A/N: Sorry I left you guys hanging! Thanks to Tinkbrown (my mom, btw), I have decided to publish the continuation of my previous story, When I Was Your Man. You don't neccessary have to read the first story to understand this one, they can be considered as stand-alone stories, but I like it better like this.
Summary: Sherlock faces the biggest case of his entire career; trying to win back the love of his pathologist.
Disclaimer: I do not own Sherlock. There, I said it! *sob*
His Most Difficult Case
John walked into 221B, greeted Mrs. Hudson, then walked up the stairs into his shared flat.
He opened the door to the living room, and found that Sherlock had shut all of the lights off and was lying in the center of the floor, staring at the ceiling.
John sighed, and switched on the living room light.
Sherlock let out a strange squawk, then dove underneath the table on which his laptop was sitting.
John set down his groceries, and said, "What is it now?"
Sherlock hissed from underneath the table, "Turn the lights back off."
John rolled his eyes, then said, "Sherlock, what's going on?"
There was a groan from underneath the table, then Sherlock said, "I have a new case."
John smiled, because when his flat-mate had a case, there would be no bullet holes in the wall for Mrs. Hudson to worry about. He asked in all curiousity, "And what is it?"
There was a long pause, then Sherlock said almost inaudibly, "I've got to get Molly back."
John nodded, now he understood why this particular 'case' was bothering Sherlock so much.
Sherlock's voice cut through John's thoughts, saying, "Now turn the light back off."
Lestraude was signing some paperwork when John burst into his office.
He looked up from his desk, and said, "What is it?"
John looked around frantically, then said, "It's Sherlock. He won't eat, he barely sleeps for all I know, he won't even move from the same spot on the carpet, even for the bathroom!" He threw his hands up in the air, and said, "I know he's... odd to say the least, but I've never seen him like this!"
Donovan walked into the office, and said, "Are you sure he's not out killing someone right now?"
Lestraude turned to her, and said in an exasperated voice, "Not now, Donovan. Just... not now."
John waited until Donovan walked out of the office before he said, "You've known him longer than I have; what is going on?"
Lestraude set down his pen, and said, "I don't know. What's bothering him so much?"
John thought a bit for the right words, then said, "He's got a new case."
Lestraude sat up in his large chair, and said, "Well, shouldn't this be helping things?"
John bit his lower lip, and said, "Not this case... He's trying to get Molly back."
Upon these words, Anderson stuck his head through the door, and said, "He's what?!"
Lestraude looked irritatedly at Anderson, and said, "How many of you are listening out there?"
Anderson shifted his feet, and said, "Just a few guys from the Empty Hearse, a few from Ferenzics, and maybe a few from ME..."
Lestraude held his forehead in his palm, and said, "John, as much as I hate to say it..." He took a deep breath, then said, "I think Anderson can help you more in that field than I can."
Anderson let out a loud squeal, then gathered himself. A few seconds later, however, he said very quickly, "You could say that, well, now that Sherlock isn't dead anymore, well, the Empty Hearse has been converted into a completely Sherlolly supporting fangroup."
John frowned, and said, "First of all; Sherlolly?"
Anderson said offhandedly, "Oh, we had to find a ship-name between Sherlock and Molly, so we all agreed on Sherlolly."
John sighed, then said, "And second of all; how long has your fangroup been stalking my partner?"
Anderson held back a small smile, and said, "We only have an employee at St. Bart's. And, John, you should probably know that a woman called Mrs. Hudson is one of our best spies. She says she gets so good information because... she's your housekeeper? Is that correct?"
John threw his head back, and said, "Mrs. Hudson? Mrs. Hudson? Really?"
Anderson smiled, and said, "Well, if you want Sherlock back, there's only one thing you can do; you need our help to get them together."
John thought this over for a minute or two, then said, "Fine."
Lestraude piped up from behind John, "Hey, can you two kindly get out of my office? I have work to do."
John was sitting in the back of a cab next to Anderson, thoroughly annoyed. Anderson had said that before he helped John help Sherlock, John had to meet the members of what was formerly the Empty Hearse.
So now, they were riding in a cab towards what John susposed was the middle of nowhere.
The cab stopped in front of a large, almost abandoned looking building, and John glared at Anderson. He said, "How long is this going to take?"
Anderson just opened his door, and climbed out. John sighed, and tipped the cabby, then climbed out.
He followed Anderson up the stairs leading to the front door to the building, and paused as Anderson knocked a strange rhythm into the door.
John heard a voice from behind the door whisper, "It's Anderson!" then a large combination a locks, chains, and bolts were taken off of the door.
John gave Anderson a quizzical look, and Anderson just said, "That was Patrick. He owns the place."
John shook his head, and followed Anderson into the now opened door.
A large mess of people greeted Anderson at the door, and just stared awkwardly at John.
Anderson just smiled, and began to point out the individual people; he pointed to a blonde woman crouched in the corner nursing a carton of yogurt, and said, "That's Terry."
He pointed to a large man wearing a bloody apron and brandishing a butcher's knife. John jumped, but Anderson just laughed, saying, "No, no, that's Patrick, he owns the butcher's shop downstairs. He lets us have the meetins up here."
