As promised: a longer chapter. :) Enjoy!

With a sigh the pathologist walked through the swinging doors at Bart's. She was happy to have ended her job for today at last. It's been a rather dull day; three natural causes, not a single murder or anything interesting today. She flipped her hair out of her face and opened her bag clumsily to search for her car keys. The bag, however, was heavy and big and uncontrollable, so even Molly wasn't surprised when it dropped on the floor, all its content spreading over the floor. She sighed again. Blasted day it had been, she could handle this too. She knelt down and started to gather all her possessions slowly, putting it back in the bag. When her eyes met the black, smart shoes standing in front of her and her gaze trailed up, noticing the tight black trousers, her humiliation was complete. Even a day like this could always get worse. She decided not to say anything, and just carried on with collecting her items. Suddenly her fingers brushed against pale long fingers. Her head jerked up, her shy eyes met the beautiful grey ones from the man opposite her. Her jaw dropped and eyes widened as Sherlock, of course, who else, picked up the dropped files and little make-up mirror.

"Here, luckily it's not broken," Sherlock commented, handing her the mirror.

"Th-thank you," she stammered insecurely, taking the little thing from his slender fingers. Shite, why did she always stammer like that!

To her great astonishment, Sherlock smiled at her and helped her back on her feet.

"You're welcome, Molly," the deep baritone answered.

Molly straightened her back and brushed her blonde, loosened hair out of her flushed face, trying to find something to say, wondering why Sherlock didn't say anything unkind the way he always did.

When she didn't say anything, Sherlock again smiled and walked away, heading for the morgue. Molly stood like frozen, unable to move, thousands of possible questions running through her mind. Suddenly she realised she should grab her chance now the opportunity lay bare before her, within grasp. She spun around on her feet, grabbing her heavy bag in the process, and quickly ran after the consulting detective. Upon hearing her footsteps, Sherlock again turned around, a questioning look on his handsome face.

"Well, I was ju-just wondering where John was." Molly desperately asked the first thing that came in mind.

Sherlock looked puzzled, and opened and shut his mouth, making himself look like a goldfish. Molly smiled suddenly, and felt not as nervous anymore. That's strange… she always felt nervous around Sherlock.

"Erm, John is at, erm… Baker Street," Sherlock stuttered.

Stuttered! He never did that! "Oh." Oh! What kind of answer was that? "Did you come here for something special?" Molly bravely asked, monitoring his features sharply.

"Yes, I would love to have some fingers or something else. Anything will do actually. He wasn't very precise."

"He?" Molly lifted her eyebrow questioningly.

"The experiment," Sherlock hastened himself to rectify.

"Ah, of course. Well, I think I have something that will do, but it won't be fingers, sorry," Molly blushed again and walked ahead of Sherlock, towards the morgue. She was jumping inside. If she didn't misread the signals, she might even have a chance today! This was good, as today she had sworn herself to get over Sherlock, and move on. It must have been a gift from heaven. She giggled; it was all very fairytale-y.

"Oh, well, it doesn't matter. As I said: anything will do." Sherlock walked behind her, silently cursing himself. He had to behave like Sherlock, but that was harder than he had thought. He really liked Molly, and even admired her now and then. She always accepted the cruel remarks with great dignity and endurance.

Molly flipped on the cold fluorescent lamps in the morgue and opened a couple of drawers. When she turned back to face Sherlock, he noticed the smile in her eyes. He swallowed hard, something Molly didn't fail to notice. Of course, John knew Molly was ill-treated all the time, but it was kind of heart-breaking to see how she responded to some kind words and gestures from the man she thought to be Sherlock. He really had to point this out to Sherlock; he really couldn't be allowed to continue like this.

"Sherlock?" Molly's soft question interrupted his thoughts, while she held out a plastic bag filled with some red substance.

"What's this?" Sherlock asked.

Molly, again, lifted her eyebrow. "Don't you know? It's a gall bladder and a liver."

"Ah, of course it is," Sherlock answered a tiny bit too fast, and way too kindly. John had noticed it too. He really had to try harder.

"Ah, thank you, Molly. I would appreciate some coffee though, might stay here for a while longer," he said, harshly all of a sudden.

Molly's face fell a bit, her shoulders lowered, but she bravely continued to face the detective. "Of course, I'll get it in a minute."

He sat down behind a random microscope, while Molly left the morgue. He didn't feel too happy about all this but he knew he had to keep up the charade.

When Molly returned, she found Sherlock fiddling with the microscope, looking at some obscure green foam in a petri dish.

"How's the experiment going on?" Molly asked, putting down the cup carefully. "It's black with two sugars, by the way," she added.

"Fine," Sherlock mumbled, ignoring the steaming coffee.

Molly remained silent afterwards and sat down beside the raven-haired man, admiring his silhouette and soft black curls.

"Molly, you're staring," came the harsh deduction. There, that sounded more like Sherlock.

"Oh, sorry," Molly quickly apologised, fixing her eyes on her shoes immediately.

"No, it's… fine."

"Do you need anything?" Molly asked.

"No."

"What exactly are you doing?"

"I need to know how this… develops, but I need a Bunsen burner." It was called like that, wasn't it?

"Oh, I'll get it for you."

When she returned with the burner in her hands, he took it without any "thank you", no matter how hard he had to fight the urge to say it anyway. Sherlock wouldn't, so I wouldn't.

