Hello,

I know this was supposed to be only a one-shot but the people demanded more. Also my boyfriend's sister read it and apparently worked out that I wrote it and showed it to him. I'm a closet writer, as in I don't like showing my writing to people who know me, so to say I was mortified was an understatement. And to make matters worse the idjit was like "Shouldn't Molly have one of Sherlock?" Yes I kid you not. So you have my Sammy to thank for this extra unexpected chapter. To be honest I'm just glad he didn't ask an erotic ringtone of his own. Anyway here's the next chapter. Enjoy! and Review!

"It's pretty obvious that the cause of death is poison. The blood tests indicate the poison is cyanide. On further examination the puncture mark on the forearm tells us that the cyanide was injected directly into the bloodstream, giving seven minutes for the cyanide to kick in and five minutes until the victim is dead. The cracked skull is at least twenty minutes older, meaning the killer first knocked the victim out and if the burnt marks in the back show anything dragged the victim quite a distance. Judging by the extent of the damage on the skull I would say that the killer is significantly taller and stronger than the victim." Molly took in a deep breath as she finished the report.

It had been a fairly quiet day and this was the only autopsy Molly had performed today. By her standards it was fairly routine, however Anderson insisted on it being more complicated that it really was, this lead to Anderson and an annoyed Lestrade making a wasted visit to the morgue.

"Are you sure you haven't missed anything? It seems a bit too simple for me." Anderson replied after staring at the body for ten minutes.
Molly closed her eyes and counted back from ten to try and stop the anger from surfacing.
"Sometimes, Anderson, the simplest conclusions are the ones we are looking for." Molly spat out through gritted. Lestrade noticed Molly's increasing anger and interjected.
"Anderson take the report and head back to the crime scene and look for something that can cause the head injury. Oh and try not to mess that up too."

With a glare at Lestrade, Anderson reached out for the file in Molly's hand. As she handed it over a deep guttural groan sliced through the air of the morgue. Molly's eyes widened and her cheeks turned an alarming red.
"T-that wasn't me." stammered Anderson. Molly's dropped her eyes to the floor wishing it would swallow her whole. Lestrade could hear her mumbling something like, "Bastard knows I'm at work."

She took a deep breath and looked up.
"It was me." She said, avoiding eye contact, "I-I mean it was my phone." She added hastily. She took her phone out from her pocket to show that it was indeed flashing. Lestrade nodded to her but had a frown on his forehead. He wanted ask more but he knew Molly would never say anything in front of Anderson. He turned to him and gave him a pointed look. Anderson obviously took the hint and left.
"Let me guess its Sherlock?" Lestrade asked. Molly just nodded, as her cheeks turned even darker. Lestrade let a small chuckle out. "You two really are odd." Molly grinned at Lestrade and shook her head. She turned back to the body and started to wheel the body back.
"Tell him I said hi." Lestrade as he left the morgue.
"Bye Greg." Molly shouted over her shoulder. She giggled to herself as she remembered the day she requested Sherlock to record the interesting ringtone on her phone.

It was a rare quiet Saturday evening at 221B. Sherlock was looming over his microscope, John was out with Mary and Molly was curled up in Sherlock's chair with a book. She was unconsciously twirling her hair in her hand when a moan was heard from the kitchen. Molly didn't say anything but a small smile graced her lips.
"You know I was thinking," Molly said still into her book, "Don't you think it's fair that I should have a PERSONAL ringtone of you?" From the corner of her eyes she could see Sherlock's fingers freeze at the dials.
"Pardon?" Sherlock asked. Molly smiled.
"I said don't you think it's fair that I should have a-" Molly was interrupted with Sherlock walking up and placing himself in John's chair.
"I heard what you said Molly." He said. Molly in uncoiled herself into and turned to face Sherlock. She placed the book on the arm of the chair.
"Well it seems unfair that you get to have something very personal of me recorded on your phone and all I have is a Queen song set on mine." Molly leaned toward to try and figure out what Sherlock was thinking. She grinned when she saw him visibly gulp and his pupils dilated. She let out a small chuckle, "It seems to me, Sherlock, that you don't oppose the idea." Molly teased.
"You're right it IS unfair." Sherlock replied. "Maybe you should help me like I did with you?" Sherlock's usual smirk was placed on his lips as he stared at Molly with a challenging gaze. Molly smiled in reply and made her way over to Sherlock. She stopped in front of him and lowered her head so it was level with hers. She could hear Sherlock take in a quick breathe and could see that his were almost black. She was so close Sherlock was sure she was inhaling the air he was exhaling. Molly brought her hand and softly cradled his cheeks. She gently pressed her lips onto Sherlock's. Sherlock began to kiss her back, when Molly withdrew. She slowly skimmed her fingers down Sherlock's neck past his chest and on to his waist. She looked up to Sherlock as her hands found his buckle. She grinned as she saw him gulp. She leaned forwards and breathed in to his ears, "With pleasure."

Molly was brought back to reality as a scalpel fell to the ground. As she bent sown to pick it up, she giggled as she remembered how Sherlock turned into a dishevelled mess at the mercy of her hands. She took out her phone and opened Sherlock's message.

Come to Baker St. I need assistance on an experiment. -SH