A/N: Thanks for all the kind words! I'm curious if anyone is able to spot all the "Mary Poppins" quotes and references – The game is on! :-)


Sherlock explained the case in his typical short clipped, fast paced way, so that Molly had to concentrate to follow up. The bottom line was: Lestrade had asked him to help them with a case of two missing children. The parents had asked for Sherlock and the reason why the police was more or less forced to comply with their wish was, because the father held a high position on one of the biggest banks in London. The last time the children had been seen was while having a walk through the park with their Nanny. As it turned out the black Jaguar had been sent by the family and would take them directly to the house in one of the noble suburbs of London.

Just as Sherlock had finished his explanation, the car turned left into a wide street. Molly spotted a sign that read CHERRY TREE LANE.
The pathologist couldn't help but exclaim happily, "Cherry Tree Lane?! What a lovely name!"
Sherlock made a face and snorted, "That sounds like a fictive street out of a children's book."
Molly turned to him and crossed her arms. "You're a grumpy old bastard."
He mimicked her gesture and stated, "I'm not old!"

Is he mocking me, or…

But before Molly could contemplate, the car had come to a halt and her door was opened. She got out and saw Sherlock do the same. As she was standing on the pavement, her gaze drifted over the houses. It was clearly a very expensive neighbourhood and nomen est omen: There were cheery trees everywhere. It was beautiful.
She heard the car drive off behind her and at that moment she realized that her suitcase was still in the boot. Shocked she turned around to almost collide with Sherlock who seemed to read her thoughts as usual and answered her unasked question, "Don't worry. You'll get your suitcase later." And before she could ask what he meant with "later", he opened the fence gate to number 17 and now his tone got impatient, "We should get inside. The sooner we talk to the annoying parents, the sooner we can leave again."

Molly blinked at him, because for a second the thought crossed her mind that Sherlock did not seem to care about the missing children at all.

But he is Sherlock…

She entered the front yard behind him, when they heard a voice from above, "The wind has changed! The wind's in the east!" Molly and Sherlock turned into the direction the voice was coming from and spotted a man looking out of the window of the top floor in the neighbouring house. He had a white beard and wore a sailor hat. Both must have looked quite confused, because the man repeated his shouting, "The wind has changed! The wind's in the east!" The pathologist turned to Sherlock with a questioning gaze, who only shook his head. "Seems like he and my brother have read the same book about the east wind."

He rang the doorbell and seconds later the door was opened by a maid with a Rubenesque figure. She took a step aside and gestured them to come in. She went to Molly to help her with her coat, when Sherlock commanded, "Keep it on. I doubt we'll be staying." The maid raised her eyebrows and Molly looked on the floor embarrassed.
The maid cleared her throat. "Well, if you will follow me into the sitting room? Mr and Mrs Banks will be here in a second." She guided the consulting detective and the pathologist into the sitting room and then left through another door.

The room was enormous and Molly couldn't help but stare at the posh furniture and decoration. Molly had never been in a house like that before and so she wandered around with her mouth wide open. Sherlock, however, was totally unimpressed. He remained standing behind the couch and watched Molly with a slight amusing smile on his lips.

"This is… wow… I mean…", the pathologist stammered in awe.
Sherlock shrugged. "Well, it's not exactly Buckingham Palace. Still it's clean."
She whirled around to face him. "Well, that's as close as a girl like me can get to Buckingham Palace."
"I can tell Mycroft to do a tour with you."
"I'd rather have a tour with you," she said in a casual tone, clearly not thinking what she was implying.
His eyes went wide. Only know she seemed to register what her exact words had been, because she turned bright red. "I… I meant… What I meant was…"
But before the blushing pathologist could stutter on, an elegant woman and a tall man in their forties entered the room. The woman wore a Chanel suit and the man an expensive looking suit. His expression was stern, whereas the woman's eyes were downcast. It was obvious that she had been crying and was trying her best to hold herself together. The man did not appear to be shaken at all – which left Molly a bit puzzled – given the circumstances.

