"It was the best holiday of my life. Three weeks roaming Italy, stuffing myself with Italian cuisine. Desperately trying to correctly pronounce the words from the Traveller's Dictionary. Navigating through the roads or canals in Florence and Venice. Falling into bed tired but happy, content and with a smile on my face.

And then I met Piero.

It was the best three days I could ever expect to have, and then some more. A chance meeting, a shared gondola and memories to last a lifetime.

As you can see, he was quintessentially Italian, with high cheek bones and dark hair complimented by a ruddy complexion, tall and lean. I was surprised he even glanced at me. Though I was extremely wary initially (I hid my wallet and passport inside my bag and held it even tighter), he had me laughing and spending the whole day with him.

Parting after a shared pizza watching a roadside concert, we shared numbers and he promised to meet me at the Piazza San Marco the next morning. I left with a slightly heavy heart, wishing he hadn't felt the need to lie. But was pleasantly surprised to see him flag me down the next morning as decided. I still held my bag tightly, but let myself enjoy a bit more.

It was a gorgeous day, I had the perfect pasta and showcased my dancing skills as I was swung around by an Italian performer while his partner sang love songs. All the while being watched by a smiling Piero, who somehow now looked at me as if he had deciphered my secret.

That night, he dropped me off at my hotel and we shared a sweet kiss. It conveyed all the pleasure of having good company and a good time. This time when he promised to meet me the next day, I let myself believe him.

The third day it rained, so we spent it indoors exploring museums till he complained of tired feet. Ribbing him gently about his lack of walking practice, we sat in a small café overlooking one of the canals. The rain had stopped, the air was cool and the crowds were thin. When he kissed me this time, it was with passion that I had not felt in a very long time. He conveyed something through that kiss, a promise or a wish, I wasn't sure and I didn't get any time to understand either. When we now moved around the place, he held my hand throughout.

That night he accompanied me to my hotel room …it didn't go all the way, but his kiss before he left me conveyed loads of unsaid things.

The next morning I left for Florence."

As Molly finished her story, having finally managed to start inspite of the continuous interruptions of Bored! and Further? And What an original pose of the happy couple in a Gondola and Can we get to the actual question today? by Sherlock, there was a silence in the room. Sherlock was still sulking at my threat of using his head for dart practice (I am pretty good at darts!) if he didn't let Molly speak.

"Sherlock?" I nudged him.

"Oh, I am allowed to talk now am I," came his sarcastic response.

"Sherlock," I literally growled, and it seemed to work for the time being as he turned towards the surprisingly calm pathologist sitting in the chair usually occupied by clients.

"Thanks for sharing your holiday conquests with us Molly. I am surprised you weren't robbed or pushed into human trafficking!"

Too soon Watson, I internally groaned at my optimism.

Ignoring the acerbic words, Molly ploughed on.

"I need you to find him."

"Why?"

"I need to know he is fine."

"Why?"

"I need to know that he is ok…that he is doing well."

"He seemed capable enough, as seen from your last evening."

She still bravely carried on.

"Will you do this? Can you find him for me?"

"No. Boring. I don't hunt for separated 'lovers'. You should've known his number would be fake."

"It isn't fake. It's just not reachable now."

"SIM probably at the bottom of one of those canals. Really Molly, I expected better from you."

"Why?"

The strength and force in her voice surprised us both, temporarily shutting Sherlock.

"Why? What do you mean why? A single woman putting herself at risk isn't the most intelligent option is it?"

"But that was not a problem when you asked me to help you, was it?"

There was a moment of silence. I could see that Sherlock was as stunned as I due to sheer fury in her voice. She then rose from her chair, and grabbing her purse, removed an envelope that she placed on the table next to me.

"Sorry to bother you. I wasn't asking for any favours, this should cover for your time. If it's less, you know where to find me."

As she left 221B, I turned to the silent detective.

"You prick!"