Molly Hooper and the Bad Wolf

Sherlock stood just outside the morgue, looking through the large glass window. There was a body being sewn up by a woman with light chocolate colored hair, tied up in a neat pointy tail. Under her lab coat was a flower pattern T-shirt, and she took great care in her work making sure to not miss any details. There was no ring on her, and she didn't look like she wore much makeup, and she dressed herself up to try and impress people, most likely someone she could date. She had black cat hair on the bottom of her pants, which meant that there was a cat that lived near her place, but not her cat because there was no cat hair on her arms or torso. Sherlock could begin to feel the craving of certain drugs coming back to him. He wasn't keeping his mind as busy as he did when working out Lestrade's problem; it occurred to Sherlock that his craving for drugs seemed to be more suppressed when he worked.

Sherlock finally entered the room and stood across from where the young woman was sewing up the body and cleared his throat loudly to get her attention. "Ughum, I am here to see Molly Hooper." Sherlock announced. Lestrade followed Sherlock and stood by the door watching.

"I'm Molly, you...you must be Sherlock" Molly answered in a small and timid voice. "Captain Clark said you would be coming down. How long has it been since you last had any drugs?"

"Oh, it has been almost a day I think. I keep most of the cravings at bay with smoking or doing deductions." Sherlock began to look more closely at Molly. "For example I notice you have black cat hair on the bottom of your pants, just above the ankle. But you don't have any cat hair on your arms or torso, which means that it is not your cat. A cat owner would stop to pet their cat leaving hair on their upper body. Also you don't smoke, no nicotine stain on your index finder, but you do enjoy a glass of wine or Champagne. Red wine more than Champagne I should think, you have a small stain on your shirt. Don't worry no one but I would notice something like that. Red wine on your shirt indicated a lunch date, by the look of your smile it went well." Sherlock paused and felt his craving for drugs subside a little bit more.

Molly blushed at this, and tried not to grin, quickly looking away from Sherlock to something else. "What smile? I don't have a smile, do I?"

Molly directed her attention to Lestrade who was leaning on the door, his mouth half open. It took him half a second to realize the question was directed to him. "I...would rather not get involved in this."

"It is a satisfied smile, one most people don't see. A small turn upwards in the corner of the mouth. But the eyes give it away, though most can hide their emotions from the physical features of the face. However when you look into their eyes you can see their true emotion. But on to other matters, it appears I have to come here to do drug tests."

Molly stood in silence for a minute or two, staring at Sherlock, star struck. "Right, yes, drug tests. Um, if you would...if you could just, wait a moment. I have to finish up here. I shouldn't be too long." Only a few short minutes later did Molly lead Sherlock to the lab. Lestrade had to follow; it appeared that part of his punishment was to babysit Sherlock. Molly's work on the corps was neat up until the last few stitches, which she rushed through. The lab was as expected, with microscopes and centrifuges' and a glass fridge filled with various reagents and controls for certain instruments and tests. Molly searched through one of the bottom cupboards until she found a urine container as well as tubes for blood. She handed Sherlock the urine container, and asked if he wanted blood drawn first.

Sherlock was no stranger to needles; it seemed that was how most drugs where administered. So he had the blood taken then gave his urine sample to Molly, after which Lestrade happily made a phone call that would take up the rest of his shift. Sherlock waited patiently for Molly to finish the tests. While they waited for some results to come back, Molly struck up a conversation with Sherlock.

"You have a wonderful gift, given to you. You could do some real good in the world and make a difference. So why do you squander it away, by doing drugs? Or other substances that would seem to inhibit your gift?" Molly asked not as quietly as when they first met. She sounded more causal, and confident.

Sherlock though for a moment, he could tell her the truth, that the effects of drugs on a human body fascinated him. Instead he lied, because he thought it would be a better answer, that Molly would not judge him. "To feel...trying to find something to make me more normal. To find the right drug to bring me down to a level which normal people can understand. If everything goes well with Lestrade, maybe I won't need the drugs anymore."

