Hello, wonderful readers! This is my fourth fic and I'm planning on it being a many chaptered story, hopefully. This chapter is really short and I'm sorry! I promise that the others wont be this short I just wanted to establish my version of Molly before I got into it. I hope you're ok with Molly like this. Maybe you'll see her as a bit selfish but you'll see she really isn't that bad in the future. Anyway I hope you enjoy :) Sorry for any mistakes :)

Disclaimer- I do not own Sherlock or any of the characters. They belong to the BBC and those two geniuses Moffat and Gatiss :) If I did Sherlolly would have happened already :)

Molly Hooper wasn't satisfied. She knew she should be, knew that in all honesty, she didn't have a right to be unhappy. But she was. She couldn't help it.

She knew she had everything that any normal person could want. A job, a great pay check, a nice flat, a …. a fiance. It just wasn't enough. She was greedy. She wanted more.

So she broke it off with Tom, told him he was lovely, that it was her and not him, all the normal things.

Because that was what he was. Normal. And normal just wasn't enough for Molly Hooper.

She sighed, staring at the empty wine glass in her hand, wishing, just wishing that she felt even the slightest bit guilty, that she wasn't really this selfish.

It didn't work. This was her. This was who she was and she couldn't change. Heaven knows she tried, she really tried. She went to med school for seven years, determined to have a normal career. That didn't work out, she became a pathologist. A doctor for the dead. No matter how hard she tried, tried to be satisfied, tried to be happy, normal. It never worked. Looks like Molly Hooper just wasn't a particularly nice person, despite what everyone thought.

She was sick of trying. It was just a few days a go that she realised.

She wanted to live. Really live. Have adventures, do crazy dangerous stuff. She didn't want to settle for everyday, monotonous life.

That was why, she assumed, she was so attracted to Sherlock Holmes. Because he was the opposite of normal.

Molly cursed herself. She didn't know why she tried, why she thought she being normal would appeal to him. Why had she asked him for coffee, why did she dress up for the christmas party? It wasn't something the real Molly Hooper would do. The real Molly Hooper hated dressing up. The real Molly Hooper hated the idea of dating.

But she believed in love, believed in emotions and their importance and that was where she differed from him. She didn't see sentiment, caring or love as a weakness, rather she saw them as the only things worth pursuing. She just wanted it to be exciting, and violent and truthful. She wanted her story to be like the books she reads, like the films she watches.

Maybe that was sad. She didn't know. She didn't care.

That was why when Sherlock Holmes had burst into her lab that morning, and asked for her help, she had said yes right away.

It was a Friday afternoon, Molly was nearing the end of a long shift, cleaning up her last body. The late June sun was seeping in through the blinds and Molly found herself soaking in the gentle atmosphere it created in the lab. She was just touching up the paperwork when the doors burst open, slamming violently against the walls. She didn't jump, though she couldn't deny the extra beat her heart took as she looked up to meet the eyes of Sherlock Holmes.

"Hello Molly." He said, calmly. His eyes didn't lift from hers until she found herself blinking away. Just because she wanted danger, it didn't mean she wasn't shy. It was hard not to be shy in the presence of Sherlock.

"Sherlock." Molly nodded in reply.

"Are you... okay?" He asked, he almost sounded concerned.

"Umm... Yep. Yes I'm fine. Thank you?" Sherlock Holmes never asked anyone if they where okay as far as she was aware. He was still staring at her and she was beginning to feel unnerved. What is going on?

"Are you sure?"

"Pretty sure, look Sherlock what's this about? If you want something just ask me but otherwise can you stop staring?"

"You haven't seen the TV? Or your phone? Or anything with a screen?"

"No I've been up to my elbows in Mr. Thompson all afternoon. Why?" Molly watched carefully as Sherlock reached into his pocket pulling out his phone.

"Now Molly before I show you this, I need you to know that there's no need to be scared, or cry... Please don't cry." He said cautiously, turning up the volume slowly.

"Sherlock I promise I won't cry."

"Okay."

She heard it before she saw it. The voice was distorted but she knew, she knew who it was.

"Did you miss me, Did you miss me."

No, she thought, I didn't.

Her eyes shot up from the phone, showing a mixture of fear and excitement.

"It can't be him. It can't be him. How is this possible Sherlock?"

Sherlock, who had been watching the pathologists reaction carefully, took his time before replying.

"I don't know."

Oh great. If Sherlock didn't know then as far as she was concerned, they were all stuffed.

"This is impossible! I did his postmortem myself, I had nightmares for weeks! For pity sakes he blew half his head off!"

"I don't know." Sherlock replied. "I don't know how he did it Molly. I don't know. It might not even be him, it might be an impersonator. All I know is that if it is him, you are in a lot of danger."

"Why? What would he want from me?" Molly was knew it was wrong, knew she should be scared, and she was, in all honesty, she was terrified but she couldn't deny the excitement stirring in her.

"I told you before Molly. You were his mistake. You were what went wrong. You got in the way of his plans and humiliated him. If he's going to go after anyone Molly it's you." Sherlock stepped closer, taking her hand gently and holding it in both of his. "I need your help Molly."

Molly's head snapped up immediately. Was this him using her again? After everything they'd been through?

"I... I have a plan Molly, but I need your help. It might be dangero.. no scrub that it is dangerous. Its very dangerous. But I think that its the only way, the only chance that we have of getting rid of him once and for all."

"Ok. I'll do it."

Sweat began to pool in her hands, she was scared but... this was it. This was the adventure she'd been waiting for and she couldn't turn him down, no matter how scared she was this were her chance. Besides... It is Sherlock after all.

"What about John?" Molly had to admit, she was a tiny bit confused as to why he was asking her and not John.

"John's coming too. And Mary"

"Wait.. Coming? Where exactly would we be going?"

"Look it's complicated Molly but, lets just say that it may involve some undercover work, and not necessarily in this country."

"But.. but why..." Molly blinked rapidly, looking up and peering into his eyes, searching for something, anything to tell her that this was real, that he wasn't just saying this. "Why me? I mean surely you need someone who's actually trained for this, I don't know, like one of Mycroft's agents or something?"

She remembered Mycroft from when he came to the morgue once with Sherlock to look at the body of Irene Adler. She shuddered as she remembered how Sherlock was able to identify her from just her body.

"I need you Molly. I don't trust any of them but I trust you."

"Okay. I'll come." Sherlock smiled gently, dropping her hand before turning back the way that he came.

"We leave tomorrow. You don't need to pack I'll pick you up at 6." He called over his shoulder.

"Wait what about work?" Molly shouted after him.

"Taken care off." He shouted the reply without even turning back.

Well this is it. She thought. This is where it all begins.

Please review, if you have the time of course :)