Dr. Molly Hooper was a scientist by nature and a pathologist by profession, and, as such, she was attempting to observe the body laid out before her dispassionately, but not entirely succeeding. She mentally ticked off her observations, pushing any other thoughts to the darker recesses of her mind.

Male. Definitely male.

Tall, much taller than she. Approximately 184 centimeters.

Weight, approximately 79 kilograms, perhaps. A slender build, but well-muscled.

Distinguishing marks? A small mole on the left side of the neck. And scars. Oh, those scars all over the back, hidden from view at the moment as the body was lying in a supine position, arms at the side.

She then decided to start from the top, working her way downward.

Hair, dark brown, and wilfully curly.

Eye color? Not observable at the moment, as the eyes were tightly closed. Blue? Green? Let's settle for blue/green, then shall we?

The torso was slender, but well-muscled, as she had observed before, but it was certainly worth repeating. The skin which stretched over it was like a fine marble, pale, but not of an unhealthy pallor. The body was certainly not what one would call hirsute, but did contain a healthy sprinkling of soft reddish-brown hair, spread lightly across the chest, and trailing downward towards...

Abdominal scar from a bullet would. She was tempted to touch the scar, but refrained.

Her eyes drifted lower, to the sheet covering what some would consider the more interesting parts, but she passed these over, for the moment, turning her attention to the long legs, the sinews, tendons, and muscles all on display. The legs tapered down to rather large feet, pointing upward as the body lie in repose.

Molly eyes once again returned to the thin sheet covering the body from upper thigh to just below the navel. The sheet would do nothing to protect against the chill of the room, but that was of no concern to the woman at the moment. Her hand was moving to gently slide the thin covering from the white flesh, ready to make her final observations …

But just before her fingers reached the cloth, she saw it twitch a bit, as if it had a life of its own, and a hand reached out to grab her wrist.

"Dr. Hooper, what are you doing?"

"Just making some observations, Sherlock." Molly was blushing a bit as she spoke. "Just how long have you been awake, anyway?"

"Long enough to hear your rather heavy breathing, doctor!" He studied the small woman, never letting go of her wrist. "I expected you to sleep a while longer, Molly. Evidently, I didn't provide you with enough exertion…"

"Well, you seem to have recovered quite quickly as well, Sherlock!"

"It would seem so. Have you finished with your observations, Dr. Hooper? Because, if so, I would very much like to continue with our experiments…"

A slow, and slightly seductive smile spread across Molly's face, matching the one on the detective's. "Ready when you are, Mr. Holmes!"

"Excellent! Because, as much as you know I hate the use of slang, and euphemisms, I feel compelled to express my current condition in the following way." The much taller man then flipped the petite pathologist onto her back, nuzzling her neck as she giggled, waiting for the inevitable pun she knew was coming. "Your 'stiff' is getting stiff, Dr. Hooper. What do you intend to do about it?"

So, she showed him.