"Why on earth would you want to be normal?" Molly asked, but left no time to answer. "I mean, really? Why would you want to go down instead of up? You'll be clean; I will personally make sure of that. Normal? No one wants to be normal, they want to be noticed." Molly continued to rant on about how Sherlock should use and develop his gift, and how awful it was being normal. The results came back, and they were all rather high. However Molly assured Sherlock that they would become non-existing results, including the nicotine one. Sherlock merely smiled and made an appointment to see Molly the following month, although she insisted that Sherlock return to her lab sooner.

Sherlock left saying a customary 'goodbye' as is polite to do, according to civilizations. Lestrade was waiting by the elevators for Sherlock, when Sherlock walked up to Lestrade, he asked. "So, how did it go? How much work needs to be done with your rehabilitation?"

"According to Molly, a lot of work and support. She wants me to drop by her lab every two weeks for tests, which to the Captain would seem like a good idea. But I made an appointment with her next month when she told me the two week thing was not the captain's idea. So long as I am kept busy, I don't think it will be too hard to get 'clean'." Sherlock responded to Lestrade.

"Right well then, let's keep you busy. How about we find a real lead on our missing person's case? Rose Tyler could be anywhere; with this man everyone calls the Doctor. We need to find out who he really is by tomorrow. An actual name, with an address and phone number and credit card, or we are off the case. The captain's right, we cannot go after magic blue boxes." Lestrade suggested to Sherlock, who became very annoyed at the statement.

"If you hadn't dragged me away, Rose Tyler would be at home right now. I saw her and the man described as the Doctor on the Queens Walkway, by the fish and chips place. If I was working alone Rose Tyler wouldn't be missing right now!" The elevator dinged to go up, and the doors opened. Lestrade and Sherlock both entered the elevator frustrated with each other. Of course Sherlock's cravings and lack of sleep played a large roll in his anger and frustration.

"For the record, I did not drag you away. I simply pointed out that our attempts to find this Doctor was pointless."

"Was that before or after we found the blue police box? I knew you were skeptical about it all at first, and then we see it with our own two eyes, now you are in denial about it ever happening. It seems that the judgment of your fellow peers and co-workers have a greater effect on you than real evidence." Sherlock did not realize how harsh this was to Lestrade, however true it was. Lestrade stood in silence trying to think of something to say back, but came out empty handed. The elevator stopped on the main floor, and Sherlock stepped out and looked back at Lestrade who stood inside like a statue. "Look we both have work to do and..."

"No!" Lestrade interrupted. Sherlock cocked his head slightly, confuse, but before he could ask 'what?' Lestrade continued. "No, we don't have work to do. I have work to do. Real work, with real people. Not myths or stories to chase." Lestrade stepped out of the elevator and walked up to Sherlock as he spoke, his voice filled with rage. Lestrade bumped into Sherlock as he walked away, he didn't get far before he turned back towards Sherlock and yelled, "You know, you have a brilliant mind. I still think you could really help us with cases. But you can be really thick sometimes. Give me a call when you realize what it means to be sensitive to others!"

Sherlock called a taxi over and headed back towards the London eye. He had to see if the police box was still there or if it was gone. Sherlock had the taxi wait as he ran to where he last saw Rose and the Doctor with the blue box. There was no doubt in his mind that he saw those eating fish and chips. Gone, that box was gone; and it would be near impossible to find Rose and the Doctor now. It had been at least four hours since Sherlock saw them here, they could be anywhere by now. Of course Sherlock was more interested in how the blue police box moved around. Sherlock knew it must weigh a lot; therefore getting it from one place to another must take a lot of effort.

Sherlock paid the taxi driver when he arrived back at Baker Street; he headed up to his flat and began to do some extra research on the blue police box. From Clive's work and obsession with the Doctor, Sherlock gathered that the police box appeared bigger on the inside. There was something in his notes about it being another dimension of sorts. More discoveries lead to the science fiction of time travel. Sherlock decided to store the information for a later date, but it could easily be deleted if more important things came up.