Molly went to stand beside Sherlock, because she didn't want the man and the woman to think she had been staring at and touching various objects in the room (which she had). The man introduced himself, and his tone was as fierce, as Molly had expected, "I'm George Banks and this is my wife Winifred Banks. Thank you for coming Mr Holmes and..." He looked at Molly and drew up an expectant eyebrow. She opened her mouth, but realis ed that she didn't really know what to answer. Sure, she knew her name was Molly Hooper, but what should she answer in case he would ask her why she was here?

When Mr Banks didn't get an answer, he asked, "I don't assume you to be Dr Watson?"
Sherlock rolled his eyes at the man's attempt at a joke and clarified, "Hardly. This is my pathologist Dr Molly Hooper."
Molly's head snapped to Sherlock. She did not know if she should feel embarrassed, flattered or cross. All she knew was that his answer had come totally unexpected for her.
"You got your own pathologist?" Molly could not tell if Mr Banks was impressed or amused. Either way, Sherlock did not seem to care, because he started his interrogation, "Would you tell us when you've last seen your children?"
Mr Banks looked at the consulting detective in a calculating way. "Sebastian already told me that you have your own methods."
"Then he has told you as well that I don't like to waste time."
For the first time Mrs Banks looked up from the floor and began to speak. Her voice was low and conveyed the terror she was feeling, "Why would you need a pathologist? Our children are just missing."
"They are for now. One never knows when a pathologist can come in handy." Molly could not believe what Sherlock had just said. Neither could Mrs Banks, because she went white as the wall. Said pathologist hasted to repair the damage as much as possible, "What Sherlock means, is I have a lot of experience in identifying possible evidence and fibres, which may be useful in this case. He was in no way implying that your children will not be found safe and sound." Sherlock's brows went heavenwards during her speech. He had not known Molly to be such a convincing liar, but then again, she had mastered to let everyone believe she was mourning his death for two years. Mrs Banks seemed to calm down a little.
Sherlock cleared his throat, "Now that's settled, could we go back to the matter at hand? When was the last time your children have been seen?"
The voice of the woman in the Chanel suit was much more collected now, "Jane and Michael went to the park with the nanny. They wanted to fly a kite."

Molly got pen and paper out of her kitbag to make notes.

Good thing, I didn't put them into my suitcase!

The last time she had helped Sherlock with a case he had told her that he didn't need her to make notes (she knew he stored everything relevant to the case in his mind), but she liked to do it nevertheless. It helped her focus. And as opposed to the consulting detective she did not have an enormous mind palace to store every fact- she had to look them up from time to time.

The woman went on, "And then they... they just vanished. They didn't come back."
"People don't just vanish," Sherlock scolded her.
Needless to say that the poor woman was shocked by his harsh tone. Molly cleared her throat next to him, to let him know that he should mind his words. He seemed to understand, because his tone considerably softened when he went on, "So the two children were last seen with the nanny? How long has this nanny been here for?"

Mrs Banks looked embarrassed. "Not for very long. We... we ... it was not easy to find a suitable nanny for Jane and Michael. They are adorable children Mr Holmes, but..."
Mr Banks harshly interrupted his wife, "Now don't beat around the bush Winifred! The point is we've had 6 nannies in the last 4 months." He looked pointedly at his wife. "The children, servants and household are your domain. All I ask for are precision and order. Is that too much to ask for? But you can't even manage that!"

Tears formed in Mrs Banks' eyes and threatened to fall. Molly could only stare at the husband and she decided then and there that she resented him. Even Sherlock didn't approve of the behaviour of Mr Banks and looked coldly at him when he resumed his interrogation, "So you haven't known this new nanny for long?"
"No." His tone did not indicate in the slightest that he felt sorry for snapping at his wife.
Sherlock sighed. "Did it ever occur to you that she has anything to do with the disappearance of your children?"
Mrs Banks was scandalized, "Mary Poppins? No way, she's practically perfect in every way!"
Sherlock's tone was smug, "Then maybe you should ask yourself, why she has disappeared as well."
He turned to Molly, who had followed the conversation by looking from one speaker to the other while making notes in between.
"Come on Molly, this is not even a three. I need to have a word with Sebastian and Lestrade about that."

