A/N - So I continued it! Plot bunnies, is all I have to say. As always drop a review and tell me what you think! Sorry if you read this before with the awful joined words thing. Have no fear, however, the problem has been fixed. Enjoy!
Also a big thank you to my beta TruffleHead, her suggestions were awesome and appreciated! Thanks :)
Disclaimer - I do not own Sherlock.
Some three months after the fall...
Molly had just entered her new flat in Edinburgh. A new start was what she wanted, after all, and ever since she was a child she had wanted to visit Scotland. The picturesque rolling hills surrounded by veils of mist, stony castles illuminated only by the light of a candle, and the tales of elves and fairies hiding in woodland glades all had her captivated from the start.
The Scotland she was experiencing now, though, was a far cry from what she had originally envisioned. Surprisingly, Edinburgh was a lot like London. It was noisy, over-populated, and the streets were always busy. One thing that was different, however, was the smell.
London smelt of smog, carexhaust, and fresh news print mingled with disinfectant, but Edinburgh smelt fresh and... new. New, everything was new, and Molly was savouring it. New house, new job, new city, new book. The feeling was refreshing.
Molly strolled over to a box marked 'kitchen' and eagerly fetched her kettle and a box of tea bags from it. She would have to go shopping for milk sometime soon, she realised and groaned internally.
It had been a hard day of moving, and all she wanted was to slip into bed and sleep. She couldn't remember the last time she had slept, what with all the packing and organising and travelling; she simply hadn't had the time. Stumbling back into the living room, Molly sat down on her new patchwork sofa and rubbed her eyes wearily - sleep deprivation was catching up with her, but thoughts of the move just wouldn't leave her alone.
She hadn't really had time to do anything at all, not even say goodbye- well, not properly. She'd fired off an email to Mary, a friend from Bart's, saying she was leaving and promising an explanation soon, and of course she'd told Mike Stamford she would be resigning. She hadn't told Greg or John, she hadn't dared; if she let something slip, then who knows what would have happened. Besides, Molly hadn't spoken to either of them in months. Better safe than sorry, her mum had always told her. She had left her mum a voice mail; she had probably been too busy with her latest husband to pick up.
She hadleft him a note, as well. Not that he would read it, if he even found it at all. As Molly drifted off to sleep, she couldn't help but think about it. Had Sherlock found the note, after all? Had he even bothered read it, or had he been too busy?
That night she was plagued by nightmares of the raven-haired detective to whom she was invisible.
Five months after the fall...
Molly hated working in an office. Her cubicle was small and cheap, the computer on her minuscule desk never worked properly, and the plastic plant that 'decorated' her office was pathetic.
The only good thing about the office was the colour scheme. The pale grey reminded her of the morgue at Bart's. She missed being a pathologist, but a new start meant a new job.
She still worked within the medical trade, sort of. The office work was for a company who supplied medical equipment. Molly spent every Monday to Friday sorting out botched up hospital supply orders and managing complaints about the product. The job on a whole was unsatisfying and boring, but at least it was money.
Molly still kept up on her pathology by reading new medical books and papers, but it still wasn't the same. She was itching to get back in a lab, even to just take Sherlock's coffee order and be bossed around.
Molly laughed bitterly to herself. She hadn't thought of him in weeks. It was getting easier to forget, and she was, in a way, moving on. She had found a new man; his name was Steve. He was a modest civil servant, and he doted on her. He was shy and bashful, a bit like Molly really, and the two of them had started a relationship.
She had her new job, her new flat, and even a new favourite coffee shop, but she still found herself checking the newspaper for any sign of him. She would go home and watch the news for any news on him. She would listen for any rumours of a dark haired stranger roaming the streets.
Of course, there never were any, but that only made Molly all the more stressed. What if he needed her and she wasn't there?
Stop being stupid, Molly,she thought to herself, he couldn't possibly need you. He has Mycroft, after all. That man was the British government; there was nothing he couldn't do. Sherlock doesn't need bumbling Molly around anymore. She would only be getting in the way.
Molly didn't like to linger on these thoughts, not anymore. Those days were over, and now she was ready for a new adventure - a normal life.
Seven months after the fall...
Molly's life had been going from strength to strength. She had managed to get a promotion at work, and now had a real office. With four walls and a door and everything!
She had a real plant this time, too, not a plastic one. It had been a gift from Steve when she got promoted, and it sat proudly in her office alongside her recently acquired stress ball. She had been promoted to head of human resources, so instead of dealing with complaints, she was now hiring and firing. She never thought she would be the boss kind, but she actually enjoyed it. It turns out she had learned a few things from a certain consulting detective and was now a much better judge of character. That talent ( if you could call it that ) was what got her the job. She was nowhere near Sherlock's level, but she liked to think she was doing alright, nonetheless.
With a new job also came a pay rise, and she had decided to treat herself to a new wardrobe, of sorts. She still had her cardigans and blouses, but now they were teamed with pencil skirts and smart trousers. She also took to wearing small heels in order to appear more corporate. Her hair now had some caramel highlights in it, and she had to admit she felt good. She felt less like a child trying to fit into an adult's world and more like a woman standing on her own two feet - oh great, she was becoming a cliché.
She had also gotten used to Edinburgh in the months she had stayed there. She knew which places to avoid, and which bakery sold the best cakes. Molly was also getting to grips with some Scottish slang, with some help from Steve, and she had to admit that she could understand local people a whole lot better.
Soon enough, she settled into a routine. She would get up in the morning, have a shower, make breakfast, watch the news, and then head to work. At the office, she would sit at her desk for a few hours, go to lunch, spend a few hours in meetings, and then go back home again where Steve could usually be found making dinner in her flat's small kitchen.
It was a Tuesday when she first heard. She was standing by the water cooler, fetching herself a fresh glass, when a colleague tapped her on the shoulder.
"Hey, have you heard about that guy?" her colleague asked. She vaguely remembered that her name was Rachel from a meeting a few months back.
"Sorry, who?" she answered. Molly did not want to get caught up in office gossip, and if that's where this was heading, she'd have to get away, fast. She had learnt very early on not to hang about the water cooler, as that's where the 'gossipy gang' would hang about.
"You know, Sherlock Holmes, the consulting detective. Rumour has it he's back." Whispered Rachel, as if it were a terrible secret.
"What?" Molly mumbled, as she paled and brought a hand to her mouth.
"Yeah, apparently that Moriarty guy was real, so Sherlock's been put back on cases and everything. I saw it on the news this morning."
"Are you sure?" Molly asked quickly.
"Course I'm sure, are you alright? You don't look so good."
"I'm fine, I'll, eh, see you around."
And with that, Molly left, glass of water forgotten.
She raced back to her office and shut the door behind her. It couldn't be, after all these months. Of course Molly knew it was inevitable that Sherlock would return, but she had never let herself imagine it. She never thought the day would come when he would be back.
Molly collapsed in her office chair and took a deep breath. It had nothing to do with her anymore; she didn't care. She had a new life, and she didn't need Sherlock Holmes to remind her of her old one.
She spied the computer out of the corner of her eye, and quickly switched it on to look for the latest news broadcasts. Sure enough, there he was 'Genius Detective Rises From The Dead '. He'd made front page news. Show-off. Molly stared at the image for a long time before her office phone went off.
"Hello, Molly Hooper speaking. Yes, of course, I'll be right there."
Molly turned off her computer and gathered herself. Her life was much better now and this new development didn't change a thing, not one thing.
Or, at least that was what she told herself.