Note: Hello all! I have updated the story summary to express that this is a very Sherlolly story. I am, however, trying to keep it in the realm of possibility. If I can't suspend my own disbelief, I could hardly expect it of you, dear reader. Also, I have no beta or Britpick, so please don't hesitate to offer constructive (read: gentle) criticism.

Molly was looking forward to her day off. 45 minutes to go.

She wasn't particularly stressed by her current workload, but the last few months had been emotionally draining. This was only exacerbated by the effort she put forth to look chipper while she was at work. It just wouldn't do, looking as if she was about to have a nervous breakdown at the drop of a hat. Not that she was, of course, but most of the hospital seemed to know her business, and those nosy people were just looking for any small sign of weakness to discuss at length on break over coffee.

Molly would not let them have that satisfaction, and had taken to finding solace in the quiet moments she had alone. She was now blissfully alone in her office space next to the lab, finishing her day's paperwork. She sighed as she dropped three files on her way to the file cabinet. A quick glance to her monitor, 42 minutes, and she bent to pick them up.

She saw the shadow before she heard the door open, and instinctively dove under the empty desk on her left, leaving the files open and shuffled on the floor. She closed her eyes and steadied her breathing as she heard the creak of the office door and felt another presence in the room.

"Lose something?" The voice was familiar, and Molly immediately flushed with embarrassment. Sherlock hadn't bent to look at her, so she quickly slipped her badge off of her lab coat and made to get up.

Her actions often lacked grace, and this motion did not disappoint. She caught her shoulder on the underside of the desk as she stood, and she landed hard on one knee.

"I dropped my badge when I went to pick up those files," she said as she gratefully accepted Sherlock's arm to right herself. "Instead of catching it, I slapped it underneath the desk." There was no point to looking at her monitor again, Sherlock was here for something, and she would definitely be helping him with whatever it may be, regardless of her hours.

As Molly released Sherlock's arm, she looked at his face for the first time. She could see the scrutiny there, and braced herself for the deduction. His eyes narrowed, looking at her badge, the files, and settling on her eyes.

"Molly, if you had swept your files with you, I might not have seen you under the desk," he paused and looked at the hand that had previously grasped his arm. "For future reference."

The pathologist looked back into Sherlock's eyes and recognized the same change she's been seeing for almost a year, here and there. He works at being kinder now. However, hiding things from him was as futile an endeavor as it ever was.

"I have been on edge, Sherlock, since the broadcast. I hope you understand why," Molly didn't want to talk about the assistance she gave when he faked his death. She appreciated his gratitude, but never wanted him to feel guilty about her involvement. Even though she was now a possible target, she didn't regret her actions for a minute.

Molly knelt to pick up her files. They were now hopelessly shuffled, and she sighed as she realized the effort it was going to take to right them. A quick glance at her watch, 39 minutes. She stood, arms full of loose papers, "Can I help you with anything? I don't remember getting anything suspicious in today."

"I was hoping to help with whatever projects you currently have open, but I see you're working on leaving."

There wasn't a case to solve at the moment, which makes things a bit different. As Molly realized that Sherlock's presence was going to give her a much needed respite from her colleagues, she was genuinely excited at the prospect of making headway in some of her ongoing projects.

"I'm not, actually," she said, brightly. "I'm disappointed that I have to take the time to fix these files, but I was hoping to get started on my next experiment. You're welcome to join me, I'm going to be analyzing internal tissue damage."

At his smile, Molly abandoned the files in a tidy, but still disorganized stack on top of her workstation, grabbed two pairs of goggles and followed her tall friend into the adjoining lab.