Author's note: hi everyone! As requested, here is a sequel to " the coffee cup and the suitcase"! If you have not read that fic, I would encourage you to do so before moving on. I have not yet decided where I'm going with this one, so we will be discovering it together. I do hope you enjoy it. Reviews are very much appreciated. Thank you for reading my fics!

I don't own Sherlock, but I wish I did.

The valley of Boxes

The sky had not yet decided if it wanted to clear up or shower the city with rain; Ambiguous and unpredictable, it threatened the hapless citizens with the grey threat of a storm, without giving them the satisfaction of needing the umbrellas they had been carrying around all day. How spiteful.

Molly smiled to herself.

The fickle weather suffered, as its victims, the changing of the seasons. The once vivacious summer green was now giving way to Autumn's palate of reds, browns and yellows. Bright dresses were confined to the wardrobe as scarves and coats made their season debut. It was the time for mushrooms and warm slippers, hot soups and a nice duvet over the bed, and although everyone missed the summer, there was something so comforting about the Autumn, like wearing soft and cozy pyjamas...

"Doctor Hooper…" One of the nurses coughed "I am sorry to bother you, but the corpse has arrived and Mr Hayes is waiting…"

"I'm on my way, Jenny." Molly replied calmly and made her way to the morgue.

When she walked in, Hayes nodded curtly. "Doctor Hooper. The DI sent me and I have been…"

"Good afternoon, Detective Hayes." She smiled.

The young detective hesitated. "Good afternoon."

"I have examined the body for you, and it is quite clear the victim was strangled. Come and see…"

She moved in closer to the corpse and pointed at his throat.

"Do you see those small indentations in the skin around the red line? I believe they are the marks left by pearls."

The detective's brow furrowed. "Pearls? Are you saying that the murder weapon is a pearl necklace?"

"Not just any necklace." The Pathologist shook her head "I think a normal one would have broken under so much pressure, the thread would have snapped. The fact that it didn't means that the thread isn't an ordinary one. It could be that this necklace was made with the intention of using it as a discreet and inconspicuous weapon."

"Are you sure of this?"

Molly shrugged slightly. "It's my opinion, but I'm not Sherlock!"

The detective nodded. "We will have to try and inspect the jewelry of those present to the ambassador's party… Thank you, Doctor Hooper."

"My pleasure."

Hayes walked to the door, paused, and turned around.

"Could I…I was wondering if maybe you'd like a cup of coffe… Or something…"

Molly hesitated. Hayes was a good guy, albeit impatient and sometimes reckless. A fairly attractive man, he occasionally came for help on a case, under Lestrade's recommendation, and everyone spoke highly of him.

But then she remembered her past experiences with office romances…

"Thank you, Hayes, but I'm swamped right now. Maybe some other time."

The detective nodded and walked away, whilst Molly returned to her work.

It was interesting: once she would have stammered and stuttered at the invitation, but compared to Sherlock everyone else just seemed less…Intimidating.

At 7 pm she left the hospital and took the short walk to her flat, pulling her scarf close to her throat as the autumn wind played with the strands of hair that escaped from under the hat her mother had made her. She opened the door, hung her coat and placed the still perfectly dry umbrella in its corner, before making herself a cup of tea.

Holding the comforting drink in her hands, she sat by the window.

"Ah, so you've made up your mind." She muttered softly to the sky as the rain finally began to fall on the busy streets of Manchester.