RIGHT HERE WAITING

A/N: I was struggling with another fic that I was writing so I wrote this. (Yes, I'm that weird.) It's not the sequel to Until We Meet Again (that's on the planning stages), but I hope this will whet your appetite until I can finally write and edit that one. Hope you like this story.

I own nothing. Everything belongs to Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, BBC, Steven Moffat, and Mark Gatiss. If I owned Sherlock and Molly Hooper, then there would be a lot more Sherlolly in the show. All mistakes are mine. Reviews and constructive criticism are welcome.

All Molly wanted for her birthday was a text message from Sherlock saying that he was alive and safe.

After a relatively easy day at work, she went to dinner with John, Mrs Hudson, and Lestrade. She had hoped that they would assemble at 221B Baker Street because she wanted to be surrounded by Sherlock's belongings (which remained untouched at Mycroft's request). But John shook his head, clenched his jaw, and balled up his hands into fists at the mention of Baker Street, so they decided to go to Angelo's restaurant instead. When John told the owner that it was her birthday, the man asked all his customers to sing for her. The gesture brought tears to her eyes and made her hug Angelo and kiss him on the cheek.

"Is she Dr Molly Hooper?" he asked John as she sat back down.

John glanced at her before giving the man a questioning look. "How did you know her full name?" Molly, Mrs Hudson, and Lestrade stared at Angelo with furrowed brows and waited for his answer.

Oblivious to the stares, Angelo laughed. "Oh, Sherlock had mentioned her a few times. Said she was his pathologist." Unmindful of the jaws dropping around the table, he turned to Molly, who was taken aback by what he said. His pathologist? "I am sorry for your loss. He was a good man. You know, I've never believed all that rubbish about him. Absolute lies. And without him, I'd have gone to prison." He took out a small item from his trouser pockets. He smiled as he showed an 'I Believe in Sherlock Holmes' pinback button to each person at the table.

The sad and pained look that John had worn for the past nine months returned. "Thank you, Angelo." His voice was even, though he had tears in his eyes.

"Anytime, Dr Watson. Let me know if you'd like one of these buttons. I've got loads of them." John didn't answer but nodded at him. Angelo turned to Molly. "Happy birthday, Dr Hooper." He beamed at her before taking his leave.

Silence fell over them after Angelo left. They took a sip from their drinks (beer for the men and white wine for the women) as they glanced at each other. Molly cleared her throat after taking a big gulp of her wine. "Perhaps we should get one of those buttons," she said. The other three nodded but said nothing. Mrs Hudson squeezed her hand and gave her a sad smile.

They left the restaurant shortly afterwards. Outside, Angelo insisted on giving each of them a few 'I Believe in Sherlock Holmes' pinback buttons. Molly thanked him for the free dinner when everyone had received a pocketful of buttons.

"Oh, you're welcome. Sherlock's friends are also my friends. And I'd do anything for his woman." Before she could deny his last statement, he waved them goodbye and left them standing at the kerb.

John moved to hug her. "I wonder what Sherlock told him," he whispered to her. His teasing tone made her blush.

"I don't know," she whispered back to him. "Are you all right?"

He pulled away from her and nodded, although she could see that tears welled up. "Yes, of course. I just…" He ducked his head and wiped something off his eye. "It's only been nine months. I still miss him." He gave her a sad smile.

She reached for his hands and squeezed them. "I miss him too. He was a good man."

He nodded and then smirked. "He was also an insufferable git." His eyes softened as he squeezed her hands. "I'm sorry for all the hurt he inflicted on you. I think he considered you his friend. And, thanks to Angelo, we now discovered that he probably fancied you. Unfortunately, despite being a genius detective and scientist, he was an utter idiot when it came to women."

His last words brought back memories of Sherlock's lips on hers on the night he stayed at her flat. She ducked her head to hide the blush on her cheeks. "He probably didn't declare his undying love for me whenever he mentioned me to Angelo. I'd love to know, though, how my name came up in their conversations."

John laughed, his head thrown back in genuine mirth. From the corner of her eye, she saw Mrs Hudson and Lestrade glance at them. "So do I, Molly. But Angelo did say that he called you his pathologist. I think that's pretty close to declaring his feelings for you. I mean, only Sherlock would do that."

She giggled. "That's true. He showed his affections in surprising and weird ways."

He looked into her eyes. "You loved him, didn't you?"

"Yeah. I still do, actually. And probably until I take my last breath."

John pulled her close and wrapped his arms around her. "I wish he were here to hear that. Maybe, he'd take his head out of his arse and tell you how much you meant to him. I know he cared about you. He was just too much of an idiot to realise it." He kissed her on the cheek and released her.

"It's about time, John," Lestrade spoke behind him and smirked at him. "You can't keep the birthday girl to yourself. We'd like to hug her too." John stepped back and the DI hugged Molly and kissed her on the forehead. "Happy birthday, Molls. Did you know that I told all the criminals to lighten your workload by not killing anyone today? You're welcome." She laughed and kissed him on the cheek.

Mrs Hudson followed and tenderly embraced her. "Happy birthday, Molly. When are you coming by Baker Street? We'll have tea and chat about Sherlock calling you his pathologist." She released the giggling Molly and kissed her on the cheek.

"Sure, Mrs Hudson. How about this Saturday?"

The elderly woman smiled. "I'd love that."

