A/N: As I said, it was just going to be Sherlock, but...then I decided Molly needed something too. The line 'Red roses for a blue lady' is from the song of the same name. Hope you like :)

Blue

…
Losing him was blue like I'd never known
Missing him was dark grey all alone
Forgetting him was like trying to know somebody you never met
-'Red,' Taylor Swift
…

Everything was blue: her gloves, her mood, her jacket, his eyes…

She closed her own eyes briefly to stop the tears from forming; even though she knew he wasn't dead it still hurt that he wasn't there.

Especially today.

There had never been anything between them, but somehow it just seemed so much worse with him not even in the same city.

She didn't even know where he'd gone, he'd told it would be safer that way but she wished she knew he was all right.

She spent too much of her time thinking about him: worrying about what he might be doing, wishing he could come home.

The worst part about the situation was that he could be dead and she wouldn't know. She would just spend the rest of her life dreaming of him, stuck in limbo, unable to grieve for his loss.

She started as the morgue doors opened and John Watson came in, with Mary's help he was on the mend, but sadness still lingered in his eyes.

"Red roses for a blue lady," he said cheerfully, handing her the small bunch of roses he carried. "I thought you could use some colour in here," he added, looking at her kindly.

She forced a smile for his sake and went to find a vase.

"He wouldn't want you to still be mourning his loss, Molly," John said quietly, watching as she came back with a vase.

Molly remained silent as she concentrated on arranging the roses.

"He'd call it sentiment and you know how he felt about that," he reminded her with a rueful smile.

Molly looked up at him at that, realising that John had finally found a way to make peace with his death.

"I know…I just…" she trailed off, knowing she wouldn't be able to explain without betraying the secret.

John smiled and reached out to squeeze her shoulder, "I know, just…think about it, ok?" he asked, before looking at his watch and making his excuses.

After he left Molly regarded the roses thoughtfully, thinking of Sherlock and wondering where he might be, hoping he was safe.

She knew that what John was saying made sense; even though she knew he was alive she couldn't put her life on hold for him. She should go out, meet new people…but she couldn't.

She was the only person who knew that he was still alive and she felt like she owed it to him to remember; to live as though he was going to pop into her morgue at any given moment.

Because she had to believe that one day he would do just that.

Besides, moving on if he was truly dead would be hard enough, but moving on when she knew that somewhere he was still alive?

Impossible.

There was only one man for her and until he came swanning back into her life she wasn't going to forget that.

And maybe, just maybe, when he came back things would be different.

She smiled a little at the thought as she turned back to her work, taking a sip of her drink as she did so.

Black, two sugars.