@theartofdeductionx
Christmas time at Bartâs morgue, what a concept. Molly was the most adamant about making the workplace festive. Just because they were toiling over corpses didnât mean she couldnât hang up garland, stockings, and organize secret santa, right? In all fairness, Molly was often the one trying to bring some form of joy to an otherwise dull and dreary place.
This year, she had set up a tasteful advent calendar on her desk, along with hanging a stocking and garland from its edges. Christmas music was slowly humming in the background, and our dear Molly was working on some paperwork.
Sherlock was due to arrive any moment, likely needing her help with a cadaver. Why else would he come? No matter how many times he insisted her importance to him, there was still doubt that crept in. Perhaps she wasnât over the past as much as she liked to pretend. Reguardless, she was focusing herself on work and the Holidays.Â
When ever Molly had entered the morgue, one cadaver had been left out on a metal wheeled table used for transporting the bodies in and out as needed. On it was a black body bag... which soon unzipped itself to reveal Sherlock, who sat up and slid from the table, wrapped in his coat and scarf since the room was rather drafty. Upon seeing Molly, he glanced to his watch to check the time before looking back up, blinking as his eyes adjusted from pitch blackness to a brightly lit room.
âYou forgot it again.â