"Ready?" Lestrade asked Molly, who nodded. Mrs Hudson and John waved them goodbye, and the latter began to hail a cab for the two of them. The detective led the pathologist to his car and he unlocked the doors using his key fob. They got into the car and drove off shortly afterwards. Twenty minutes later, Lestrade parked in front of Molly's flat.

"Thanks so much, Greg." She was about to open the car door when she noticed that he was chewing his lower lip. "Everything OK?"

He chuckled. "Yeah, yeah. Um, listen, I was wondering if…" He scratched his head. "Um, would you like to go to dinner with me sometime?"

"You mean, on a date?" He nodded. She looked down on her hands and bit her lip. She liked Lestrade and thought he was a good man, but she wasn't attracted to him. Sure, he was attractive, and he deserved someone who loved him and would be faithful to him. But that woman wasn't her. She also knew that her heart would always belong to the consulting detective. She didn't want to get involved with anyone until Sherlock finished his mission and came back to London for good. "I-I'm sorry, but I'm, uh, I'm not ready to date yet. Even after nine months, it's difficult to let go of Sherlock's memory. Especially after hearing what he had told Angelo. I'm sure I'd be thinking about the could-have-beens for a while. I'm really sorry, Greg." She wanted to hold his hand, but she didn't want him to misinterpret that simple gesture.

He nodded and smiled sadly. "It's OK. I understand. Wow, your love for him really runs deeply, eh?"

"Yep." She smiled as she remembered something. "My landlord's sister is single, though. Well, she was widowed three years ago. I think she's your age. She's lovely, and I think you'd get along perfectly. Would you like her number?"

He chuckled and shook his head. "I don't know, Molly. Seems too soon to pursue another woman after being rejected. May I think about it?"

"Of course, of course. Just let me know and I'll set you two up."

He chuckled again. "This is one of the things I like about you. You care a lot about other people. It's a shame that Sherlock couldn't figure out his feelings for you before he died. Honestly, you were perfect for each other. He would have been the luckiest man on the planet."

She smiled. "Thanks, Greg. And thanks for the lift. Goodnight." She exited the car and unlocked the front door. She waved goodbye to the detective before locking the door behind her and ascending the stairs.

Toby greeted her when she reached the landing. "Hi, Toby. Are you hungry, boy?" He meowed in response. "Come on then." She led him to the kitchen and refilled his food bowl. He meowed his thanks.

She quickly changed into pyjamas and got ready for bed. She was putting her red pumps (a birthday tradition she started when she moved to London) back into her closet when her gaze fell on a purple box. She smiled as she picked it up. She set it on her bed and carefully opened the lid. She removed the item wrapped in white tissue paper and placed it on her lap. After staring at it for a moment, she removed the tissue paper and uncovered a blue scarf.

She brought it to her nose and inhaled. Traces of Sherlock's scent lingered on the scarf. God, I miss you. She hugged it to herself and closed her eyes.

Her beeping mobile made her open her eyes and drop the scarf on her lap. She took the phone out of her purse and smiled at the text message alert. She took a deep breath before unlocking her phone.

Happy birthday. - S

Thanks. Are you safe? Are you eating well? Sleeping well? - xM

As well as I can. I am safe, for now. - S

Good. How's my scarf? - xM

It's in good condition. I've managed to keep the blood off it. - S

I don't even want to know. - xM

No, you don't. You'll be safer if you didn't know the details. How's my scarf? - S

Also in good condition. It still has a bit of your scent on it. - xM

You're smelling it, aren't you? - S

Yes. Problem? - xM

No. How can my scent linger on? It's been nine months. - S

I've been keeping it in a box since you left. - xM

Clever. Thank you. - S

You're welcome. - xM

How's everyone? - S

J's back in therapy. Otherwise, things have gone back to normal. Well, as normal as they can be. Surely, your brother has told you that? :) - xM

How are you? - S

I'm OK. Been working a lot. - xM

Dating anyone? - S

No. I'm just waiting for you to come back home. - xM

It will take a while. But I'll come back. - S

I know. I'll be right here, waiting for you. - xM

Good. And don't date Lestrade, for God's sake. - S

How did you know about that? - xM

My brother just texted me that Lestrade's at a pub and he's telling his mates that you turned him down. - S

I did. I don't like him that way. - xM

Good. Sorry, I have to go. My brother's been calling. I can't ignore him any longer. - S

OK. I'll talk to you later. Be careful out there. Don't forget to eat and sleep. - xM

Yes, madam. Happy birthday again and goodnight. - S

Thank you. Goodnight. - xM

She stared at her phone for a few moments before placing it on her bedside table. She then rewrapped the blue scarf and replaced it in the purple box. She put the box back in her closet.

She let Toby in and got into bed. She petted the feline as she thought about the day's events. All she wanted was a text message from Sherlock saying that he was alive and safe. What she got was so much better. She found out that Sherlock had referred to her as his pathologist. Possessive much, Sherlock? He also wished her a happy birthday. I'm actually surprised that he knew it was my birthday. He seemed to be relieved that she wasn't dating anyone. Not even Greg, eh? And, yes, he was alive and safe. Thank God, she thought. She smiled as she finally drifted into sleep.

The alarm on her mobile woke her the next morning. She was surprised to see a text message notification when she stopped the alarm. She blushed and laughed when she read it.

Oh, I've been conducting research. And I hope to begin our experiment soon. - S

So, what do you guys think? Do y'all like it?