How to keep your pathologist

A/N: This plot has been gnawing at my brain for ages! I blame all the great sherlolly writers in this fandom for giving me feels. And a shout out to NoveraDeMedeci for fuelling my Sherlock obsession! You rock.

I plan on making this a series of one shots or two shots, pairing Molly with various characters from the Sherlock universe as well as other crossovers.

I did Martin\Molly first because it has to be my favorite. But eventual Sherlock\Molly, I promise you.

Disclaimer: I don't own any of this, thank God. I would have ruined it completely.

The Airdot Pilot


When Sherlock Holmes came into the morgue a St Bart's that day, rubbing his hands in excitement-the body in question was supposed to be delightfully mutilated and he was hoping to get the burst heart-he expected to find Molly Hooper either working on the cadaver or cleaning up after her work, the body cleared. He hoped it was the former, the latter case meant he would have to throw out a few compliments, and he was rather in a hurry.

What he didn't expect was to open the door and almost collide with her as she was coming out.

"Oh it's you," Molly squeaked, trying not to think about the intoxicating whiff she got due to her close proximity to him. Sigh, one sight of him and all those years of education, diplomas and coherence went out the window.

"Ah yes, Molly. The Robinson body? Lestrade texted me the details."

Molly grimaced. She hadn't performed the autopsy herself, but she had gotten a glimpse of it. Whoever did that must have been pissed.

"Well?" Sherlock was saying; Molly looked up at him (God, why was he so tall?) and gathered a bit of coherence, "Actually, I just put him away."

Sherlock smiled winningly, an act that made him look very young and Molly flush scarlet, "You wouldn't mind wheeling him out again, would you?"

"Actually, I was just going…"

"Please?" Here, he widened his eyes for an added effect. He saw her shoulders hunch in, and knew that he had won. He was halfway to the slabs when she spoke up again.



"I said, no. I have a lunch date, and I would like to go."

The look of utter confusion and shock on Sherlock's face was priceless. Molly memorized it; she was deriving entirely too much pleasure from it.


Oh wow, she had made Sherlock Holmes stammer. The day was getting pretty eventful so far, and it was still just the afternoon!

Sherlock seemed to had recovered his bearings, and when he spoke his voice was cold, "Really Molly, another date? With the lab technician from downstairs?"

"How did you-?"

"The man is a devoted polygamist; he has two wives and three girlfriends. And judging by his right sleeve, he is an internet porn addict. So, do you really think it is wise to go ahead with that, or do something really useful like helping me with the body?"

Molly scowled, turned her heel and talked out of the room, taking care to slam the door shut on her way out. It would have been a dramatic exit; if she hadn't bumped her nose again the beam.

Glaring at Sherlock as if he was responsible for her injury and clumsiness, he just looked back at her blankly, and then she ran off.

Molly was in a towering temper when she entered the coffee shop, ranting in her mind about how Sherlock always spoiled everything. She had cancelled her date, barely managing to be civil to Paul as she confronted him about the wives and girlfriends.

This was a bit new for Molly Hooper. She was usually soft-spoken and more often than not let almost everybody run her over. Today was different. She had had a trying week, Bart's being understaffed as usual. Everybody had a breaking point and she snapped today. She actually managed to put Sherlock down, something she always assumed was John Watson's prerogative.

The fact that putting Sherlock down was the only good thing that had happened to her today made her realize that she was dreadfully in need of a life outside the mortuary.

She was contemplating just that when SPLAT! And something cold and liquid fell straight on her head.

"Oh my god, I am so sorry! I…" the ginger haired rather lanky man who was responsible for the cold tea on her head, slipped on the spill and fell flat on the floor on his face.

"Oh, it's ok, I…Wait, Sherlock?"

The poor guy was still blabbering about how he would pay for her cleaning. Molly realized that there was no way he could be Sherlock. Sherlock maybe extraordinary, but even he couldn't change his hair color and general bearing that fast.

"I'm sorry; I thought you were someone I knew." Molly said, cutting across his blabbering.

"Oh, it's good." He smiled shyly and rubbed his neck. Molly was instantly charmed (accursed fickle organ!). He looked almost like Sherlock's twin, except being ginger, slightly tanned and younger looking. The cheekbones were the same, as were the eyes, but a lot warmer.

"And I'm dreadfully sorry about the tea…" He said, watching her wipe some of the tea off, "Can I make it up to you somehow...err…" he blushed, "May I get you something?"

Molly smiled for what seemed like the first time today. Feeling suddenly flirtatious and daring, (what? The guy was adorable!) she said, "Depends…will you join me?"

The man blushed even deeper- definitely not Sherlock- and smiled shyly, "If you want me to."

Molly extended her hand, "Hi, I'm Molly Hooper."

He shook it, "Hi, I'm Mol- I mean, Martin. Martin Crieff."

Molly giggled. Things were looking up all of a sudden.

_to be continued_

Post Notes: I love Martin Crieff. Just absolutely love him. And I really really ship Martin\Molly, but this might still be Sherlolly. Why, you ask? Because I can.

Please Review, I greatly appreciate it!

Love. Adi x