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sherlock caps 5/?

Okay, so Molly is Kaylie’s aunt. And the one family relationship that it’s important that Kaylie has is Hank Hooper, who is her grandfather (which would mean that it’s Molly’s dad?) But i know that Molly’s dad is supposed to be dead, plus she’s British and Hank and Kaylie aren’t. So, I was thinking that maybe Molly’s parents divorced? And like her mom was British and she moved back to England with Molly and remarried and that’s why Molly isn’t super wealthy like the rest of them?  Thoughts??!

Anyway, Hank Hooper is super rich bc he’s the founder of Kabletown (which is like Comcast, basically). And he’s looking to retire soon and the only person who could really potentially take over from the family as CEO would be Kaylie when she’s older. And that’s totally what Kaylie wants to do with her life. Which is how she gets to be rivals with Jack Donaghy (Alec Baldwin), who also wants the job. 

Also, I can see where Kaylie might be hesitant about Molly at first, too. But after she meets her I think she can tell that she’s not CEO material, haha. 

Anyway, some stuff I remember about Hank: 

~ He’s a hugger (doesn’t count as a hug unless it goes on for ten seconds) ~ He’s a huge family man and is all about doing things as a family ~ And despite being rich he’s not a snob or anything. Like he likes ppl from all walks of life. ~ He’s like always smiling and happy and a real goof (like he’s kinda a big kid sometimes) ~ But there are like some small things that just get him. Like don’t ever forget his birthday.

HAHAHAH omg I'm just imagining Molly and Hank and just ommmmggggg HAHAHAH Poor Molly.  Fortunately, I think she'd always remember his birthday.

OMG poor gullible Molly would TOTALLY buy it, too!!!!!  She'd be like THIS IS THE SADDEST THING COME HERE LET ME HUG YOU HERE PLAY WITH MY MULTITUDE OF CATS WANNA COME TO THE MORGUE idek.  Molly + a teenager is like the weirdest/best thing in the world basically?????  Also, I really want to see Sherlock/Kaylie tbqh but MOOOOVING ON.

Jim Moriarty needed a pawn, Molly Hooper would happily obliged. Well, she was not really a pawn, to be fair, just an embellishment for the game he was playing with his favorite consulting detective. There were a number of clever ways to get introduced to Sherlock for the first time, but Moriarty wanted to surprise and poor, sighing, pathetic, and heart-broken Molly was going to help him along. In all honesty, Moriarty probably didn’t need the sad, little invisible mouse at all, but he could not pass up the chance to have fun with someone that Sherlock probably made cry at night. 

She was so terribly easy to read. He hadn’t even spoken with her and he already knew that “Jim from IT” would be the sort of man that Molly would be drawn to, like a helpless moth to a flame. Someone who was not at all like Sherlock, someone who listened to her, who cared about her, who treated her how she wished Sherlock would. 

How adorable, someone had an actual crush on Sherlock. How delightfully peculiar. 

He watched her for a moment, through the window as she moved about grabbing test tubes and syringes on her way to the microscope. Baby, you won’t know what hit you. 

He'd rattled it off once and, occasionally, she thought of it to herself each morning as she put on her clothes.  Loose fitting garments: she didn't want to be looked at.  She liked blending into the woodwork: she was better at listening than talking (as Sherlock had pointed out at the time, that much was perfectly obvious).  Large knit sweaters: old but clean.  She wanted to be comfortable, to feel enveloped.  She was steady, not given to loud bursts or abruptness.  She was frugal, both in terms of saving and in other ways, and she was sentimental: hanging on to things that had been given to or made for her years ago.  She had good bones, a pretty enough face, but she never did anything with it.  

He'd called her a mouse and she'd known he was right.  She was efficient, never ostentatious, more concerned with the feelings and needs of others than her own.  Her life was pathetic enough, yet she managed a peculiar kind of cheer, awkward and roundabout as it might be.  Sherlock took one look and summed it up neatly enough, but Molly never assumed he might not be the only one.

The morgue might be odd, but it suited her.  Whatever else might be the case, Molly had an inquiring mind and, besides, in a way she liked sending others off to their rest.  It was peaceful there and none of the corpses were ever reproachful.

Molly chewed her lip, anxiously, tapping one of her test tubes as she watched a cacaphony of bubbles rise towards the top.  So absorbed was she, she hadn't instantly registered someone else's presence and, with a soft gasp, she started at the sound of his voice.

He had kind eyes she thought, oblivious to how ridiculous that thought truly was, all things considered.  Unlike her, he'd also clearly put some thought into his grooming, which Molly respected, and he had a nice voice.  Irish, she'd guess.  And, in her opinion, was attractive.  That was the full extent of Molly's skills of observation and deduction.