After 'the incident,' Molly was lucky to have a job. Pretty much everyone was. She was questioned extensively by the police, at Bart's, at home, and at Scotland Yard. Not by regular police, not by the DIs she knew like DI Lestrade who was brusque but nice. These people were narrow eyed and cold and they asked her questions about the police that she knew and about whether she had known or suspected anything about—.

She heard that there had been serious shake-ups at Scotland Yard regarding a certain consulting detective being allowed access to crime scenes and commandeering investigations. For awhile there were rumors that some people would be taking early retirement.

Then there were other questions by men and women in dark suits. And their questions were strange, repetitive and confusing. They took her to bland but soothing rooms and made her take personality tests and things that were like intelligence tests, but not exactly.

At Bart's she had been called on the carpet for allowing 'unauthorized personnel' access to hospital equipment including bodies both donated and official, and for not following correct procedure and timelines regarding police requests. There had been discussions of 'conflict of interest' and 'emotional investment,' and whether it might not be better if she sought employment in a different location which wouldn't have the daily reminders of 'the incident.' There had even been fairly ridiculous reprimands about inter-office romances which just seemed absurd on top of everything else.

She even wondered why she should stay. She couldn't ignore the whispers that went around behind her back about her involvement in what the tabloids called the 'Biggest Criminal Man Hunt of the Decade.'

"Hello!" she wanted to yell, "yes, I dated and even slept with a man who turned out to be a psychopathic master criminal, but I DIDN'T KNOW THAT AT THE TIME, DID I?" And, I did it because I couldn't get the attention of the other psychopath that I lusted after.

Then one day, during one of the quiet times with the men and women in suits in a different room in shades of pale blue, a man in a three-piece suit carrying an umbrella came in and said, "I believe that Ms., I'm so sorry, Doctor Hooper, has told us everything that she knows about Mr. Moriarty and the events leading up to that night." He looked at her then with a look that was so cold and hard that it made her shiver. It made her think of You-Know-Who somehow.

But then he smiled and held out his hand to her politely, "I'm so sorry for all of this inconvenience, Doctor Hooper. As you can well imagine, we cannot risk letting any detail that might help us with our investigations go unexamined. We will not be troubling you further. In fact, I think you will find that everything will be back to normal in no time." He nodded smoothly and left the room.

Suddenly all the problems went away for everyone. It was as if there had been some order from on high to make everything disappear. Everyone was back at their job and a certain someone continued to use and abuse exactly as he had always done.

A certain someone, You-Know-Who. He was as cold as ever to her and possibly even colder because of the other one, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. God, now she had two of them to try not to think about.

YNW didn't even pretend to flirt and with the new orders he didn't have to. He could have whatever he wanted with or without her permission.

He was the great detective. He hadn't known who HWMNBN was either. Why did he have to make her feel worse about being deceived as if she didn't already feel bad enough? She hadn't been in love with HWM, probably really using him to get to YNW, like that would work. And the horrible thing was that HWM was just using her to get to YNW as well.

She wanted to hate Doctor…oh, God what was his name? He'd told her often enough. Jack? Joe? Certainly not Jim—she'd remember that name forever. Must be John or Jonathon. She wanted to hate him for being able to get that close to YNW and for gaining YNW's trust and even it seemed admiration, but she couldn't. He was always polite and even sympathized with her after even though he'd certainly suffered, ending up in hospital for nearly a month.

It could have been her, she realized. HWM could easily have decided to hurt her. Oh, he'd have still used Doctor John, because she didn't matter to YNW in the slightest, that was abundantly and painfully clear, but he could have decided to hurt or kill her first. She should feel lucky.

She didn't; she just felt stupid.

Even though it seemed that everything had been swept under the carpet, she still tried to keep her head down and just do her work.

"Doctor Hooper?"

She turned. A slightly built young man with a friendly open and pleasant face was hurrying after her. He seemed familiar.

"Hello, Doctor Hooper, I don't know if you remember me. I'm DI Dimmock, Michael Dimmock. I met you with Sherlock Holmes."

"Oh, the case with the foot tattoos!" She might not always remember faces, but she always remembered bodies.

"Yes, yes. That one. Although, I've worked on several other cases since then. With and without Mr. Holmes."

She laughed, "Well, we all try to struggle by without Mr. Holmes when we can." She remembered him now. He'd been nice. Had thanked her for her time and called her Doctor Hooper. Something YNW never did, not when he had his own Doctor to follow him around.

After that he started to swing by the morgue whenever he caught a murder case, just to say hello. It was nice. He was nice. And he was normal and was interested in things that she liked, well, not kitties and bunnies. But they both liked Manchester's chances. And there was no way that he could be anything other than what he seemed.