, can you stay...please? They're being difficult about me showering alone and I'd rather you stood guard than one of the nurses. You can wait in here, I just won't lock the door.'

She nodded and sat on the edge of the bed.

MHMHMHMHMHMHMHMHMHMHMH

Molly was finding this whole situation with Sherlock more than a little confusing. Ever since she'd heard about his injury from John she had been worrying about him. At first it was whether it had caused any serious damage to his brain and then, once they realised he had no memories of them, it was whether he would regain any and whether not having them would change him in some way.

She was glad that he still seemed very him. The way he spoke and deduced things was just as before but the biggest change seemed to be how he was reacting around both her and John. She knew that John was equal parts relieved and hurt at not being allowed to babysit Sherlock. He was angry with Sherlock for not remembering Mary, even though he knew deep down that this wasn't Sherlock's fault...and he really had been struggling to juggle Rosie, work and coming to the hospital so she was actually helping by taking Sherlock home. She wondered how he was finding it all, it must be frustrating and even frightening to not remember things.

She was soon distracted from her thoughts by Sherlock coming back in with a towel wrapped around his waist and using a second to rub his hair dry.

She was so shocked that she couldn't help but sit there and watch him for a few moments. She could see the individual droplets of water still running down his chest and over his stomach until they were lost in the folds of the towel slung low on his hips. She could even see a slight trail of black hairs...

It was only when he started using the towel to dry his chest that she realised how inappropriate it was for her to be watching him.

'I...umm...I should go wait outside. Give you some privacy.'

He shrugged. 'Don't be ridiculous. I'm sure you've seen worse in your morgue. Just turn around if you feel you need to, it doesn't bother me either way. It seems I'm not prudish about my body...all these new things I keep learning...'

She smiled nervously and then stood before turning to face the wall.

'How are you feeling about today?'

She could hear the bag being opened and items taken out.

'Relieved to be getting out of here mostly. Curious about where and how I live. I recall John said I live alone but with a landlady downstairs. Am I close to her...John certainly seemed to imply that...any previous relationship I should be aware of there?'

Molly couldn't help but laugh out loud. 'Not that I've ever heard of. No, she's more like a mother figure to you...very protective. You treat her more like your housekeeper than your landlady and she's forever telling you off for it but she still looks after you.'

'Hmm...OK. You can turn back now...I'm decent.'

Molly turned around to find that decent to Sherlock meant he had his trousers on with the fastenings hanging open and no shirt. Her eyes were drawn to his torso again. He had broad, muscular shoulders and his chest led down to a flat stomach and narrow waist.

He pulled on his shirt and did up the buttons before tucking it into the trousers and doing them up. He was just sorting out his shoes and socks when his doctor came in.

He spoke to both Molly and Sherlock about Sherlock's ongoing care and medication. He had an appointment to come back in two days to see his neurologist for more tests and still had some painkillers to help with his ongoing headaches though these were at least subsiding now. A few signatures on discharge forms and they were free to go and Sherlock was very happy that he didn't have to be wheeled out.

It was raining when they hit the street with Sherlock carrying the hold-all and Molly his suit bag. They stood on the steps of the hospital whilst Molly dug around in her handbag and found her small, telescopic umbrella and once it was up Sherlock put his arm around her shoulder so they could both fit underneath and they made their way to the taxi rank.

Hope you like the way things are progressing. In the next chapter Sherlock will get down to quizzing Molly about there relationship and that should start to set the cat amongst the pigeons. I'll try not to keep you waiting too long...you can always try and guilt trip me into posting sooner in your reviews ;) xx