It wasn’t often that Molly was puzzled by an autopsy. She’d seen quite a few in her years at St. Bart’s that had been strange or unusual, and heard many more stories from the various mentors she’d had over the years. There was not very much to make her consider calling in Sherlock before the detective inspectors called him in themselves, if they hadn’t already, but this…this one was quite puzzling. It almost appeared as if the victim had drowned, but there was no indication she had been held underwater in any way.
She picked up her tape recorder and was about to speak when the doors to the morgue opened and Sherlock walked in. He looked rather annoyed, and that did not bode well. He might not appear annoyed to the world at large at this precise moment, but she could read his moods well and saw the small indications in his stance and expression on his face that showed she was going to get a tirade at any moment. She decided to stop him before he started. “How do you drown someone without forcing their head underwater?” she asked as he was about to speak.
He had his mouth open and then closed it, thinking. She had to smile at that. After knowing each other for seven years and dating for two she knew him better than anyone on the face of the earth, it seemed. Except possibly for Mary. Mary had this uncanny ability to read Sherlock almost as well as she did, and she greatly enjoyed stumping her husband with that. And it was always fun when she and Mary compared notes. It made it much easier to surprise Sherlock, she realized, when they put their heads together and plotted. Mary had been the one to suggest diverting Sherlock’s train of thought before he got into a long winded rant, and it usually worked like a charm. He made his way closer to the body. “Drowning was her cause of death?” he asked, looking at the woman’s open chest cavity.
Molly nodded. “She wasn’t found in a loo or anywhere near water, and there’s no signs she struggled or was forcibly held down.” She pointed to the woman’s neck, and Sherlock leaned in, moving her head slightly. There were no telltale bruises, and no foam at her mouth. “Is she your victim?”
He shook his head. “I’m on a silly kidnapping case,” he said. “I’d much rather have a good murder any day, but no one can figure out how the security system was tampered with for the child to be taken.”
“Well, maybe you can handle both,” she said with a smile. “This is one of Greg’s cases.”
“Anything to get me away from Dimmock,” he said. “It’s been I don’t know how many years and he’s still overly fascinated by me.”
“Well, you are a fascinating man,” she said. “I’m quite fascinated by you, at least.”
“You have been for quite a long time,” he said.
“And I will continue to be fascinated by you for even longer,” she said. She motioned for him to lean over and then gave him a quick kiss. “Did you have a reason for coming down here if this wasn’t your case?”
“I wanted to see about taking you to lunch. Or rather, taking you home and to bed for your lunch and then watching you very quickly eat the lunch waiting for you in the kitchen.”
She chuckled. “That is quite tempting. Can it wait until I’m done with this autopsy?”
“I suppose,” he said. “How much longer do you think it will be?”
“Forty-five minutes or so?” she said after some thought. “I can run the tests after lunch, but since I’m elbow deep in the body at the moment I’d like to finish that first.
He nodded. “I can wait in your office so I don’t disturb you, then,” he said.
“You don’t have to,” she said. “I don’t mind if you’re out here. Just don’t distract me too much.”
“I have some things I should take care of,” he said. “I can do it better in your office.”
“All right,” she said. “Can I get another kiss first, though?”
He nodded and this time came around and stood next to her as he kissed her. She didn’t pull him closer, much as she wanted to, because her gloves were covered in blood and bodily fluids and she was fairly sure he wouldn’t want them on his clothes. Still, it was a rather enjoyable kiss, and he gave her a small smile when he pulled away before he headed towards her office.
She went back to work, a sense of anticipation running through her. She knew that the tabloid rumors about Sherlock had been false, that all the things Janine had said had been utter tripe, so when they had begun a relationship a few months after he was supposed to have left on a one way trip to Russia she was worried he wouldn’t be comfortable at all with physical affection. But their first kiss had taken her breath away, and he had admitted it had felt different then when he had kissed Janine. When they became intimate it was a learning process for him, but nearly a year later she had to admit he had certainly exceeded her every expectation in that department. Even a quick shag in the afternoon was something to look forward to.
She finished the autopsy as quickly as she could and stripped off her gloves, depositing them in the medical waste bin before taking the samples to the refrigerator to collect when she needed to run them. When she was done with that she went into her office and saw Sherlock keying something in on his mobile, a frown on his face. “Sherlock?”
“She’s back,” he said, his tone flat.
“Who’s back?” she asked, coming around to the chair he was sitting in.
Molly’s eyes widened slightly. “I see,” she said quietly. She knew the truth of the situation with Irene Adler, that the woman was not really dead and she had been infatuated with Sherlock. “Why is she back?”
“My brother had need of her,” he said. “She sent me a text, asking to have dinner. I am not an idiot, I know what her invitations to dinner mean.”
“Did you tell her no?” Molly asked.
“I said when hell froze over,” he said.
She smiled at that. “Good.” She moved to his side and then sat down on his lap. “If you want, I can take an extended lunch. I only have one more body left today, and the tests to run on the woman I was just autopsying. I could help take your mind off of this turn of events.”
He nodded before leaning in and kissing her. She reached up and framed his face in her hands as he reached for her waist. This time she got close and deepened the kiss, savoring every moment. It was almost with reluctance that she pulled away to catch her breath. He rested his forehead against hers, moving his hand to the small of her back. “Marry me,” he said.
“Sherlock?” she asked, surprised.
“I have a ring, it’s at home. I was going to ask at home but…now seemed a better time. And I mucked it all up because it wasn’t, was it? My timing was horrible,” he said, sighing.
“Yes,” she said.
“I knew it,” he said glumly.
“No, Sherlock. Your timing is fine. My answer is yes. Yes, I’ll marry you,” she said, a wide smile forming on her face before she leaned in and kissed him again. This kiss was much quicker, and then she wrapped her arms around him. “I honestly thought you’d never ask.”
“I actually almost asked after our first date but I was told that was too soon,” he said, relaxing as he embraced her back.
“To tell you the truth, I probably still would have said yes,” she said. Then she kissed him again. “I’m definitely taking a long lunch now. And I’m going to make sure this is the best shag you’ve ever had.”
“You promise?” he asked.
“Oh, I solemnly swear to it,” she said, her smile so wide she was afraid she might split her mouth open. This had to be the best day of her life, in all true honesty. There was nothing that could make this day any better, she realized, and if anything attempted to make the day go wrong she’d fight it tooth and nail to make sure it failed miserably.