Molly had just been upstairs to make coffee. Sherlock had asked her to- as he usually did when he came over to the morgue. He always told her- "Black two sugars" but Molly knew this mantra off by heart.

She hadn't known how any of her previous boyfriends took their coffee. It pleased her just to know this one small detail about Sherlock- it was the only real way she could be close to him at all.

As Molly made the coffee she got lost in her usual fantasy- involving Sherlock. She spent most of her time thinking and worrying about him, following him in the papers. Molly supposed she could be considered a stalker- but she did actually know him. Well if anyone could really know Sherlock.

She took the coffee back downstairs, entering the room where Sherlock had previously been.

Molly was surprised not to seem him. "Sherlock?" she called, worried.

"Sherlock-"

Molly stopped as she spotted Sherlock, asleep at the table he'd been sitting at. His head was resting on the desk, his raven curls flopping slightly over his face. His mouth hung slightly open, yet he wasn't snoring. Sherlock had such an expression of peace on his face, Molly couldn't help but stop and stare at him. It was the first time she'd been able to just gaze at his perfect face uninterrupted.

She was used to seeing dead bodies in a morgue and now she was seeing an angel.

Molly set the mug of coffee down beside him, knowing what would fill her dreams and thoughts for the next few weeks.