Chapter Six
William stood in the morgue, enjoying the silence. He had just gotten through with a bus accident, and the flurry of dying souls had been about all that he could bear. There had been twenty-one victims in the end, which was twice his usual daily quota. The meet and greet, the constant questions; it was all he could do to not pull at his hair in frustration. He needed a break, somewhere where he wouldn't run into a single lying (or dying) person.
('Cause I just can't wait till you write me you're coming around.)
Despite the interruption of his beloved silence, William couldn't help but smile. How was it that something that would normally send him over the edge with anyone else would be something endearing when done by Molly Hooper?
(Now, I'm walking on sunshine…whoa!)
He turned as Molly entered the morgue, still singing that song in her head. It seemed to be the song she always thought of at work. Perhaps it was her favorite song. Perhaps it was the song she used to keep her mind off of her morbid job. In this instance, he had no real way or knowing the truth, but he was leaning more towards the former. She just didn't seem like she was bothered enough by her job that it was necessary to take her mind off of it.
(And don't it feel good!)
Molly moved over to one of the drawers and pulled it open, sliding the cadaver out. After much maneuvering and calling an assistant for help, the corpse was stationed on one of the autopsy tables. Molly moved over to the table, getting her instruments clean and ready.
(Such a nice name,) Molly thought absently. (So strong…William…)
William's head snapped up to her, his eyes widening.
(And those eyes…)
William allowed a smile to appear on his face, surprised to feel relief at the discovery of Molly's infatuation. Apparently, he had been worried that Molly would never feel the same way as he. That implied that he had been wanting something to happen between the two of them. Perhaps this was more than a simple attraction; perhaps his feelings ran deeper.
(I wonder if he ever thinks about me.)
William circled around the autopsy table, approaching the table where Molly stood and stepping up behind her. He leaned his head forward next to hers, peering over her shoulder to watch her work. He loved watching her work.
(Oh, don't be silly, Molly. He probably hasn't given you a second thought.)
William jerked his head to the side, staring at her in shock.
(You're just a shy little pathologist, nothing special. Why would he be interested in that?)
William frowned at that thought. Is that what she thought of herself? It was absolutely not true. Did she honestly not see how special she was?
Molly shook her head slightly. (Quit fantasizing about something that will never happen. Get back to work.) She turned and took her tray of utensils over to the autopsy table.
William stared at her, stunned at how insecure she was. Well, he was going to put a stop to it right now. He turned, relocating himself to just outside the doors of the morgue. He pushed open the door and strolled in quickly, acting as though this was where he had meant to end up.
"Oh, Molly," he said.
Molly jumped in surprise, turning quickly around towards him. "William!"
"I didn't realize you were working today," William told her. "I was looking for your employer."
"W—erm…Is there anything I can help you with?" asked Molly, stepping forward.
William pretended to consider the question for a moment. "Actually, since you're here, I was wondering if I might view an autopsy."
Molly's brows rose. "Oh." She then grimaced and looked away. "Well…I'm really not supposed to—"
"Would it help if I promised not to touch?" William asked with a smirk.
Molly blushed furiously, glancing down at her feet. (Why does he have to have such a great smile? Why?)
William stifled an amused smile. "I am actually a…" Oh, think! What was it called? "…graduate chemist. I simply want to observe."
(Oh, go on, Molly! Take a leap!)
"Okay," said Molly, giving him a smile.
William gave one back as he grabbed a stool and walked over to place it across the table from Molly. He took a seat and gestured to the corpse. "Please, do go on." He folded his arms across his chest to watch.
Molly gave a sheepish smile and stepped forward to begin the autopsy.
"I can't believe the medical examiner ruled that death as accidental," complained William.
"Anyone could see that he was poisoned," Molly agreed as the two of them walked down the street after Molly's shift.
They had ended up talking all day long, even after all the autopsies and lab work Molly had scheduled. William had started out just wanting to boost her self-esteem, but had ended up actually enjoying himself. He hadn't had this much fun since…ever.
"Exactly," said William. "They're all idiots."
Molly giggled, and William glanced over at her, smiling.
"It's true," said William. "People see, but they don't observe."
Molly shook her head a little, chuckling.
William spotted that look in her eyes, the same look that John got so often around him. "What is it?"
"Well, it's just…" began Molly. "You kind of remind me of someone."
William narrowed his eyes, flashing back to the conversation he'd had with John. "It's not Sherlock Holmes, is it?"
Molly looked up at him with a smile. "Yes, how'd you know?"
"Apparently, you're not the only one," he told her. "But can I ask you something?"
Molly gave a shrug. "Sure."
"What is it about me that reminds people of him? What do Sherlock Holmes and I have in common?"
