Chapter 13-

Sherlock supposed he had been staring to the point of rudeness, but was it really necessary for John to kick him in the shin that hard?

OWWW! Bugger beeping beep!

He growled softly under his breath to express his displeasure.

'Right!' John said brightly over his objections, 'so you are going to visit with Molly in autopsy, while I assist with a differential upstairs. Alright?'

The forensic scientist in question had quickly recovered her composure, as if used to being stared at like she was some sort of strange insect. Smiling graciously at the anxious expression on the good doctor's face, she looped a confident arm through Sherlock's, 'Yes, that is fine. Come along Sherlock, let's see if we can find something exciting to look at.'

Sherlock obediently crooked his elbow so she could rest her hand more comfortably.

'And where exactly are you going to be?!' he turned to asked John, still a bit stunned that the man had been summoned to consult on a patient's upcoming heart procedure, at a world class medical institution.

'I know where he will be,' Molly insisted before John could answer, 'come now with me. Oh and I really like this color jeans you are wearing, Sherlock. Very fashionable!'

Reluctantly, the recovering detective let himself be led. However as they stepped into a gleaming bank of elevators to take them down, he kept glancing sideways at her from the corner of his eye.

Sherlock knew in his head that he should consider him lucky to have such loving, caring friends, because by all accounts he wasn't the most easy going man in the world. He therefore felt a bit petty that he was so massively disappointed by the woman who had this long time crush on his person. The poor girl was as plain as kite paper, and except for her luxurious hair, she didn't have a single redeeming quality in her face!

That is mean, Sherlock and you know it. Bad form.

He shook his head, trying to focus his mind in a sensible manner. Looks were not everything and he slapped a smile on his face, wanting to make himself agreeable to this new person who was being kind him.

'I have John's resume if you want to see it,' she said unexpectedly as their elevator descended, 'It's as long as my arm. He was an amazing surgeon.'

Sherlock looked down at her, shocked that she had so clearly picked out these earlier thoughts out of his head. He did want to learn more about John, more especially why a world class physician was acting as his lowly assistant.

'I saw the look on your face before we left him,' she explained quickly. 'You were irritated to be taken by surprise.'

The elevator opened with a melodic ding, and Sherlock looked around distractedly. Suddenly, he wasn't at all sure he cared to be alone with this oh too observant young lady.

'It's quiet,' he remarked somewhat unimaginatively as they walked out.

This made Molly giggle, 'it's not on the London tourist's map, that's for sure!'

She looked back puzzled though as Sherlock pulled softly at her arm, indicating that he didn't want to follow her through the door she now held open.

'Is that a dead body?' he asked quickly in a strangled voice.

With a quiet sigh, Molly looked over her shoulder at the two covered bodies laid out on the steel tables, waiting for her examination. She didn't want Sherlock to see the look of dismay in her eyes, at the extent of his amnesia.

She had read about his condition to refresh her memory, and even went as far as to talk with Sherlock's doctor. He didn't say much of course, but he didn't seemed too concerned. Sherlock was otherwise unhurt and healthy, and that was all he cared about.

She had wanted to hit the man with his clipboard.

He didn't understand what Sherlock's mind meant to him; how it was so much a part of his person and the profession he had chosen. It was as if a concert pianist had lost a hand or a photographer, his eye. And here Sherlock was in her morgue, pretending to be happy with a stupid smile on his face. How very alone and scared he must feel, but he was trying to keep himself together, and she could do no less.

'We can go up to the cafeteria,' she said quickly, 'there could be pie. You like apple the best.'

Sherlock laughed nervously, 'No, I am alright. The bodies took me by surprise, but this is autopsy after all. I am fine, lead on.'

She didn't comment further as he averted his gaze from her examination tables, while she took him to sit in her small office.

At first, Sherlock didn't think he had the nerve to raise his head, not when he heard the unmistakable sounds of what could only be a bone-saw whining softly. He was glad that Molly had left him alone though, so he could fall apart for a bit in private. Indeed, it was very considerate and he wondered if it had been a deliberate act. Perhaps it was, they had been friends for a long time.

However, he was going to look eventually, Sherlock had already decided that. He had to. Forensics was a large part of his life, judging from the company he kept.

Hopefully it would be like riding a bike.

Maybe I'll get lucky and bop my head on the edge of the table as I pass out, and my memory will be restored.

Sherlock told the sarcastic voice in his head to shut up as he took in a deep breath and then another. Finally, he raised his head to survey the office he was in.

Okay, this is not too bad.

The autopsy was at a comfortable distance and Molly was leaning over her "specimen" blocking it from view. As a precaution though, he continued to take deep calming breaths as he curiously looked around the neat office. Files all color coded in a series of pastels lined the desk, and pens and pencils were in suitable receptacles. Various anatomical charts also dotted the steel white walls interspersed by pictures of a cat; a tom by the looks of it. No family pictures though. Sherlock glanced at the opposite wall and then almost fell off his chair in shock.

Gradually he stood up and walked over; his mouth hanging open in amazement. Reaching up one hand he gingerly caressed one of the hundred post it notes that curtained the wall, all covered in his handwriting.

Oh ...my... God.

Molly came up behind him after a few minutes.

'Isn't it awesome?!' she remarked excitedly as any true scientist would, 'you have a wall like this in Baker street, but you get worried that Mrs Hudson or John may clean it up by accident, so you've made a duplicate here.'

'I don't understand. What is it?'

'Why don't you tell me?' she instead pressed him, gently taking his hand and guiding it along one of the columns.

'They are experimental designs, of course I know that,' Sherlock snapped, 'but...there are so many!'

'And these blue ones over here are the cases that you are investigating,' she explained. Sherlock jumped to the area she indicated.

Eventually he turned to face her. The technician blushed and this time averted her eyes from the intensity of his awed expression.

'Thank you,' he said, reaching over to squeeze her hand. 'Thank you for keeping my thoughts safe.'

'That's okay,' she blurted out, terribly confused that her "crush" was smiling happily down at her and standing so close, 'I am glad to help. It's not like you keep me around for my good looks.'

It was hard to say who was more mortified at that point.