He pointed to a man wearing heavily-tattered flannel and missing many teeth, and said, "That's Tatters." Tatters automatically latched onto John's hand, and shook it up and down with great violence, saying, "It's such a pleasure ta meet ya, James!" John just forced a smile, and said, "Pleasure."
Anderson pointed to a large woman wearing all black and sporting blaring red hair, and said, "That's Marie. Don't... make eye contact." In response, Marie barked, "'O's the shrimp?" John backed away instantly, and held his hands in front of his face.
Anderson just chuckled, and pointed to an extremely thin man with huge chunky glasses and a terrible overbite, and said, "That's Darwin. Do not mention nuclear physics whatever you do."
He pointed to a man and a woman that appeared to be sitting in the same seat, and said, "That's Norman and Tabatha. I don't think I've seen them apart in my entire life, and I was their next-door neighbor for fifteen years."
He pointed to a little girl clinging onto Tatters's pant leg, and said, "That's No-Name. She just started showing up to meetings, I think she's mute; anyway, she doesn't say anything, she mainly just freaks us out."
He pointed to a woman wearing full Slytherin robes, and said, "That's Darla, she's the employee at St. Bart's we told you about." Darla just muttered something like, "Muggles." then moved to the back of the group.
Anderson pointed to a short mousy woman near the back, and said, "That's Mandy, she's our secretary."
He pointed finally to the last person in the group, "And here's the one person here that really needs no introduction to you, John, here, Mrs. Hudson, come to the front."
John smiled at Mrs. Hudson, and said, "So, you're a part of this too? Shame on you." Mrs. Hudson just laughed, and hugged him around the neck, saying, "So, John, are you a member too?"
John shook his head, and said to Anderson, "There. I've met everyone, can we leave now?" Anderson just clucked his tongue, and said, "No, it would be very rude for you not to last out an entire meeting."
John groaned, and sat down in one of the many chairs in the crowded room. Terry automatically crawled out of her corner to John's chair, and said, "Hi. You look nice."
John moved his chair away from her, and said, "Thanks. You know, it's very rude to stare."
Terry just flicked him a card with her number on it, gave him a quick wink, then crawled back into her corner.
Anderson clapped his hands, and said, "Okay, everyone, as you know, we have a very special guest with us tonight. Ladies and gentlemen, meet John Watson, Sherlock Holmes own partner!"
Only Tatters and Terry provided scattered applause, the rest of the club just stared rudely. Marie squinted at him, and said, "Are Sherlock and Molly involved?"
John thought for a second, then said, "Well, they are both very fond of each other, but Molly is too shy to say anything, and Sherlock is too stuck up, so..."
Darla glared a him, and said, "What are you here, anyway?" John started to speak, but he stopped himself, and said, "Yes, Anderson, why am I here?"
Anderson clapped his hands, and bit his bottom lip, and John could tell that something he didn't know was coming up.
Anderson said, "Okay, John, I can't help you alone. I need my team." For 'team' he gestured to the people behind him.
Terry giggled.
John groaned.
Molly walked into St. Bart's that morning, and was automatically confronted by Darla.
Molly smiled her sweet smile, then said, "Oh, hi Darla!"
Darla just stared suspiciously at her.
Molly just shrugged, and continued walking into the morgue.
She walked into the locker room, and opened her locker. She placed her purse inside, then peeled off her coat. She was in the process of pulling on her labcoat when Darla walked into the locker room.
Molly gave her a quizzical look, and said, "Darla, you work at the receptionist's desk. You don't need anything from the locker room."
Darla rolled her eyes, and said, "I just need you to answer a few questions."
Molly shrugged, and said, "Alright. What do you need to know?"
Darla advanced quite quickly on poor Molly, and said very fast, "How much do you know about Sherlock?"
Molly stuttered, "W-well he seemed to like this... heh heh, woman called Irene Adler. She was pretty, pretty smart, but not smart enough for him. He out-smarted her, because he's so intelligent, and intuitive, and COMPLETELY OUT OF MY LEAGUE."
She caught herself near the end of her answer, but Darla pressed on. "What more do you know about this Irene Adler? Why did Sherlock like her so much?"
Molly thought about this for a second, then said, "Well, she was a bad girl. He couldn't read her immediately. He told me once, that he enjoyed someone with layers, someone that he couldn't just read their entire profile with one glance. But what he doesn't know is that I have layers, he doesn't know everything about me, but he doesn't look closely enough, for once."
She started to cry a little bit at the end of this answer, and the harshness in Darla's eyes faded as she said in a softer tone, "Go on."
Molly said through her abundant tears, "I have l-lots of things that he doesn't know about m-me, but h-he doesn't c-care, because I'm not pretty enough, I d-don't attract all of his attention, so he doesn't care to l-look a little c-closer. I could be interesting, I'm j-just not pretty. I'm n-not Irene Adler, so I'll n-never be good enough."
She collapsed in tears against her open locker door, while Darla tried to calm her down.
After about a minute, Molly wiped the tears from her cheeks, and said, "I think I'm good now."
Darla gave her a small genuine smile, and said, "Well, you were right, I'm not susposed to be in here."
Molly nodded, and closed her locker.
A/N: Sorry, this one is going to have to be at least two parts. Sorry guys! :(((((((