Molly nodded, thinking it over. "Well…you're both incredibly intelligent…very observant…" She glanced nervously over at him before surging on. "And no offense, because it kind of actually suits you, but you're both kind of…" she winced, "arrogant."
William huffed out an amused chuckle. "Arrogant?"
"Well, it's just that you view yourself as superior to everyone else because of your intelligence, and it comes off as arrogant," Molly quickly explained. "The same goes for Sherlock."
William nodded. "What else?"
Molly frowned. "Hmm?"
"There's something else," William pointed out. "What is it?"
Molly smiled and shook her head. "You really are a regular Sherlock Holmes." She took a breath, raising her shoulders and then dropping them again. "The Sherlock Holmes stories are my favorites. And the way I always pictured him in my head, he…well, he kind of looked a lot like you."
William smirked. "Really?"
Molly blushed, ducking her head to avoid his gaze. "No, come on, really. The way Doyle described the character is very similar to your own features." She frowned in thought. "If I can remember correctly…tall; excessively lean; sharp, piercing eyes; prominent features; very delicate movements, as though he possessed some preternatural grace—" She immediately caught herself, her blush renewing as she looked away.
William looked away, watching the walkway in front of them as they continued on. "You admire him."
Molly paused for a moment. "Yeah, I do." She hesitated, glancing at him and then away. "I admire you, too." Her voice had been barely above a whisper, but he had heard it all the same.
"Good."
Molly's head whipped over to him, a frown on her face. "Good?"
"Yes," William told her. "I'd hate for my admiration to be unrequited." He turned his head to smile down at her.
Molly's eyes brightened as her smile widened, and they continued on down the London streets in companionable conversation.
"What is this?" Molly exclaimed, staring with wide eyes as John walked towards her in the hospital cafeteria…without a cane.
John smiled as he glanced down at his limp-free leg, setting his tray of food down on the table across from her. "I know. Incredible, isn't it?"
William smiled from his invisible seat next to them.
"I thought your leg got hurt in the war," said Molly, a frown on her face.
John sat down across from her. "Well, not really. After I got shot in the shoulder—"
Ah, shoulder! William thought. I knew it.
"—it just started hurting," John went on. "I thought that maybe it had gotten hurt somehow, but turns out, it was just psychosomatic. I should've listened to my therapist."
"So, how did this happen?" asked Molly, her meal forgotten for now.
"Actually, you have William to thank for that."
"Really?"
"Yeah, really." John shifted in his seat, preparing to tell the story. "So, he figures out who the murderer is, we head to his place, and the guy runs off, so we go chasing after him. It wasn't until the police arrested him twenty minutes later that William pointed out I had forgotten my cane in the chase."
"Huh…" said Molly, thinking for a moment. "So, you two went off to catch a murderer to solve a case…a lot like Sherlock Holmes—"
"—and Dr. Watson," John said at the same time, shaking his head. "Glad I'm not the only one."
"The only one?"
"That thinks William reminds them of Sherlock Holmes," said John.
"I know," agreed Molly. "There's just something about him." She looked down at her meal, starting to pick at it.
John watched her for a moment before moving is gaze down to the table, his eyes shifting back and forth in indecision.
William leaned forward in his seat towards him. Oh, don't do it, John. Don't do it.
John looked up at Molly. "So, I was wondering…"
William winced. Damn!
"Have you spoken to William lately?" asked John.
Molly looked up at him. "We spent most of yesterday together. Why?"
John's brows rose in surprise. "Did he talk to you?"
Molly frowned. "About what?"
"I don't know. Anything specific."
"Well…" Molly thought for a moment, "he has a brother, Michael. And they really don't get along."
John gave a little smile before shaking his head. "Well, sounds like you two had fun."
Molly smiled, getting a far-off look in her eyes. "Yeah…"
John's smile grew as he went back to his meal. As Molly shook herself and tuned into her own meal, William breathed a sigh of relief. John seemed content to leave the subject at that, stopping short of telling Molly about his love for her.
William froze, his mind jolting to a halt at that thought. Love? Had he really just said love? Since when had this turned into love?
Since yesterday.
It was true; William and Molly had grown closer yesterday. He had gotten to see the side of her he never saw when he watched over her. And she was…
"Perfect," William whispered, smiling as he reached his hand out to caress Molly's cheek.
Molly paused, glancing towards the seat in which he sat. "Did you feel that?"
John looked up at her. "Feel what?"
Molly stared at the empty seat for a moment before shaking her head. "Never mind."
William slowly lowered his hand, his heart plummeting to his feet. It didn't matter if he loved her or not. He was an angel; she was a human. It could never happen. William looked up at Molly sadly.
They could never happen.
I promise just a little more angst before things start REALLY moving.