Yeah, this just happened. Rating for sexy talk. Happy New Year everyone!

Thanks to Mizjoley for her betaing work, as always.

I own noting. Enjoy. ~Lil~


John showed up at 221B Baker Street bright and early on Thursday morning, just like he always did, only to find his best friend and part-time working companion in quite a strop.

"Sherlock, why did I just pass Molly Hooper in the foyer?" he asked.

The detective looked flummoxed for a moment. "Toes!" he grumbled. "She was bringing me toes."

"At 8.30 in the morning? No wonder she was in a mood." John went into the kitchen to put the kettle on.

"What are you doing?" Sherlock asked.

"Making tea, what else would I be doing?"

Sherlock studied him for a moment, looking quite... well not himself, actually. "Sherlock, are you okay? Is everything all right?"

"Yes, yes. Fine. But why are you here?"

John shook his head. "It's Thursday, Sherlock. I always come round on Thursdays."

"Really? It's... Thursday?"

John wasn't the least bit surprised that his friend didn't know what day it was. But there was something off about his behaviour. "Sherlock...?"

He just sighed, hands on his hips and looked around the room. "I suppose you'll just have to come with me... Ah, I have to, um, acquire an item... for a case." He started for the bathroom, then paused and looked back at John. He then turned sharply and went into his bedroom. He was in there for several minutes before coming back out. "I'll be ready to leave in twenty minutes, enough time for you to enjoy your tea." Then he disappeared into the loo.

Weirder than usual, John thought. And that's saying something.


True to his word, Sherlock was out and dressed twenty minutes later. Then he and John were off across London in a black cab.

"Where are we going, Sherlock?" John asked as the watched the buildings go by. He'd not heard Sherlock give the address to the cabbie as he'd been on the phone with Mary.

Sherlock ignored him, completely lost in his thoughts. So John gave up. Just a few minutes later the cab stopped on Broadwick Street in front of... Agent Provocateur? What?

"Sherlock?" he started to ask as the detective got out and rushed into the store. But his friend seemed to be even more single minded than usual today. All John could do was follow.

Once in the store he found his friend frantically going through a stack of knickers. John stood back and watched as Sherlock moved from one stack to another. This process continued until he shouted 'found 'em!' far too loudly, attracting the attention of several shop-goers. That was about enough.

"What the hell is going on? Why are you looking for frilly knickers?" he asked the joyous detective.

Unfortunately Sherlock wasn't paying a bit of attention. "NO!" he shouted. "Extra small, medium, large! Damnit I need a small!" He looked up just as a sales attendant approached.

"Can I help you sir?" she asked, looking slightly frightened.

"Yes! I need this," He held up the pink and black lace pants. "In a small. You're missing the small. Where are all the smalls?" Sherlock asked, now in full blown panic.

"Um, well, let me look in the back and if I can't find any perhaps we can call one of our other stores. Would that..." She took a deep breath and looked at John then back to Sherlock. "Calm you down?"

"Yes, yes. Just find me those knickers!" Sherlock answered.

"All right Sherlock, what in God's name is going on?" John asked.

Sherlock finally focused on his friend. "Oh, right. Well see um, my suspect had these..." He looked down and reaslised he was still holding a pair of the knickers and quickly put them back on the table. "Pants. I need them for the investigation."

"That seems highly unlikely, even for you," John argued.

"No! It's true." Sherlock was once again distracted as he watched a couple of the sales reps talking near the registers, and glancing in his direction. "What's taking so long?"

"What do they have to do with the investigation, what happened to the knickers?"

"They got ripped," Sherlock answered as he watched the women.

"Who'd they belong to again?"

"Mo... My suspect. I told you." He focused on John. "You didn't have to come, you know."

Once again the sales lady walked up and distracted Sherlock, giving John a moment to make some deductions of his own. An angry Molly leaving the flat this morning. Knickers, really knickers for a case? That's when he noticed several white cat hairs on Sherlock's Belstaff. Then Sherlock loosened his scarf and John had his final proof. Sherlock Holmes with a love bite? John rolled his eyes.

Sherlock turned back to his friend with a relieved look on his face. "Okay, good news. They have several of them, in a small, at the other store. I have the address. Let's go."

John grabbed Sherlock's arm. "How long have you been shagging Molly Hooper?"

Sherlock tried to look shocked for a split second, but quickly gave up. "Fine, come on. I'll explain on the way."

Once settled in the cab John turned to the detective. "Let's have it."

Sherlock sighed. "She's gonna kill me. All right. Five months. Can we leave it at that?"

"Five months?" John all but screamed.

"Calm down. It's not like I faked my death again."

John gave him his best 'a bit not good' look and Sherlock seemed to get the point.

"Right. Not good. Got it."

"Five months and you haven't told anyone. Haven't, I assume, taken her out in public? Unbelievable," John scoffed.

"No, well, yes. But it's not what it seems. It's Molly, she doesn't want anyone to know."

Now John was completely confused. "What?"

Sherlock took a deep breath. "She says I have to prove myself before we 'go public'," he said making quote marks around the last words. "God, John it's making me crazy. I can't kiss her at Barts. I can't take her to Angelo's. I can't introduce her to Mummy. And I wanted to tell you, I did. But she says she deserved this. We almost always stay at hers. The only times we've spent the night at Baker Street... well there's been damage."

"Sorry?"

"First I ruined her second favorite jumper, easily replaced. Then there was an incident with a pair of tights. No great loss. But this morning, I tried to get her to call off sick, and the knickers sort of..."

"Oh, good God!" John grumbled, not wanting Sherlock to finish that sentence.

"Well, I just... I don't... when she's there it feels so... right. I don't want her to leave, ever!" He sighed.

John thought for a minute before speaking. "Sherlock, have you actually told her? Told her that you want to do all those things? Kiss her at Barts? Take her to Angelo's? Have her meet your mum? Have you actually said those words to her, not the her in your mind palace?"

The detective looked puzzled for a moment. "I suppose there's a chance that I haven't said exactly that. I have tried to show..."

"Ripping a woman's clothes off doesn't say: 'I'm in love with you and want you in every part of my life', Sherlock. Sometimes, you have to look her in the eyes and say the words."

Sherlock got quiet and almost perfectly still. John knew he'd retreated into his mind palace, either comparing the new information John had just given him or storing it. Either way, John knew he'd have some time to himself until they reached the next store.

A short time later they pulled up in front of another Agent Provocateur.

"Can you hold the cab for me John? I'll be right back," Sherlock asked as he got out.

John nodded and pulled out his phone to text his wife.

Sherlock and Molly... Shagging!-J

And?-M

NO! You did not know this!-!-!-J

Using more exclamation marks won't make it true ; ) -M

Of course, he thought.

Did Molly tell you?-J

No. I think she wants to keep it a secret. Not doing a very good job, if you ask me.-M

John huffed and put away his phone just as Sherlock got back into the cab with a large bag in his hands. "Just how many knickers did you buy?"

"Several," he said to John. "Barts Hospital, please," he announced, then the cab took off.

"I have a feeling I'll need to make myself scarce for the rest of the morning."

Sherlock chuckled. "Might be a good idea."

"You know what you're gonna say to her?"

"I do," Sherlock replied with a smug smile.

"Not sharing, are you?"

"Nope."

"Good luck, mate. And maybe stop ripping her pants."

"Ahh, that's why I bought the extras," he said with a wink, then nodded to the bag. "These are mine to rip."


Hope you like it! Let me know! ~Lil~