A/N - Happier with this piece, tried to get the characters to stay in character. Hope you enjoy it! Don't hesitate to review! GV

Disclaimer - I do not own Sherlock.

Sergeant Donavon was an unforgiving woman. Her constant insults and obI ligatory dirty looks were part of her seemingly "appealing" package. The rest of Scotland Yard wouldn't have paid her much attention had it not been for the unavoidable drone of her voice and the opinions she kept on absolutely everything, not to mention everyone. They all knew of her feelings towards Tina the unsatisfactory cleaner who could not, however much she tried, get the desk to look just how Sergeant Donovan had envisioned it. Indeed they too knew about her feelings towards Jeffrey the mail man as he haphazardly dropped her letters yesterday morning sending them scattering across the floor like an array of falling leaves. Worst of all however they knew of her feelings towards him or "the freak" as she called him. "Surely anyone who can tell who the murderer is from a grain of sand lodged in the victims ear is a freak?" had been her most recent argument.

Of course there were those that agreed with her. They were the ones that were equally jealous of the consulting detectives talent and had been seeking a promotion prior to his arrival. Those that actually admired the freak got their ear bitten off by Dangerous Donavon and her sidekick Angry Anderson ( as they had been dubbed by their colleagues ) so had learnt to keep quiet about there feelings and just admire him inwardly.

For Molly Hooper though, inward feelings were a bit troublesome. She had always tried to hide her feelings, bury them away in a deep dark crevice of her mind never to be looked upon again but it never worked. Somehow they would always get one over her and she would end up a fumbling mess whenever Sherlock was around. Even if he so much as glanced in her direction her cheeks would flush and her breath would hitch involuntarily. Everyone knew how Molly felt towards Sherlock, it was no great mystery except perhaps to Sherlock himself.

The consulting detective as usual was working one of the many unsolved cases that found their way to him. A particularly interesting one with a young female who had apparently committed suicide by overdosing on her mothers painkillers but had in fact been murdered by the mother who poisoned her meals for three months as her daughter proved to be competition for her coveted Miss World crown. Of course Sherlock knew this already but Donavon was demanding he prove it and never one for backing down Sherlock would go one better and show her.

Sherlock swept into the morgue and hastily placed his leather gloves on the table. A minute later Donavon arrived red-faced and panting.

"Molly, will you pull out the body of Ms Henshaw. I have a point to prove." instructed Sherlock.

"Oh emmm I was just about to, oh it doesn't matter, of course yeah give me a sec." spluttered Molly.

With that Molly hastily made her way across the morgue and pulled the slab out with the body of Ms Henshaw lying upon it.

" Around the victims mouth there is clear discolouring and the oesophagus and trachea are collapsing from the constant swallowing of drugs. If you were to examine the stomach lining you would find a high concentration of acid also an effect from the drug, put that together with the victims obvious tiredness, dizziness and fever before death which she could find no reason for hence the visits to her doctor and you have the cause of death; poisoning. Done by the mother as she was the only one to feed her child as they were both on a rigorous diet before the show and so, Sergeant Donavon, we have motive and opportunity and the killer, as I believe I already said." exclaimed Sherlock faster than usual obviously exasperated from having to prove his point to an idiot of lower than average IQ.

" Yes well, I suppose." mumbled Donavon. The woman was not amused as Sherlock huffed and waltzed out like royalty. What was his problem? Her gaze quickly returned to the fumbling mortician who was gazing longingly at the door. Seeing a window of opportunity the shamed woman acted.

"You do know what he is yeah?" she smirked.

"Ehm, no, well yes he's a consulting detective, isn't he?" stuttered Molly.

"He's a freak, and that's all he'll ever be. He doesn't feel Molly, he's not human!" exclaimed Donavon as her voice began to get louder.

" Excuse me?"

"He'll never love you, he can't he's a freak." spat Donavon.

" Maybe I don't want him to love me?" said Molly looking straight into the angry woman's eyes.

"Oh come off it love we can all see it!" Donovan said squaring up to the small woman opposite her. She may not be able to stand up to Sherlock but she could win against Molly, they didn't call her Dangerous Donavon for nothing.

" Actually, I don't care if he doesn't look at me twice. He is a brilliant man and maybe just a good one too." shouted Molly. She didn't know what had happened but some dormant hormone had kicked in and she felt the overwhelming desire to best this horrible police officer at her own game. " And for another thing he is not a freak. Just because he doesn't show his feelings doesn't mean he has none. Quite frankly I find you a detestable, nasty jealous woman who for some reason has it in for everyone. Do not call Sherlock a freak because if anyone is a freak it's you!" Molly ended the tirade with a glare that could kill.

Both woman were so locked in combat that they didn't hear the door open and a tall, slender figure enter. Both woman jumped when the silence was interrupted by his deep baritone voice.

" I think it's time you left, Donavon." instructed Sherlock.

Donavon was so shocked by the normally mousy woman's outburst she quickly scampered out, breathing heavily, turning her head to look at the morgue one last time and with a shake of disbelief she was gone.

" Hi Sherlock emm I-I was just emm." mumbled Molly as she wrung her hands together and fiercely turned a burning shade of red.

"Molly, would you like some coffee?"