Sherlock and John walked down the rainy street. Both had turned up their coat collars against the wind and rain, but somehow Sherlock managed to look very suave and debonair and John managed only to look very cold and uncomfortable.
"John," Sherlock said loudly over the rain. "Where are we going?"
"I don't know…here, let's go in here."
Sherlock followed John into a small café packed with other people trying to escape the rain, which was coming down harder with every passing minute. The two friends pushed their way to a small empty table in the back and sat down.
"I'm going to get a coffee, want anything?" John asked Sherlock, peeling off his wet jacket and standing up.
"Black, two sugars…" Sherlocks said absently. He was busy scanning the crowd for anything interesting: thieves, criminals, psychopaths…really, anything more interesting than an ordinary morning in an ordinary coffee shop surrounded by ordinary people.
He'd finished his scanning by the time John got back with his coffee.
"No one here is a serial killer John!" he complained to his friend.
"Ah, what a shame." John lifted his coffee cup for a drink, but stopped mid-sip, looking at the door. He lowered his mug. "Is that Molly?" he asked Sherlock.
Sherlock turned around to look. Sure enough, it was Molly, closing a cheerful red umbrella as she entered the café. Sherlock studied her as she got in line for a drink "Something's wrong…"
"Wrong?" John asked, his eyebrows scrunching in concern.
"Yes…her engagement ring. It's not there. And her hands are shaking as she's taking her change."
"I'll tell her to join us," John got up and walked over to his friend.
Sherlock watched John approach Molly, watched Molly turn and greet him.
"She said hello cheerfully enough but she's not…where's Tom?" Sherlock muttered to himself, his voice souring on the name, Tom. He didn't care for Tom. Molly, however annoying she got, was still his friend, and she deserved someone much more competent and smarter than Tom had proven to be.
John walked back to the table, followed by Molly. He thought he heard a mumble that sounded suspiciously like "meat dagger" escape from Sherlock's mouth, but decided to ignore it.
"Hello Sherlock," Molly said cheerfully. But Sherlock noticed that, while her mouth curved into a smile, her eyes remained dull and melancholy.
"Hello Molly, when did Tom dump you?"
"Sherlock!" John said fiercely, glaring at the detective.
"No, John, it's okay." Molly's hands were wrapped around her steaming mug of tea. "Last week," she told Sherlock. "Last Friday."
"Molly I'm so sorry…" John said, placing a hand on her shoulder. Sherlock said nothing, but continued to stare at his friend intently…There was more to the story.
"But that's not entirely why you're upset, is it." It wasn't a question.
Molly shook her head slowly, staring down into her drink. "I was actually on my way to see you guys, I'd hoped you'd be able to help me."
"Help you with what?" John asked.
"Tom's missing, John." Sherlock told his friend.
"Missing?" John turned to Molly for confirmation.
She nodded. "Missing."