Mrs. Hudson brought up fresh tea with the paper from today, and tried to convince Sherlock to get some sleep which did not work, so instead she opened a window. She knew Sherlock would continue to work until the early hours of morning, and smoked another pack or two. As she left Mrs. Hudson whispered that one of these day's Sherlock would meet someone who would get him to quit smoking.

"I will quit smoking when I feel like it!" Sherlock replied hearing Mrs. Hudson's comment.

"Well that appears to be apparent. Have you taken a look in the paper, you and Lestrade made page 5." Mrs. Hudson pointed out stopping at the doorway turning back to Sherlock.

Sherlock picked up the paper and read the first page. 'Bad Wolf on the Loose! What to Look Out For.' Sherlock then turned to page 5 and glanced through the article, no doubt Lestrade would be upset about this. "I have work to do." Sherlock stated cueing Mrs. Hudson to leave, which she did.

The following morning Sherlock got ready for his first rehab meeting, which was held on the third floor of Scotland Yard. Sherlock was not looking forward to it, but he also didn't want to be thrown back in a jail cell. Sherlock's phone began to buzz; Sherlock took a look at his phone and rolled his eyes as he answered it. "What do you want?"

"Now is that any way to talk to your brother?" Mycroft answered in a soft and calming voice.

"I'm not in the mood for games Mycroft, if you called for a reason then get to it." Sherlock replied irritated.

"I hear you got quiet the smack down yesterday."

"No thanks to you, the Captain told me that the two of you talked about putting me behind bars, unless I took this rehab program."

"Yes, and I was surprised by your answer. Of course you can't put all of the blame on me, Sherlock. Part of it is your fault, and Lestrade's. However I should get a thank you." Mycroft said.

Sherlock was quiet for a moment as he processed what his brother had said. "WHAT?! Thank you for what? What exactly have you done that I should thank you for?"

"Well, I did get you to rehab, and" Mycroft began.

"I was threatened to be thrown in jail if I didn't go!" Sherlock responded. "The only logical thing to do was follow orders, like a good little soldier!"

"But, do you still have a job offer with our good police detectives?"

Sherlock saw that Mycroft wanted credit for getting Sherlock a job at Scotland Yard. "Again, almost against my will. My choice was rehabilitation with a job or jail. The answer was an obvious one. Now I have to leave, goodbye." Just before Mycroft could respond Sherlock hung up the phone and stormed out of the apartment. Sherlock grabbed a taxi and got in the elevator to go up to the third floor. As he stepped out of the elevator he bumped into Molly who was holding a coffee cup and attempted to walk on the elevator just as Sherlock was getting off. Coffee split all over Molly's lab coat and files which she was holding and splashed into Sherlock coat.

"Oh, my! I'm so sorry. I should have been watching where I was going." Molly explained to Sherlock.

'Yes you should have.' Sherlock thought to himself, he was a little upset with Molly for spilling coffee on his coat, but tried to keep himself calm. "Umm, it is ok. I'm fine, but your files and clothes..."

"Oh, I have a change downstairs. As for the files, I think I can save them if I hurry." Molly replied.

Sherlock could tell that Molly was lying about having extra clothes downstairs. Molly had embarrassment written all over her face, which grew when she said that she had a change of clothes. Molly looked down and then ran off mumbling under her breath. Sherlock felt empathy for her, which meant a lot considering he didn't often feel much emotion for people normally. However there was something about Molly that made him feel almost human.
Sherlock found the meeting rather dull, and pointless. He was forced to talk about why he was there and listen to someone lecture about how to take the proper steps to becoming clean. Once the meeting was finished Sherlock thought to see if Lestrade had gotten anywhere with the Rose Tyler case. Sherlock got on the elevator and traveled to Lestrade's desk.

Lestrade was obviously stressed out, and looked as though he had not gotten any sleep. Sherlock approached Lestrade and cleared his throat which seemed to startle Lestrade.
"Bloody hell, Sherlock! You nearly gave me a heart attack! What do you want?" Lestrade asked.