He ignored Mr Banks, made a step towards his wife, pattered her awkwardly on the shoulder and said, "Don't worry, Mrs Banks with a little money you'll get back your children in no time."
He passed her and his husband to walk out the door. They stood there dumbfounded while Molly hastened to put away her pen and paper, mumble an embarrassed, "Goodbye!" and hurried after the consulting detective.


She found Sherlock standing on the pavement in front of the house waving a taxi. Molly came to a halt beside him. "Sherlock, what are you doing?"
"Getting us a taxi, obviously."
She rolled her eyes. "You know exactly that's not what I'm talking about. You can't just leave! Their children are missing!"
"As you will see I can, and I will."
A taxi stopped and Sherlock opened the door.
"Don't worry, the children will be back soon." He got into the car.
Molly remained standing on the pavement, not wanting to give in.
Realizing she was not following him, Sherlock stuck his head out of the taxi and tried to make his voice sound reassuringly, "It's clearly a typical case of kidnapping. They will get a ransom demand by tomorrow, they'll pay the money and they'll get back the children. End of the story."
Molly could not believe her ears, "They are children, Sherlock! Can't you imagine how frightened they must be? And how do you know that everything will work out the way you've just said? Even you can't possibly know that!"
Sherlock sighed deeply. Not only him, but the cabby was getting impatient as well, because he snapped, "Now do you want to get in or not, lady?"
Although Sherlock sent him a resentful glance, he did not say anything and waited for Molly to make up her mind.
She definitely did not want to let Sherlock Holmes get away so easily, but she could see that standing on the pavement wouldn't help her cause either. So now it was her turn to sigh and get into the taxi as well.
"Now that wasn't so hard, was it?" mumbled the driver.
This time Sherlock graced him with an, "Oh, shut up!"

After giving the driver Molly's address, Sherlock looked out of his window, purposely avoiding Molly's hard gaze. She was determined to make him stay and help the children.
"So you're saying the children were kidnapped?"
"Clearly." He kept starring out of his window.
"And you think the nanny has something to do with it."
"She abducted the children. Mary Poppins... I mean... what a name is that?" He shook his head.

And this from a man who's name is Sherlock...

"But what if you're wrong?"
That made him finally look at her.
" .not."
She could not let it go. "But what if you are? Even you are not perfect."
"I am practically perfect."
"Just like this Mary Poppins and now she has kidnapped two children."
Molly was proud of her argumentation, because not even Sherlock Holmes could argue with that.
His pupils narrowed and Molly knew he was not pleased at all.
"Fine, so let's assume I am wrong (which is not the case), what else could've happened?"
Molly's voice was hesitant, because now she felt a little helpless. She did not have time to think about a probable theory of her own. Therefore she suggested the first thing that came to her mind, "Maybe they just ran away?"
Sherlock seemed a little amused by her suggestion. "In this case, everything is fine."
The petite pathologist looked horrified, "How can you say something like that?"
"Maybe they don't want to be found and come back. Look at their parents!"
"Of course they want to come home, they're children!"
Sherlock didn't look convinced.
"Sherlock, do you love your parents?"
"They are my parents," he stated flatly.
"See." She knew it wasn't exactly an affirmative answer, but she knew it was the best she would get.

Molly took a deep breath and scooted a little closer to him. She saw the suspicion in his eyes and his body stiffen ever so slightly, but she chose to ignore it, in order to deliver her next lines as calm as possible.
"Sherlock, all I'm asking you is to stay until tomorrow and wait for the ransom letter to arrive. As soon as we hold it in hands, you can let the police take care of the rest. I just... I need some kind of..."
"Proof?" His voice was calm as well, and when Molly looked at him she was surprised that she didn't find any trace of anger in his features. He looked almost sympathetic.
"Yes." She hated how little her voice sounded. She didn't want him to think she doubted his judgement, because she didn't, but her instinct was telling her, that there was more to the case and that they needed to stay.
He looked at her for a long time, his face giving nothing away. And just when Molly was about to give up hope, he turned to the cabbie and ordered, "Change in plan, we're going to the Willoughby Hotel, 167 Cherry Tree Lane."