Molly Hooper had a good life. Fantastic even, she would go as far to say. There was something missing though, she just couldn't quite put her finger on what.

Which was what she mulling over that rainy afternoon, when Mycroft Holmes stepped into the morgue.

Mycroft took in Molly Hooper standing in front of him, elderly man laid out on the autopsy table, Molly with one hand raised holding a scalpel as if she was about to cut into the him, with a faraway look in her eyes.

He cleared his throat.

Molly jumped up in surprise, dropping the scalpel and managing to knock over a tray of medical tools in the process.

"Mr. Holmes! I'm sorry, you've startled me." Molly, embarrassed, dropped to her knees to grab the offending items.

"Yes, clearly."

"Is there something I can assist you with? Are you helping Sherlock on his case?" Molly had gathered the tray and was in the process of obtaining new, sterilized tools in replacement.

"Ah, no, not Sherlock's case, however I would like your assistance in something of an urgent matter." Mycroft looked down at his umbrella, twirling it slightly as he spoke.

"Of course, anything." Molly turned to him then and gave an honest smile, still curious.

"Fantastic, Anthea will be by your place this Friday evening then, with an outfit for you to wear." Without waiting for Molly to respond, he turned on his heel and was a step away from the door when she spoke.

"With all due respect Mr. Holmes, I think I'll require a little more information than that; especially if it involves new clothes." Molly crossed her arms over chest, a defiant look on her face.

Mycroft was taken aback; he hadn't expected her to question it, merely... Go along.

"Ah well," Mycroft cleared his throat again, uncomfortable with being questioned. "There is a function I will be going to on Friday evening, around eight o'clock, that requires me to bring a... Companion."

"Wait a moment, are you asking me on a...date?" Molly's face had grown red.

"I require a companion..."

"A date." Molly interrupted.

"Yes, fine, a date," Mycroft rolled his eyes. "So it's set, you have your information. I'll see you Friday." Mycroft turned again towards the exit.

"No, not quite," Mycroft closed his eyes and took a deep breath, turning around slowly.

"Sorry?"

"As you should be, you didn't properly ask me." Molly's voice shook slightly, but managed to maintain her stand.

"Ah, yes. Well, Miss Hooper, will you do me the honour and join me this Friday evening?" Mycroft was proud of himself, and quite confident, so her answer came as a bit of a surprise.

"No."

Mycroft stood there for a few moments, mouth dropped open as he watched Molly go back to cleaning her tools.

"But, you said of course, anything." Mycroft had never been so confused in his life. Honestly, this is why he had never dabbled in dating before now. Women were utterly confusing.

"I said yes When I thought it had to do with a case, not when you demand I accompany you to a function. I've been pushed around enough by one Holmes brother; I will not be pushed around by you either." Molly's voice continued to grow stronger as she made her point.

"Very well Miss Hooper, good day." Mycroft strode out of the morgue then, ignoring Anthea's mocking smile as he passed her in the hallway.

"Not a word, Anthea."

"Of course not, Sir." Mycroft saw the smile grow out of the corner of his eye.

Mycroft grabbed his phone while he settled into the back of his town car, and scrolled until he found a familiar name.

I will convince you Miss Hooper, see you Friday. - MH