For lilsherlockian1975, a gift just because I think you are awesome! Also, SURPRISE! I bet I had you fooled with that question about a friend of a friend...right? :-)

Oh, and there will be smut. Also, I'm not sure what season this is, nor do I care. Okay, maybe I do care, I'm thinking sometime in S3 or a little after…maybe? Anyway…I started this a long, long time ago and it's been sitting on my flash drive waiting. I wasn't sure it was all that good, especially as a nice little gift…but then I remembered it's the thought that counts so…here you go.

Warning dear reader: this story is not beta'd. For I wanted this to be a surprise for my fellow writer and lovely friend who takes the time to look my stories over…Didn't think it was right for her to look it over seeing it's her gift!

Also,I'm not planning to have this story go too long. So never fear. I'm thinking 4 or 5 parts…no more than 6!

As with all things Sherlock I don't own the characters…and the world, as should you, sighs with relief!

I took the title from a song sung by Nat King Cole and later Natalie Cole. Don't fear. This is not a songfic. However I have put a small quote of it in the quote section before my little story. I don't own the song or the right to even quote it but then the great Doyle's estate would perhaps say the same about certain quotes I have and will continue to use in all my stories.

~*~Orange Colored Sky ~*~

~*~Part 1~*~

Like all Holmes' reasoning the thing seemed simplicity itself when it was explained. He must have read the thought upon my features, and his smile had a tinge of bitterness.

'I am afraid that I rather give myself away when I explain,' said he. 'Results without causes are much more impressive…'

-The Stockbroker's Clerk by Arthur Conan Doyle

'I was walking along. Mindin' my business. When out of the orange colored sky. Flash! Bam! Ali-ca-zam! Wonderful you came by…'

-from song, 'Orange Colored Sky'…sung by Nat King Cole

~*~SHERLOCK~*~

Sherlock Holmes is a man who is always more concerned with what was going on in his head than what was going on with his body. It seemed to be a well-known fact among others around him. Those that called themselves his friends knew this. Hell, they sometimes acted as if they even accepted this fact. Though to be honest, John would growl something like, "You are not a bloody machine, Sherlock. No! You are a crazy brilliant sod!" Not that what John said always mattered.

Nope. In fact, his body could get quite cold or hot, even experience physical pain and he'd still focus his mind with sharp perception upon whatever case was at hand. He'd even go without food for days if necessary thinking that it might slow him down…and heaven forbid that he or his great mind ever slowed down!

Sherlock knew without a single doubt that he worked better when he was completely involved and focused on a case. He enjoyed it when the case was an eight and above…A ten was quite rare but they did happen. Lately, however, he was getting nothing but sixes and under. Not even a bloody sodding seven and the boredom of it all made him want to redecorate his wall once more with bullets! Or take the case of the missing poodle named 'Miss Tickles'…Heaven forbid.

Anyway, let's say he did shoot up one of the walls of his flat…Perhaps with his own initials this time around…Or even his full name…Goodness that would be impressive wouldn't it? Or maybe he'd shot in the wall that his brother was a complete arse…Of course, Sherlock would have to buy more bullets if he was hoping to do that…Call Mycroft an arse…or put his own long full name into the wall…Hmm, decisions, decisions…

Though to be perfectly honest what he really needed was a bloody cigarette! However he had decided to quit…AGAIN! He could easily start thinking of vulgar words that was certain…He needed a blasted cigarette! Really he did.

Also the next person to tell him that smoking kills…He'll happily remind them that he can kill too…Just much faster.

Though mainly he need a case…A damn fine one would be nice! Much higher than a stupid six! Seriously, it was highly annoying when the criminal element became lazy and didn't even attempt at being creative!

Fortunately as he was thinking this like magic…though yes, he knew bloody well magic didn't exist only grand illusions did…Still…Lestrade rang him up and informed him that he wanted him to come and take a look at a body…

Which he happily did, of course, all the while he tried his bloody best not to look too hopeful or too excited about this body…about this new case…or how it just might be a good, lovely high number, perhaps even Christmas which is a ten, so completely worth his time and effort.

Sadly, all the case did was but him in a seriously foul dark mood. Much more than he had already been in.

For the case proved to be much too simple…

A married man had rented a small flat under an assumed name so he could cheat more easily on his wife, all the while thinking she wouldn't find out. Right. Yet she obviously did for she had shot her cheating husband twice in the chest…In the very flat that had borne witness to his infidelities.

She had used a heart shaped pillow as a silencer. The idiot probably didn't even realize that there was a gun behind it until she shot him. She had left his wedding ring which he faithfully removed time and time again next to hers upon a nearby table. It had been removed for the first time after so many years. She even left a message with the word 'Sorry' on a bright pink post-it note.

The man had about four different ID's and credit cards with different names as well…It wasn't hard to figure out which was his real ID, however. The one that didn't have that that flat's address on it, of course.

Then he informed Lestrade who had exactly done the murder and why…Also, Sherlock told him that when an officer went to go pick up the wife they really shouldn't expect a fight. In fact they would find another body…The wife.

So another day totally wasted! He needed a good bloody case! That is what he needed. Sherlock needed a case that made him and his mind leap with joy and shout, 'It's Christmas!' But was that happening? Hmm? Was it, nope, it was not!

God! What the bloody hell was wrong with the criminal element of London? Seriously, what? Why couldn't they attempt to rob a bank? Kill someone…Hell, a good maiming was always quite fun!

So, with Sherlock mentally hating all the stupid criminals that didn't even try to be interesting! Hell, they could attempt to at least do a number seven! Yet, it seemed that all the normally creative criminals were staying home and watching some crap telly…

He had left Lestrade and then he decided to order a cab to take him to Bart's.

Perhaps he could do an experiment in the lab or have Molly give him some body parts.

When Sherlock got there, he went straight to the morgue to find Molly Hooper and when he saw her, he noticed right away that Molly seemed…well…nervous…Quite nervous actually.

He was surprised to suddenly remember that it had been years since his little pathologist has been nervous around him. Yet, here was his Molly, standing before him, biting her lip lightly. Her dark brown eyes, as well as her body language shouted that she was highly nervous…Oddly enough, Sherlock found himself charmed by it. Whereas once he would have been overwhelmed with annoyance.

He hadn't realized until this exact moment how much he had missed her sweet little attempts at trying to get his attention, one he had faked at being clueless by.

For a long time now she seemed to accept that they were simply friends and that was true. They were good loyal friends. Sherlock had come to trust her greatly and he was perhaps…just perhaps…fond of her in his own way.

"Um, Sherlock…" Molly spoke hesitantly. "I…um…well…I have a-a question for you."

Sherlock simply waited a long moment before he sighed as if the coming question already greatly annoyed him before replying quite slowly and pointedly. "Yes?"

His Molly, always his Molly, took a deep breath and closed her eyes as if trying to come up with the correct words to form the question properly. Perhaps she feared he would laugh or mock her…which let's be honest was always a strong possibility…

Surely she wasn't going to ask if he wanted a cup of coffee! God! For Sherlock was certain that they had gotten past this nonsense!

After a long moment of silence Sherlock found himself saying calmly, "So, you said you have a question?"

Molly opened her lovely brown eyes to say carefully and calmly, "Yes, right…Okay, Sherlock, will you please use your lovely detection and observation skills to—" Molly bit her lip nervously before continuing, "find me a keeper…a-a man, for me…please."

~*~End of Part 1~*~

Yes, this is a small part...

More will be coming soon, promise! It's even longer...

However I would like to know if others wouldn't mind wanting more…

it could get me to send the next part faster…

Just a thought!