She can put a smile on his face.
He didn't know, how she did it. He learnt how to display a fake smile at a dull and ridiculous joke and when someone said something genuinely nice to him.
"Hello, Molly Hooper," he said, trying to sound polite and professional as he entered the morgue. The way her name sounded with her surname attached to it made Sherlock, in confused realization, want to repeat her name over and over again.
"Hi," Molly squeaked. "You came to see the body of mister Roosevelt, I presume?"
"You presume right," Sherlock nodded. "May we see it?"
"It's already wheeled out," Molly pointed to the zipped up body in the middle of the room. "I'll be right with you, just give me a second."
She left the room and John and Sherlock went to see the body. Sherlock unzipped it and looked at the dead man's face. Or what was left of it. It was all more like a skull with some tissues still hanging on the bones.
"What exactly happened to him?" John asked. Even though he was a doctor and he saw many incredibly disgusting things in his life, this was a whole new level.
"He was attacked by a bunch of rats," said a familiar, and incredibly irritating voice. Both of the men turned and saw Anderson walking towards them.
"I didn't know your family was in the murdering business," replied Sherlock with a cold voice earning a death glare from Anderson with great satisfaction.
"And I didn't know you could be such a funny guy, Sherlock," Anderson said just in time Molly had walked back in.
"Molly, what is this clown doing here?" Sherlock childishly demanded.
"This clown," Molly gladly repeated Sherlock's insult as she glanced sharply towards her colleague, "is apparently the head pathologist during this case. I'm only assisting him." Unfortunately. Her professionalism kept her from saying the last word, no matter how much she wanted to say it and how much it would make Sherlock happy if she would.
Taking closer look at the body, Sherlock made his deductions.
"Where does he work?" he asked.
"In a factory, where we found him," Anderson replied. "The rats attacked him in a small room in the basement."
"Well, you are looking at someone rather big and strong," Sherlock announced. "Narrow it down to people that would be able to carry him. Seeing he was overweight, the man was supposed to be very strong to carry him."
"What do you mean?" Molly asked, hoping to hear more of his deep voice.
"The man was dead before the rats got to him," he said and circled around the forehead, where the skull was cracked. "I would guess he hit his head and died. The man with him got scared and carried – yes, carried, not dragged, which is why he doesn't have any bruises or cuts from being dragged on the rough floor – him to the basement where rats found a new meal."
"You actually saved us all days of work," Molly gratefully smiled at him. "It would take much longer to figure out what happened to him, since his body was in this horrible state when they found him."
"Well, since that is established and we will obliviously be able to have the night off," Anderson said, turning towards Molly, trying to, for once, show off in front of Sherlock. "What do you say we go and get some dinner, Molly?"
"Well," Molly said, a bit embarrassed at first, but then she continued in a confident, not her-like way. "Considering your proposal, which you made while we're standing above a dead body, I think I'd rather die."
Sherlock's eyes widened and a smile crept on his lips when Molly humiliated the man he hated. Even John raised his eyebrows when he heard the more confident side of Molly.
"I believe you aren't needed here anymore, Anderson," Sherlock said.
"Neither are you, Sherlock," Anderson commented.
"You're absolutely right," Sherlock said, wanting to leave as soon as possible, since he wasn't able to get the smile of his face. "Goodbye, Molly."
John followed him out and smirked smugly as he saw his friend's face.
"She has that effect on you, doesn't she?" he asked knowingly, still noticing a smile on Sherlock's face.
"What effect?" Sherlock furrowed his eyebrows, his smile finally disappearing.
"Oh, I think you know," John said and went on, sniggering quietly at the clueless face of Sherlock Holmes.
Sherlock stood still for a while and then followed the doctor, with a smile creeping on his lips once again.
No one could ever make Sherlock genuinely smile. But Molly did ...
Sometimes.