When Molly stood up to take off her coat, Sherlock quickly stood up too, force of habit, and helped her to get rid of the coat. But when he held the soft cloth in his hands, he realised Sherlock would never do such a thing. Instead of laying it on one of the tables, he carelessly flung it on the ground and returned to his microscope, trying to look impressive and very busy, but in fact he had no idea what he was doing.

When Sherlock was apparently done with his research, he rose and lifted his black coat from the nearby chair. He looked down at Molly who stared back at him.

"Erm…" he mumbled, looking like he had some difficulty trying to find the words.

"Good luck with the liver and gall-thing," Molly whispered, pointing at the plastic bag.

"Yes, thank you." He picked it up and looked at the pathologist again.

There hung an awkward silence between the two of them, and suddenly John found himself attacked by Molly. To be more precise: her left hand in his hair, her right hand around his waist UNDER his jacket. Her lips were on his, pressing lightly, moving gently, her hands clinging unto his hair. All kinds of thoughts passed through his head, but the one that remained was: O my god, what did I do wrong!

As suddenly as Molly started the kiss, so abruptly did she end it. She looked at him expectantly, her eyes wide, lips slightly parted, chest heaving from emotions.

She noticed that Sherlock swallowed again and tried to glue a meaning to that. Sherlock cleared his throat and said: "okay… that was a nice… erm… experiment."

"Experiment?" Molly spit out, disbelief written all over her face.

"Yes. Did you like it?" John inwardly bit his lip, trying to keep back a giggle. This was a ridiculous situation; he couldn't wait to tell Sherlock.

"Yes." John tried really hard to think of something. "It's obvious you are in love with me, so I wanted to know how you would respond to me being all, erm, nice and kind to you." Hmm... Lying was getting better. He should be worried about that.

"An experiment?" Molly repeated softly, just for herself.

He nodded. Oh, this was just plain ridiculous. He had to go away from here.

"Well, Molly. I'll see you soon. Thanks for the… liver and bladder thing. Laters!" and he quickly exited the morgue, leaving a very confused Molly who was sure she hadn't imagined all those signals. There definitely was something wrong with Sherlock. Maybe he was ill or something.

Then she shrugged, and mumbled softly: "well, it's not as if he was such a good kisser." She turned off the lights and closed the door behind her. It was time to go home.

"You took your time," Sherlock commented as soon as John came walking through the door. He looked at his friend and saw it immediately. "Oh, John! What did you do to Molly?"

John sank down on the sofa and closed his eyes, covering them with his right hand. "I honestly don't know, Sherlock. I just… helped her with her bag which she had dropped, and asked for some things. Here," he said when he dropped the plastic bag in Sherlock's lap. "Hopefully you enjoy it."

Sherlock sprang to his feet and opened the bag, delight readable in his eyes, like a small kid. "Thanks John! This is great."

"Molly kissed me, Sherlock. She kissed me like a grown-up woman!"

"Of course she did, she is a grown-up woman."

John sighed deeply. "I mean, she really loves you. Just treat her a little kinder, will you?"

Sherlock turned towards his friend, his eyebrows raised. "Why are you saying this?"

"Oh, don't bother. I will remain in this house, in my bedroom, until we have un-swapped. If you need anything, you get it yourself. This situation is completely MENTAL!" John shouted angrily, throwing the coat on the floor and toeing off his shoes.

"John? Expensive coat. Expensive shoes." Sherlock didn't even look up; he was entirely occupied with the liver.

"Oh, I'm sure it is. I'm upstairs in case you need me."

"John?" Sherlock called him back.

"Yes, Sherlock?" Irritation was audible in John's voice, in his grey eyes blazed fire.

"I have a surprise for you."

"And what may that be?"

"Look in my room."

John looked at his friend in wonder and opened the door of Sherlock's bedroom. In the corner of the room stood a small fridge.

"You bought a fridge?"

"Yes."

"Oh." John walked towards it and opened it. In the fridge lay some fingernails and dishes with fungal populations.

John closed the door and walked back to the kitchen. "Why did you do this?"

"You hate all this things in the fridge. So I'll just put them there, they won't be in your way."

"Well, thank you, I suppose. But why did you do this now?"

Sherlock remained silent, but his eyes locked in John's. "Was she a good kisser?" he finally asked.

The ardent look on his face caused a giggle to bubble up by the blogger in the detective's body, and soon laughter from both men flooded the apartment as John, hiccupping from laughter, told him everything that had happened between him and Molly in the morgue.

When the laughter had died away, John sank down on the sofa and turned on the telly. It showed an interview with Lestrade, who told the press the murderer of the kid was found. Some reporter asked if it was Sherlock Holmes that had helped solving the case, but Lestrade denied that. "No, it was Doctor John Watson, Sherlock's friend. He turns out to be as good as Sherlock, so he was able to give us some very good leads."

"Great, Sherlock!" John moaned, turning off the telly and looking at Sherlock, but Sherlock sat up straight, apparently listening to some noises downstairs. He got up and walked downstairs without saying anything to John. John narrowed his eyes and tried to listen too, but all he heard was a soft thud and a groan. It was silent for a while, and a worried John walked towards the landing, peering down. His breath stuck in his throat. His friend lay on the floor, a very well-known person was knelt down beside the body, and when she looked up, a smile broke through on her face and she quickly climbed the stairs. John stared at her, the woman smiled back at him. She was Irene Adler.

Phew! A difficult chapter to write, hopefully it was up to your expectations. Any suggestions and improvements are very welcome. :$