A shadow in the corner, a breath whispering across the floor dedicated to the breathless--the deceased--and a reflection across a neglected mirror; Molly Hooper's domain was cold, a suitable start in Sherlock's reemergence into the world of the living. It was only until the girl closed the locker door that he spoke, unchallenged by guilt, for he knew plain and simple that out of all the..'friends' he had, or once had, Molly would be the first to forgive--even if she was the last to discover.

"Molly."

It was clear what differences took place over their years apart. For one; they both looked tired, they both were worn by the days of pressing on and the secrecy of it all. Of course, Sherlock never disclosed his entire plan to the dear friend out of fear that Moriarty had already sewn his way into her life (dating for a week, yes? Plenty of time to do damage). This was, however, remedied by the fact that she was knowledgeable enough to know that he hadn't died that day. She wasn't dull--a direct order to trick the others insured that she wouldn't be in the crowd of believers mourning an empty grave. But the idea of disappearing hadn't been passed as clearly; I think I'm going to die was his only solid statement (even then, a question, a doubt, a thought to convey that his worry was genuine).

He never imagined three years would pass before the safety of others depended on his return. A new shadow was climbing down the abandoned webs of Moriarty before Sherlock could fully swat it away. He stepped forward.

"You've proven your worth--you have my gratitude."

A breath again; cold, but the human in him returned with each moment in the light. An ethereal glow graced him, and his eyes never before gazed without a sharpened edge. Save for today.

Thin heels clicked on the smooth linoleum floor. A vibrant and daring red on the souls of black, in startling contrast. Black being the matching colour of the dress that clung tightly to her slim frame. As she walked around the room, her eyes scanned over everything...so this was where he worked. Interesting, very interesting. 

Obviously, he wouldn't of left it here, and it was more a risk than anything else. However, what was life without a little risk? A girl's ought to have her fun after all, isn't that why she was doing all of this? A soft hum left her red painted lips, which pulled back into taunt smile, "Smart is the new sexy," Irene sighed, finger reaching out to trace gently over a piece of equipment. 

Her back was to the door when someone walked in.