Molly Hooper wondered often what was so appealing to her about Sherlock Holmes. Sure he was handsome, tall, intelligent; but underneath all of that was a cruel man, who didn't think much of other's feelings, and more often than not those feelings were, her's. Time and time again Molly had tried to ask Sherlock to tea or to dinner, and each time in reply it was the same, "Yes, with some cream." Still Molly returned to her obsession with Sherlock Holmes, the high functioning sociopath.
"Hello Dr. Hooper. Got another cold one?" Molly look up and smiled. Sherlock, it wasn't him of course but an Inspector Detective that was infatuated with her.
"Yes Inspector Detective. A John Doe as well. Have you heard from Sherlock Holmes?"
"Afraid not, why? Do you think we are in need of his...services?"
"No need to be sarcastic about it, and no I haven't found anything."
"No even a cause of death?"
"Oh, I found that of course. See here? The poor bloke was stabbed through the heart. If I had to guess it was girlfriend."
"A bit heartbroken without Sherlock around?"
"You know very well that I'm not!" Molly snapped at the Inspector.
"Molly, you don't need to be so defensive about your feelings." Molly sniffed indifferently and returned to her report. She wasn't angry at him per-say, it was the fact that the Inspector was so dead on, on her emotions.
"Shouldn't you be finding his killer, Inspector Detective Thompson?"
"Of course. By the way, a man matching Sherlock's description was seen visiting Sherlock Holmes' grave a fortnight or two ago."
"It couldn't be him Thompson, Sherlock Holmes' is dead. I would know, I preformed his autopsy."
"Its alright you just wished to give me good news."
"I should be going then, Inspector Detective Lestrade wants to have a word. Oh! Dr. Watson he called for you an hour or two ago."
"Did he? Does he still reside in the flat then on Baker Street?"
"Yes, poor bloke refuses to move."
''I'll go and visit. I'm surprised at all that he found himself a girl, worth marrying."
"Yes, is your report finished then?"
"Yes, ruled as a homicide. Good luck Inspector."
Molly donned her street clothes and hurried off towards flat number 221B Baker Street. She rang up for Watson and a short time later she saw him, on the street with a sack of groceries.
"Hello, Dr Watson."
"Molly, you can call me John,"
"Detective Inspector Thompson said you called."
"I did. I have a surprise for you. Actually it surprised me as well."
"What is it?"
"Rather, whom is it."
"Follow me Molly." Molly went up the stairs after John. Knowing Sherlock was upstairs, in the flat in his armchair throwing darts at the crudely painted yellow smile face. John opened the door and sure enough there was Sherlock, not in the chair, but rather at the window, a small smile on his face. The love for him that hadn't completely died roared to life.
"Sherlock." she whispered breathlessly.
"Oh sure, he's on first name basis. But I'm Dr. Watson." Molly stifled a laugh and rushed to Sherlock, enveloping him in her arms.
"I'm glad you decided to come back after all."
"She wasn't as lovely as I remembered dear Molly."
"I've missed you terribly Sherlock."
"Hold on a moment, you knew he was alive?"
"He came to me for help. I gave him the supplies to fake his death. I gave him the supplies to protect his head and slow his heartbeat, then I snuck him out of the morgue and shipped him out to Africa."
"You were with the escort. The terrorist?"
"Watson...it was the only place I could disappear to until everything died down. If I had told you my plan, your acting would have given away my true state."
"Sherlock, you died. In my arms."
"I saved your life. All of your lives! If I didn't 'die' you'd all have a bullet hole in your heads! Watson you wouldn't be getting married, Molly wouldn't be standing here, all my friends. my family would be dead!"
"You, you were forced to jump then."
"Yes, when I spoke to you on the phone, a sniper had a gun trained on your head." Sherlock went back to focusing on the street below.
"Sherlock, are you up for solving a homicide?" Molly asked, wishing to turn the subject.
"Always, Molly. What's the case?"
"A man is his mid-twenties was found on Baker Street, with a knife through his heart. His girlfriend went off the grid and Thompson could use your help, although he won't admit it."
"Sounds interesting. When do we start?"
"Hold on a moment Sherlock."
"Watson, don't you miss solving crimes with me?"
"Of course. Molly, show us the body?"
"Of course." Molly took Sherlock by the elbow. Afraid if she let go, he'd disappear and it would be a dream.
"Molly, I'm very much real."
"I know, I am only afraid I'm dreaming Sherlock. You've been gone for two years."
"I'm sorry for causing you to worry." Sherlock paused. "Let me show you I'm real."
Molly turned, confused. Sherlock put his hand on her cheek and leaned in. He was going to kiss her! His lips brushed her's and she instantly deepened the kiss. She curled her arms around his neck and weaved her fingers into his lush chestnut curls. He moaned, which surprised Molly immensely; Sherlock never showed emotion, much less showed pleasure in anything besides a murder investigation. She pulled away to breath and his eyes sparkled.
"Amazing." Molly finished.
"Happy, confused, like the king of the world?"
"Now then Sherlock. How was your first consensual kiss?" Watson asked, with a bemused expression.
"Magical isn't it? To feel so close to another human being?"
"Now Molly; Do you believe he's real now?"
"He's very real." Molly said slightly embarrassed.
Molly led them to the morgue. And Mr. John Doe laid in the center of the room; a sheet covering his waxen face.
"So this is your John Doe?" Sherlock mused as Molly removed the sheet.
"Yes, mid twenties, upper class, unmarried, broken family, not blended, High ranking job, future prime minister. He's a young politician. Shouldn't be hard to identify. Just look at commercials, men and women are running for Parliament."
"Ah, Sherlock, its good to see you again. Haven't seen you since your funeral." Sherlock glanced up to find Lestrade waltzing in, followed closely by Thompson.
"Its good to see you as well."
"I've I.D'ed the victim, he's a politician, he's dad was the vice prime minister."
"Who is he?"
"Oh goodness. I was going to vote for him. Wonder why I didn't recognize him?"
"Because he has a spokesperson. Coppers is bringing his twin brother in for questioning."
"This case gets better and better." Sherlock whispered. "Can I speak with the twin?"
"I don't see why not." Lestrade said.
"I'll see you later Molly." Sherlock said, kissing her cheek,
"Well; he's on a roll. Molly how are you feeling?" Watson asked when the three men had left the room.
"Great, confused but great."
"I better catch up. See you soon." Molly was left alone with the late Stephan Colt.
"A shame really, you'd make a great leader. Perhaps Death needs a representative." Molly joked half heartedly. "Sherlock, he's acting so unlike himself. He's never shown me anything close to affection before. Now I receive a hug, a kiss, and a kiss on the cheek. I kike the new Sherlock, I just wonder what happened to the ruthless consulting Detective I grew to love." Molly collapse into her chair, and closed her eyes. Sherlock Holmes was alive.