His Best Friend (sherlolly)

4

There was something about Sherlock Holmes that was special. I have met plenty of brilliant people in my day, but never quite like him. He could tell everything about you with one look, and though it tended to make most people mad, something about it made me fascinated. Whether I liked it or not, I was drawn to Sherlock Holmes, and there was nothing I could do about it.

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I had visited John's flat a few times since he moved in. You can imagine what we have been up to.

I that time, though, I had learned not very much about Sherlock. I would ask him questions which he most of the time ignored or answered as if i was bothering him, which I most likely was. Here's what i've learned:

- He's a 'consulting detective' (the only one, apparently)

- He was 33

- He had no friends

- And he had had a past drug addiction. (John told me that one)

I acknowledge that I really don't know him, but apparently that's a lot more than most.

One day, when me and John had just been exercising the 'friend' part of our relationship, Sherlock so rudely interrupted, obviously not caring if we thought he was rude.

"Molly," he turned around "you said you work in a morgue, right?"

I nodded

"Do you think..." he paused, looking down "do you think I might be able to come in, examine a body maybe?" He smiled sweetly. How could resist those puppy dog eyes?

"Um...yes, I think that can be arranged." I nodded my head.

"Thanks! God, you're such a life saver!" he gushed.

suddenly his smile was gone, and he turned around.

"Way to go, Molly" my conscience sassed. "one smile, and he got exactly what he needed. You're way too easy to manipulate." I ignored her as best as I could, but deep down, I knew that she was right. He could play with me so easily.

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Sherlock had come into the morgue quite often. It's become sort of a second home to him. He was usually quite rude to me, but I knew that that was just the way he was. Rude.

Sometimes when he was especially being a little shit, I would call him 'Sherly' just to piss him off, which it most definitely did.

"Don't call me that!" he would say through clenched teeth.

Of course what was he going to do about it? call me 'Molls"? sometimes i would frustrate him so much, he would just put his head in his hands, and sigh. On the not so rare occasions that happens, I would close the door behind me and break out into a fit of giggles. God, it was great to mess with him.

I had been cooped up in my office for hours, waiting for something interesting to happen.

My phone beeped to let me know I had just received a text message. It was probably my mum. She usually forgot that I have to work, and would call or text me during work. But no, this time the sender had no name, just numbers.

"I'M COMING IN TODAY

-SH"

"Sherlock" I thought. Usually he didn't text or call before, he'd just show up.

"Yes, that's fine."

I typed back.

I raced over to my desk, knowing he was probably going to be here any minute. I quickly refreshed myself, putting on mascara and pink lipstick. It's not that I liked Sherlock, (okay, maybe a little bit) but more that I wanted him to like me.

I had just finished touching up when the doors flew open. He was here.

I threw everything into a drawer and stood up.

He swaggered in, and assessed me and the room. "Slow day, I presume?"

He, of course, already new the answer, but I nodded anyways.

"I need to see a certain 'Mr. Harrison', and i've been told he can be found here." His smile not touching his eyes.

"That's correct." I answered quietly. "Follow me." I looked up at him and walked around the corner and pulled out my keys. I wasn't exactly sure which slot was his, so I ran my fingers down each one, quietly reading the names to myself, when I stopped and unlocked it, sliding him out for Sherlock to see.

"Yes..." he said, deep in thought. "That's all i require of you. You can go away now." He shooed me away with his hands.

He stayed for about 45 minutes, and left without a word.

"Bye-" I called out, only to have the doors slam at me.

I put my head in my hands and sighed. I knew that I wanted him, and the fact that I knew I couldn't have him, made me want him so much more.