"Leaving England? Are you serious?"
Molly nodded. "Tom's been offered a great job in America, Sherlock. We've been engaged for a long time now. We both think it's time to take this step and finally get married. This will be the perfect way to start our lives together."
"Oh. Well I suppose if you'll really be happy there. I just thought that even after you got married you'd still be working at Bart's."
She shrugged. "I'll just get a new job once we're settled." She couldn't quite look at him. "I'll make arrangements before I go so you'll still be able to get whatever body part you might need."
"Thank you." He said that more coldly then he meant to. Work continued as it always did. Molly assisted him. He ran the tests he needed in Bart's lab and called Lestrade to let him know what was needed to solve the case. It was all so routine a robot could have done it. He kept himself focused on task, shutting out feeling for most of the day. He was about to leave the lab when he looked at Molly.
"You're leaving soon, aren't you?"
She nodded. "In the morning. I know, I should have told you sooner."
"In the morning?" It wasn't often he was surprised by anything. "I should have been able to deduce that."
"Well, you've been preoccupied with cases lately."
"But I still should have seen that."
Molly looked like she wanted to say something else. But turned away. Sherlock had no idea what to do about it, but he could tell from her expression she was about to cry. There was no way he'd admit it, but he was far from happy himself. He knew she was engaged, but now it felt real. Molly was really going to be gone from his life.
Sherlock walked away from Bart's, and decided he needed a cup of coffee. He could have asked Molly for it, but it would have been a reminder of how she'd brought him coffee the day he'd met John. He'd treated her like a servant, and he felt guilty beyond words over that now. It was just too late. He'd lost any chance with her during the two years he was gone. Ironic that it was during that time he realized how important she was to him.
Still, this was better. Nothing could ever have come of it anyway. He didn't want a married life, kids, being domestic. He'd have been miserable, and made her miserable too. Why should either of them spend a life with her held at arm's length, helping him when he needed it and denied a happy life otherwise? He kept telling himself that as he went into the nearest place where he could get coffee.
Two people were arguing at the cash register, one who worked there and one who was obviously from the streets.
"Look, all I want is a meal. I'm not trying for trouble," he tried to smooth things over as Sherlock watched.
"Then why'd you give me this phony bill?"
"It's real! I got it by doing an odd job today."
Sherlock didn't recognize the man as part of his homeless network, but then London was full of homeless people.
"Here, can I see that?" the homeless man gave Sherlock a suspicious look before handing him the bill. Sherlock examined it. "It's genuine. Now either give him his meal, or let me buy it for him."
The man behind the counter looked at him a moment before recognizing him. "Aren't you that detective, Holmes?"
"Sherlock Holmes, yes. So you know I would recognize if this were fake."
He stared at the bill a moment before accepting it and giving the homeless man his meal. Sherlock decided to get his coffee elsewhere and walked out. The homeless man followed him, meal in hand.
"Mr. Holmes? Thank you."
"Sherlock, please." He'd never cared for being called Mr. Holmes. "And it wasn't that big of a deal." He walked a bit ahead before turning back. "Do you need a job or something? I pay the homeless for information if it's useful."
The homeless man laughed and started talking to someone who wasn't there. "Did you hear that? He's actually trying to save me." He looked back to Sherlock and held out his hand. "My name's Craig Edwards." Sherlock reluctantly took the offered hand. Craig might have a mental illness of some sort, or be on something although his eyes said otherwise, but he wasn't dangerous. "And I don't need a job. Now, what do you need?"
Sherlock couldn't imagine what Craig could offer him.
"I already have everything I need."
Craig studied him. "You have it in you to be a good man, Sherlock, so I'm going to give you a reward. I'll give you a glimpse."
"Glimpse?" Sherlock asked. "Glimpse of what?"
"You'll see," Craig told him. "You'll like it. No one does at first, but eventually they all do."
Craig started walking in the other direction, and Sherlock let him. He couldn't see what he'd been talking about, and he didn't like being confused. What wouldn't he like now, but would like later? It wasn't as if the homeless man had the power to do anything to him. He wasn't a master criminal, and he hadn't made any move to harm him. In fact he honestly thought he would give him a gift. Yet the whole experience left Sherlock unnerved.
His latest case had been as good as solved by his tests at Bart's that day, and he didn't feel like doing anything in particular. He debated playing the violin or watching some crap telly just to do a few deductions on the people on the shows. In the end he decided against it, and just went to bed, trying to push aside the thoughts of Molly leaving and Craig's strange offer of a glimpse.