Sherlolly Oneshots

The Icing on Top

For Day 2 of Sherlolly Appreciation Week!

Enjoy everybody!

•••

Molly Hooper stared at a dead body.  Typically death and the victims it claimed never bothered her, this one, however, was particularly nasty.  Molly hadn't even bothered checking the name on the files, she didn't want to know the poor soul that had been unlucky enough to face a fate like the one she saw before her.

It was the complete set of repulsiveness.  Dried blood, a horrendous stench, rotting skin, and maggots.  Yes, maggots.  Molly sighed as she picked up the scalpel.

And on her birthday, too.

Just as Molly was about to pierce the shriveled, yellow flesh the door to the lab burst open and a voice Molly recognized as Mary Morstan's flooded through the lab.

"Happy birthday Mo- good god!  What the hell is that smell?"

Molly dropped the scalpel and turned around to face her friend who stood with a look of absolute disgust.

"The new body that came in," the pathologist answered with a small smile.  One of her favorite parts about the job was the satisfaction of knowing that out of all people she knew mostly all of them couldn't do what she did in a million years.

Mostly all of them.

Mary cringed as Molly stripped of her gloves, "don't they have something to cover that stench?"  She said, her voice muffled from her hand over her mouth.

Molly nodded, "I sprayed it.  Four times.  This isn't nearly as bad as it smelled when it first arrived here."

Mary shook her head, her face drained of color as she lowered her hand.  "I don't know how you do it, Molly Hooper," she said, holding out a neatly wrapped gift, "happy birthday.  I think you deserve a present more than anybody right now."  Molly laughed, taking the present and nodding her head to the door.

"Do you want to talk outside?"  Mary was out the door faster than Molly could finish saying "outside".

The pathologist followed her friend out, giggling as the blonde-haired women drank in the fresh air. 

"Didn't you even try to ask for the day off," Mary asked, slumping against the wall.  Molly shrugged.

"I happen to like my job, even when something like that shows up on my lab table."  The pathologist smiled when a look of disbelief clouded her friends face.  Though soon she looked at her shoes, "anyway Sherlock wasn't there when I woke this morning, I figured he must be away on a case."

Mary gasped, the color suddenly returning to her cheeks.  "What?"  She cried, "no way!  It's your birthday.  Sometimes, I don't know how you can stand to date him."

Molly rolled her eyes, "relax," she soothed, "the safety of the civilians is much more important than my birthday.  Sherlock is out there doing what's right.  That's the best birthday gift I could ask for."

Mary nodded though still eyed the mousy pathologist suspiciously.  "You're too precious for this world, Molly.  Though any gift is not as good as the one I got you." 

Molly looked down at the small box in her hand.  From the size of the box she'd guess it was jewelry, or something like that.  The pathologist looked at her friend gratefully, "thank you, Mary," she said sweetly, "though I have to finish up here and find Sherlock, make sure he hasn't been gunned down on the streets.  See you later?"

Mary nodded, wrapping her friend tightly in a hug.  "See you later.  And call me if that boyfriend of yours has forgotten your birthday!"  Molly rolled her eyes but chuckled as she waved goodbye, letting out a small sigh before returning to the lab.

She carefully opened the small box, letting out a small gasp as she studied its contents.  Inside glittered a beautiful silver necklace, perfectly matching the dress Molly had bought earlier that week.  Inside was a small note that read: Hope you enjoy, Molls!  You're the best!  Love, Mary

The pathologist smiled as she closed the box and shot a glance at the clock above the door.  Now if only she could find her Sherlock...

Two hours ticked by and, with a small shudder, Molly took her gloves off and set down her scalpel.  Her especially repulsive cadaver of the week had been given a complete (yet grueling) autopsy and was stitched back up.  Molly was about to head off for her lunch break when the door burst open and a man none other than Sherlock Holmes stepped through.

"Molly!"  He cried joyously, wrapping her in a tight hug, "wonderful to see you today, my dear!"  Molly smiled, a small blush rising to her cheeks as she sank into Sherlock's warmth.

"You too," she mumbled. 

Sherlock pulled back, his gaze flicking to the cadaver on the table.  "Tell me, Molly," he began, "you haven't yet gotten rid of the maggots found in the cadaver, have you?"  Molly felt her face fall, though Sherlock didn't notice.

The pathologist shook her head, "n-no.  They're in the refrigerator..."

"Brilliant!"  Sherlock exclaimed, kissing Molly on the cheek before moving on to retrieve the maggots.  The pathologist watched him, her mouth hanging open.

Sherlock studied the container in his hand, nodding in satisfaction.  "This is perfect, Molly.  You may have just saved the lives of three more people."

He was about to step out of the door when Molly called after him.  "Sherlock!  I- uh.  What are the plans for dinner tonight?"

The detective blinked at her, then shrugged.  "Didn't have anything planned yet, would you like to eat at Speedy's?"  Molly didn't speak, instead just nodding her head.  Sherlock winked at her and abruptly closed the door, leaving a shocked Molly staring at the place where he had been.  Though the shock soon turned to rage.

Screw what she'd said earlier, the bastard had forgotten her birthday!

Molly crawled through the rest of the day with narrowed eyes and a scowl on her face.  No birthday present or half-hearted "happy birthday" could make her feel better.

When she finally found herself at the steps of 221B with her keys in hand, it was all Molly could do to keep herself from turning away and not meeting Sherlock at Speedy's later.

She opened the door, climbing up the stairs and clutching the rail so hard it hurt.  If Sherlock was here he could feel her wrath.  Molly went into the room, her fuse about to blow, but suddenly froze.

A soft glow of candlelight was emitted from the dining room, a small table covered with a white cloth in the center of the room.  Molly dropped her bag and nebulously walked forward, staring at the set up.  A deep crimson rose was the centerpiece of the table and it was then when a wonderful (and quite relieving) smell flooded the pathologists senses.

"Hello, my dear," a deep voice rumbled from behind Molly.  She whipped around, her eyes wide as Sherlock stepped into the candlelight, dressed in a neatly pressed suit.

"S-Sherlock.  What is this?"  Molly asked as the detective guided her to the table, pulling out her seat though the pathologist did not sit.

"What do you think?  It's your birthday dinner, Miss Hooper." 

Molly blinked, "my birthday... so you didn't forget?"

Sherlock laughed, a deep sound that sent shivers down the pathologists spine.  "Forget!  Now that would be a mistake I'm sure I would pay dearly for."  Molly blushed, a sheepish smile upon her lips.

"Yes, I suppose it was a silly thing of me to think," she admitted quietly.  Sherlock placed his hands on the back of Molly's neck, leaning down and pressing a soft kiss on her lips.

"Very silly," he agreed quietly.  "You are my everything, Molly Hooper.  Don't think for a second I'd ever forget that."  Molly inhaled sharply at Sherlock's words, biting her lip.  The detective grinned, kissing Molly's head.

"Now," he said, "let's dine, shall we?"