Molly Hooper sat at her desk in St. Bart's empty morgue. The hospital had closed hours ago; it was only Dr. Hooper and the decaying bodies. Her eyes were damp and red, but she was smiling. She held a picture frame in her smooth palms. Flashback: 20 years ago.
Molly stood in the flat cradling the newborn Scarlett in her arms. She hadn't stopped crying since she woke up. "Shhhh," Molly soothed. She had tried everything else in the book.
Suddenly, Sherlock Holmes walked in through the doorway. "Hello, Molly," he said hanging up his coat and scarf. He didn't even acknowledge his crying daughter.
"Thank goodness your here, Sherlock," Molly puffed. Sherlock only looked at her kindly. He walked over and took Scarlett in his arms. As soon as she was against his chest, she stopped crying immediately.
Molly smiled. "Of course, she's such a daddy's girl." Sherlock took the baby down to her nursery in what used to be John Watson's bedroom. Molly followed. He lied Scarlett down in her white crib. The baby's little hands reached up to the swirling mobile above her head.
"Thank-you again for looking after while I was out, Molly," said Sherlock.
"No thanks needed. I love staying with Scarlett," said Molly. "Where were you anyway?"
Sherlock looked away, biting his lip. "Just out," he answered quietly. He looked back into Molly's face than back to Scarlett. He sighed. "You are the only thing she will ever have to a mother."
"That's a compliment to me, Sherlock. It always has been." Sherlock walked Molly to the door where he helped her with her coat. "So will I see you and Scarlett tomorrow?"
"Defiantly," said Sherlock. "I will never be able to repay you for all that you have done. Good-bye, Molly." Sherlock did something he had only done a few times in his life. He bent down a kissed Molly on the cheek.
One year later, Molly woke up in her flat and smiled. It was a special day. She got dressed as normal and just as she was about to walk out the door she remembered something. Molly hurried back into her bedroom and rummaged through her closet. She checked the top shelf and dug through dusty boxes. Finally she got down on her knees and crawled to the very back of the tiny room. Molly found a small black bag on the floor and lifted out. She unzipped the bag and inside was shiny camera. It had been a gift from her sister and was still partially untouched. She put the camera back into the bag and carried out the door with her.
About ten minutes later the cab let Hooper out at Baker Street. She trotted up the front steps and let herself in. Molly entered the flat to see Sherlock was Scarlett on his knee. The child looked beautiful with her pale face, red lips, and black curly hair coming in thickly.
"There's the birthday girl!" Molly exclaimed. She picked up Scarlett and swung her through the air, Scarlett giggled the whole time. Sherlock was even smiling. "Where's Mrs. Hudson?"
"Preparing a 'surprise,'" Sherlock said sarcastically.
Molly rolled her eyes. "That's right it's a surprise, so at least act that way."
Minutes later Mrs. Hudson emerged from the kitchen with a birthday cake with 'Happy First, Scarlett!' written on it in green frosting. The company sat around the living area watching Scarlett smear the sweet dessert on her face. Molly was constantly wiping off her face.
There were no gifts, to her surprise but she knew Sherlock too well. As soon as she would return the next day there would be a new toy in Scarlett's arms. Before long, Scarlett has asleep in Sherlock's arms. A question has been pulling on Molly's jumper since she had woken up this morning.
"Why didn't you invite John, Sherlock?" she asked.
"He has his family and I have mine," was the only answer she got. The smile showed though, Sherlock had meant she was a part of his family. "You two are family. Deep down you still love him like a brother more than you love your real brother."
Sherlock found it hard to respond. If only she knew the truth, he thought. If only I could tell her about the deal I made.
"I'm sure he could have found it in his day to just stop by," Molly continued.
"I'm sure he could," he said. Molly knew she really couldn't argue any longer. Sherlock stood up and took Scarlett down the hall. After a while he didn't come back.
"Sherlock?" Molly called quietly as she too stalked down the hallway. She pushed the nursery door open farther. She covered her mouth. Sherlock had fallen asleep on the small couch that had been put in there a new months ago. His head was propped on a stuffed bunny and Scarlett lie asleep on his chest. A tear flooded Molly's eye but it didn't fall out. She dashed quickly back to the living room.
Molly took the camera from its black case. She crept back through the flat, and took the picture. That day she got the filmed developed and framed. Everyday since, Molly looked at that picture and everyday it was he constant reminder that Sherlock Holmes and his daughter had at one time been human.