A/N: I always wondered what it would be like if Sherlock and Molly shared a flat. This is my attempt on writing a story about it. I want to keep it light and funny, fluffy and somewhat steamy later on. I hope you like it. Anyway, let me know. :)
It was a quiet day at the morgue. Molly hated quiet days. It only meant one thing: Filing.
Gosh, she hated filing. Of course she knew it was a necessary thing to do but she hated it anyway. She would rather drown in a pile of corpses than to constantly fill out paperwork.
Oh, that wasn't a nice thing to think. Of course she didn't mean that she wanted people to die so she wouldn't have to do this disliked task. She would do this her whole life if she could save lives with it, it was just that she…
"Molly, you're ranting", the pathologist scolded herself in a deep voice and let out a little laugh. She loved imitating Sherlock's voice. Throughout the years she had become quite good at it. Not his deep, full baritone, but his posh way of talking…
Oh no, don't think about him again, or you will sort everything wrong like the last four times!
Thinking about Sherlock was only helpful when she did an autopsy. It was crazy, but she liked to imagine him standing next to her, looking over her shoulder. In a very weird way, it helped her to focus on her task. She looked out for the little details, anything that could tell her the person's history. It was kind of an imaginary battle against him and sometimes her 'imaginary detective' even pointed things out to her.
"Maybe I really am losing my mind over him", Molly muttered to herself as she put the folder of Mrs. Hammersmith's behind Mr. Gordon's file.
That's what Mary always said when they were talking about him. Which happened a lot lately because John and Mary wanted to move in together and…well, Sherlock wasn't making it easy. Mary and him were still eyeing each other with caution. Mary couldn't forgive that he had put John through hell by faking his death and Sherlock couldn't forgive her that she had punched him the first time they had met. Oh, how Molly would have loved to see the look on Sherlock's face.
"Again, not very nice, Molly", she commented on her own thinking.
To be fair, Sherlock wasn't the big sod he had been. At least not to her. Molly guessed that it was his way of saying thank her. She didn't care, really. Even if he would have been an even bigger sod, she still would have wanted him back in her life. But if he wanted to try being friendly to her, who was she to object?
While Molly was lost in her musings and busy with filing, the door to her little office swung open and John walked in. She turned her head and smiled at him, waiting for Sherlock to enter, but John already closed the door.
"All alone tonight?" Molly joked. She was guessing that Sherlock was already occupying her lab.
Hm, that's weird.
John looked…nervous? He was pacing through the limited space of the room.
"Did something happen to Sherlock?"
"No, no, he's fine…well, as fine as he can be under these circumstances."
Ah, so that's what it's about.
Molly sighed and stopped filing (she really wasn't sad about this).
"What did he do now? Did he insult Mary? Did she punch him again?"
John chuckled and looked at Molly.
"No. Mary doesn't set a foot into 221b. I don't want World War III in there."
Molly smiled and sat down at the desk, gesturing John to take a seat, as well.
"Then what is it?"
John cleared his throat and folded his hands on the table just to rest them in his lap a second later.
"I think I can't move out", he finally said.
"Oh, come one. Sherlock will get over it sooner or later. He's just pouting. He thinks you love her more than him."
John laughed. He had come to like her weird sense of humor.
"Yeah, maybe that, too. But Mrs. Hudson is concerned, as well. We both think it's not a good idea to let him live on his own."
"Well, she'll be there to keep him company in the rare times he needs someone to talk to, and she'll make sure he doesn't starve to death. And you'll be around, too. You work together. It will be different, of course, but he'll come around."
"Mrs. Hudson is not getting any younger and…she is thinking about moving to Australia. She has a niece there. Her family invited her to live with them."
They looked at each other. Molly bit her lower lip. She knew how much Sherlock loved Mrs. Hudson.
"Oh, boy. That indeed is something to worry about…can't we talk her out of it? No, of course we can't. It's Mrs. Hudson's life, after all. She took care of him long enough."
"Exactly my thought. She is thinking of staying just for him, but I don't think it's fair."
Molly let out a sigh and rested her chin in her hand.
"That really is a lot of change for Sherlock Holmes. To lose you and Mrs. Hudson…he will be unbearable…and lonely."
"This is what I'm trying to prevent…and this is why I'm here."
Molly looked up.
"What do you mean?"
John took a deep breath and leaned forward.
"Molly…I know this is a lot to ask, maybe even too much. But you care about him just as much as I do. Maybe even more. Would you...maybe...consider…"
"Oh no. No, no, no, no, no."
Molly shook her head repeatedly and pulled back from the desk until her chair bumped into the cabinet.
"You can't mean…Me, moving in with Sherlock? You must be out of your mind!"
Molly shot up from her chair. John did the same and stopped her before she could flee the room.
"Please, hear me out first. Living with Sherlock is not that hard. He will ignore you for most of the time, anyway."
"Thanks", she commented dryly.
"You know what I mean, when he's in his mind palace. From all the people I know, you're the one who knows him the longest. You know all his faults and you deal with them very well. You can do this."
"I deal with them well because Sherlock is trying to be nice when he's here. That doesn't mean he will be in his own flat."
"Maybe not. But things are different between you. Even I can see that. You're closer than you were before…the fall."
John had still problems to talk about it. Losing Sherlock was one of the toughest things he had to go through.
"We're not close enough to live together, John. This will be…it will be too hard. Always being around him, no way to escape…He will break me, John."
They looked at each other for a few seconds, then John let go of Molly's shoulders. She could literally see how his hope died.
"That's what Mary said."
"She knows about your crazy plan?"
"Yeah. She told me not to suggest it. She's a pretty clever woman."
"Yes. You're a very lucky man."
He smirked at her.
"I'm sorry, Molly. Somehow I thought this would be good idea."
"It's okay. I'm sorry, too. But Sherlock will get through this. We've been there when he needed us and we always will be."
John smiled sadly as he turned to leave.
"Not all of us. We have doubted him…even I did for a second. But you never did, did you?"
Molly's heart was beating faster. He had never said anything about her role in the fall. He had never talked to her about it at all, not even about the fact that she had lied to him for almost three years.
"No, I didn't."
Her voice was shaky and she felt tears swelling up in her eyes. It was hard for her to talk to him about it, too.
John, holding the open door in his hand, nodded his goodbye. Then he was gone and Molly let herself fall into the chair. She sighed again and rested her head on the backrest.
Oh boy. And she had thought filing would be the worst thing she had to do today…