"I wondered how you were doing on the Rose Tyler case." Sherlock responded as though his motives where clear.

"Yeah, well how do you think it's going genius?" Lestrade asked angrily and annoyed. "It is not going well! I can't find any real leads that would make sense. I am going to get thrown off this case and be the laughing stock of the station."

Sherlock looked around the room and saw many people staring at Sherlock and Lestrade, once Sherlock made eye contact they quickly looked away. "Looks like 'be' should be changed to 'is'. Obviously you haven't read yesterday's paper. How much time do you have on this case?"

Lestrade looked up at Sherlock slightly angry and worried about his comment. "I have until...2 hours." Lestrade sighed as he looked at his watch. He rubbed his hands through his hair in stress. Sherlock took a look of Lestrade's work over his shoulder, and just like he said had gotten nowhere.

"What if we went looking for the blue police box again?" Sherlock suggested to Lestrade. "You have two hours, why don't we go looking for it again?"

"Good God, Sherlock. Remember what happened last time we did that?" Lestrade reminded Sherlock.

"Yes I do, which is why I'm taken you out to 'lunch'. As an apology for...whatever I did to upset you."

Lestrade thought for a moment, and thought he would amuse Sherlock. Lestrade then got up and put his coat on a told a co-worker he was going to lunch; and then lead Sherlock over to the elevator. Sherlock tried to get Lestrade to take a taxi, but Lestrade insisted on driving his car to make it really look like he was out for lunch. They drove around aimlessly for a few minutes, until Lestrade saw some kid spray painting the side of a building and then stopped. "Hey, kid! What do you think you're doing?"

The kid looked over at Lestrade and then booked it down the alley way. Lestrade followed the kid and Sherlock decided to follow Lestrade. Sherlock ran past the art work the kid just finished, and then someone else's graffiti. Sherlock stopped and took a better look at the graffiti both the new one, and the older one. It was funny; they both said the same thing, 'Bad Wolf.' Sherlock wondered if it was a name of a new gang, or something. Lestrade came back down the alley way with the kid in handcuffs.

"Thanks for the help." Lestrade comment sarcastically.

Sherlock grabbed Lestrade and turned his attention to the graffiti. "What does 'Bad Wolf' mean? Is it a gang or cult?" Sherlock asked Lestrade.

Lestrade looked at the graffiti, and then turned to the kid. "What does Bad Wolf mean?"

"I don't know. It just seemed like the thing to write on the wall. I didn't even notice that it was already written this wall. Must be a new hashtag or something. I was walking downtown when I began to notice it here and there. Also people are talking about it a lot too. All you have to do is listening."

Lestrade rolled his eyes in disbelief. Sherlock thought about it, the paper yesterday had the words 'Bad Wolf' in it but surely that would just be coincidence. They drove back to the station, with the kid in the back. Sherlock paid attention to details on the drive back to Scotland Yard, and began to notice lots of graffiti saying 'Bad Wolf'. Then there was a restaurant sign saying that 'Today's Special: Bad Wolf Steak! Only £20!' that Sherlock noticed while they waited at a stop light.

When they got back to the station they put the kid in a holding cell, and Lestrade got called in to see his boss about a 'real lead' for the Rose Tyler case. Sherlock sat at Lestrade's desk waiting for him to come out. Sherlock logged on to Lestrade's computer and searched up yesterday's paper. He began to read the front page article which almost had nothing to do with Wolves at all. The writer of the article used it as a metaphor of sorts, about teens and their bad drug habits. Still Sherlock saw no reason for the title 'Bad Wolf on the Loose! What to Look Out For.'

Hello again. Took a while, but I think I got it. I hope you enjoy my rendition of how Molly and Sherlock met. Next Chapter...well, the Doctor may come and make an appearance. Maybe ;D MAHAHAHAHA! I guess you'll just have to wait and see.