Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, Steve Moffat, Mark Gatiss own Sherlock and his realm. I just own my computer,my version of Openoffice, and my sick fantasies. English is not my native language, and this story is un-betaed, so please forgive the mistakes and the typos.

Life's a show,
And we all play our parts,
And when the music starts,
We open up our hearts.

Its alright if something's come out wrong,
We'll sing a happy song,
And you can sing along.

"Something to sing about"

from the Buffy the Vampire Slayer episode "Once more, with feeling"

Spending time in Molly Hooper's flat, using her bedroom as his secret bolthole, had surely some advantages. It was moderately quiet, and thankfully Molly loved to keep her rooms as tidy as her lab.

Moreover, it gave Sherlock the opportunity to discover the pathologist most secret habits, and obsessions. Some were almost trivial, like her collection of nail polish, meticulously sorted by the colors of the rainbow in a shelf in her bathroom; or annoying, like her consuetude to read the last words in a book before starting to read it.

Some were extremely frustrating...and strangely he couldn't erase them, no matter how hard he had tried. Like her quiet snoring, when she was forced to sleep on her sofa, because they had agreed he needed more space. It was completely different from John's powerful snorts: her soft puff of breath had the power to lull him to sleep, even when he was forcing himself to fight tiredness in order to solve a case.

The most aggravating of them all, was her habit to sing while she was washing dishes. It was to distract herself from the tedious chore, he was sure of it; and her voice was often off-key, her rendition banal and her repertory was frankly...abhorrent. Somehow, Sherlock found himself fascinated by her cheerfulness...and by her swaying hips.

And between a Gershwin classic and a Britpop hit, he couldn't help but imagine a time when he would be reckless enough to startle his pathologist by hugging her from behind, and then, with his chin on her shoulder, to join her in her carefree singing, enjoying the melody their voices could create.

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