The Dance

Molly sat on her stool in the quiet morgue. She'd been filling in an endless pile of paperwork for an hour and a half now. A half empty box of noodles sat next to the 'finished' pile. SHe looked at her watch. 21:45. SHe only had a few papers left, she might as well stay to finish them, besides, she didn't have anyone to get home to.

Hopping off her stool, she put her mp3 into her small speakers and her favourite song came on. She closed her eyes for a moment and swayed to the lilting melody. She twirled on her toes back to her place but smacked into something curiosly torso-shaped.

She opened her eyes nervously and she found herself staring into a deep purple shirt.

Her stomach dropped.

Molly looked up slowly, knowing the face she would see.

Diamond eyes smiled gently down at her, bemused. Glossy deep brown curls framed sharp, defined cheek bones and his coat was thrown carelessly on the table closest to the door.

Sherlock took Molly's slightly trembling hand,  kissed it softly and placed it on his broad but streamlined shoulder. He splayed his hand on her lower lower back and pulled Molly closer so they were chest to chest, sending shivers down her spine.

He cradled her other hand close to his chest as if he were holding a delicate rose or a rare butterfly. Molly pressed her lips together and hesitantly restedhier head on his chest. She could feel the warmth of his skin and the beat of his heart through his thin shirt. Sherlock started to sway her in time to the gentle ebb and flow of the song and they turned slowly.
Dolls on a music box.

Molly took a deep breath, breathing him in. He smelt fresh and clean. Not of overpowering aftershave or heavily scented soap. He smelt of stars and the breeze.
Of the night.

They moved in perfect unison. Together. Molly had never felt so complete or as safe as she did then. Dancing in his arms. Her scences filled with Sherlock...

"What are you doing?" Said a deep voice from the door. Molly turned with a start, almost losing her balance. Sherlock stood in the door way, leaning against the door frame. "Oh1 Hello! I was just, erm, dancing I guess," she babbled. With you, she added inher head. Sherlock titled his head to the side for a moment and the gave her a quick nod. "Goodnight Molly," he called, sweeping swiftly out of the morgue.

She waited untill his footsteps faded away.

"Sweet dreams, Sherlock..."