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“Just go.” Molly was trying very hard not to snap at the nurses who had brought the bodies down. She’d had plans tonight. It was her first wedding anniversary, and there was lovely lingerie in their bedroom and caviar and oysters at their home and…
And it was all going to go to waste. She’d stopped doing postmortems in general aside from those in cases in which Sherlock was involved and gone back to her studies in orthopedic surgery, as a favour to Mike and all those in the morgue who despised her brother-in-law even after all these years. But as she looked up and saw Greg and Sherlock hanging back after the nurses had left, she crossed her arms. “Molls, we’re sorry,” Greg said, looking as though he actually was.
“And it can’t wait,” Sherlock said, his tone conciliatory. “I’m sorry. I know you and my brother had plans.”
“At least you both feel bad about this,” she said, letting out a sigh. “Don’t tell Mycroft it’s something that can’t be helped. He’ll try and find someone else to do this and I know you both need the best eyes going over these bodies.”
“We told him already so don’t expect to have a horrible night,” Sherlock said. “I’m sure he’s adjusting plans as much as he’s able.”
“He would,” Molly said, smiling slightly. “You two best be off so I can start. I’ll call you as soon as I’m done with all four of these bodies to give you the preliminary results. The tests can wait until tomorrow, right?”
Greg nodded. “Yeah, Molls. Enjoy some of your anniversary tonight.” The two men turned, though not before both kissed her cheeks and offered their thank yous for her sacrifice and then she went back to work. She had expected dinner to be delivered or some other surprise from her husband as a way of making things up, but as her morning turned into afternoon and then the evening, there was nothing. She called Sherlock and Lestrade with a sigh and delivered the news that they had been waiting for from the victims.
She hadn’t realized there was a teenager in the group of bodies, and that had put her in a dour mood as she went to her locker and got her things. It had been the last postmortem she had conducted and it had been obvious the girl had had a tough life. She was trying to forget about the scars she had seen when she heard a throat clear behind her and a woman dressed in a chauffeur outfit standing at the door of the locker room. “Mrs. Holmes, Mr. Holmes has sent a car to take you to your home this evening.”
She gave her a tired smile and a nod. “Thank you.” Even though she’d been living with Mycroft for quite some time, she usually took the Tube back and forth to work because it gave her a sense that even though her life had changed in so many ways, there were still things that were familiar. She took out her handbag and only then saw the letter sticking out. She pulled the letter out and then followed the woman out to the lift and out to the car.
Once in the back, she opened the letter. She knew normally she would have had more questions for the driver to make sure she wasn’t being kidnapped or something, but the woman was familiar. She opened the letter and saw it was in Mycroft’s handwriting.
Dearest Molly,
I know today has been a rough one for you. Sherlock told me there was an adolescent among the victims. I saw the caviar and oysters when I arrived home and they are still chilling and can keep until tomorrow. Tonight I will have prepared dinner for us myself, and you’re to go upstairs and take a long soak and I will bring it up to you. There’s a pair of comfortable flannel pyjamas for you and tomorrow we will both have the day off to spend doing whatever you wish. I love you and hope this is a balm for a rough day.
Your ever loving husband,
Mycroft
She smiled and held the letter close to her chest. A bath, dinner in and comfy pyjamas sounded absolutely perfect. It wasn’t the best way to spend her anniversary, but if was going to be a good evening anyway, and when she got to her home, her husband was going to be soundly kissed before that bath. After all, he deserved it.