A/N: This fills the July 18th prompt - "Write about a recurring dream." Rated T. Third and last part of the "She's a Doll" miniseries.
Molly stared at the man who, until this point, she had only seen in her dreams. "It's you!" She wanted to reach out and hug him but she settled for standing aside so he could step into the foyer. That's when she noticed the balled-up scarf in his hand. "Um, I can take your scarf and coat if you want."
"Er, actually, the scarf is for you." His voice was like black velvet or smooth dark chocolate.
Molly was ready to melt. Oh God, I'm in so much trouble… "For me?" Wonderful. You're sure to impress him with those wits, Hooper.
He grinned and his handsome face reached a whole new level of devastating. "Yes. But I want to explain myself first. Is there somewhere we can sit down?"
"Oh! Um, sure." She led him to the sitting room, where her cat Toby was taking a nap in the chair. She was about to shoo the cat off when the man chuckled.
"It's fine, we can sit on the sofa," he said, amused.
"Okay." Molly sat down and he sat a respectful distance from her.
Holding the bundle in his left hand, he held out his right to her. "Sherlock Holmes."
"Molly Hooper," she said as she shook it. Then it hit her. "Oh! You're that detective. I heard about you faking your death. Um, this may sound weird, but I wish I could've helped you with that. I'm a pathologist, by the way."
He smirked. "Yes, I know. You would've been much more help than my brother was."
She found she couldn't meet his eyes. "You … um … you went up against my ex-boyfriend."
"That brings us to why I'm here." He unwrapped the scarf, revealing a voodoo doll with a lock of her hair and a very familiar, albeit doll-size, jumper.
Molly could feel her jaw drop. "That's … that's me!"
He smiled gently. "Yes. Since I couldn't find any evidence that Moriarty was a voodoo practitioner, someone must have made it for him. I found it in one of his hide-outs after our confrontation, full of pins."
"God… I don't believe in voodoo and yet… That bastard. This might explain how much physical pain I was in after I dumped him. I kept thinking that I should've felt on top of the world, but I could barely get out of bed most days." She thought back to that time, almost two years ago. "But then the aches suddenly stopped."
He cleared his throat a bit. "Er, yes, that would be the day I found the doll and removed the pins."
She stared at him. He did that for me? I mean, it? "As soon as they stopped, I felt this … well, warm and fuzzy feeling, like everything was right with the world."
The man beside her blushed slightly. "I … um … may have given the doll a hug once I freed it from the pins."
Molly smiled a bit. "You must've done something else, because that's also when I started to have this recurring dream about lying next to a tall, dark-haired man. I could only see your face in the moonlight, when there was enough moonlight, and, um, I could feel your arms around me. I wanted to hold you back but I could never move my arms."
He cheeks turned a deeper shade of red. "Yes, I … um … would hold the doll as I slept."
"Oh." That should sound creepy but it's actually very sweet. She reached out to take his hand. "I want to thank you for giving the doll to me, and for keeping it safe all this time."
He smiled a bit, gently squeezing her hand. "It was my pleasure."
"Would you like to, um, go out for coffee?"