Sherlock sat in his chair, thinking. John was checking his emails. Sherlock looked up when the door opened.
"Mycroft." He said simply. "On a case, go away." He went back to his thinking position.
"You are coming Friday?"
"Of course. When have I ever missed it?"
"Twice."
"Not my fault. You forced me into rehab, and they wouldn't let me out, then I was in the hospital because of a case gone wrong."
"Is that why you have a scar on the back of your neck?"
"Yes. Well, that's one of them." Sherlock said. His mobile went off. He picked it up, and answered with, "Sherlock."
"Sherlock it's me. It's about Jonah."
"Oh?" Sherlock stood, and went towards his bedroom.
"We have nobody for the kid. His father isn't on the certificate, and the mother is dead. She was killed four months ago." Sherlock closed his bedroom door. "We need someone to take him, or he'll be put in foster care." Sherlock sighed.
"Let me see if I can't do anything." He hung up, and went to the living room.
"Sherlock, Mummy said you could bring guests. Will you?"
"Two. Unless John is separately invited, then four, because John's seeing someone."
"Mary hasn't even met you!"
"Oh, so that's her name!" Sherlock said. "Thank you, John." Sherlock smiled smugly. "Mummy doesn't care, I can assure you John."
"Mummy...what are you going on about?"
"Mummy's birthday party this week. I should have our case wrapped up by then."
"So then who are you bringing?"
"Well, it usually involves dancing, and if I don't bring a date, then I'll be forced to dance with you. Or an insufferable cousin."
"So...who?"
"Molly of course. Unless you want me to bring Lestrade, then Molly is the only choice."
"You don't know any other women?"
"Of course not. Unless you count Sally Donovan, and I'd rather sing Christmas tunes in my pants." Sherlock left. Mycroft and John looked confused.
Sherlock went into the morgue, and grabbed Molly, who was talking to another doctor. She looked surprised.
"Sherlock, what's wrong?"
"Jonah. He's got no family." Sherlock said. "Lestrade wants to know what we want to do with him. And, I want to take him in."
"Are you serious?" Molly asked. Sherlock nodded. "Why? I didn't think you liked kids." Sherlock stiffened.
"I don't have any problems with kids, but it's safe at Baker Street." She rubbed his arm.
"I didn't mean it like that, Sherlock. I thought they were annoying for your cases."
"They can be, but I want to do this." She had never seen Sherlock so distraught over a child before. He seemed upset by the fact that the child was virtually homeless.
"I think it's good." She said. "John seems to think you have no heart. I think this proves him very wrong." Molly said. She was worried about him.
"I would also like to invite you to my mother's birthday gathering." Sherlock said. "That is, unless you don't dance."
"Sherlock, you deduced it yourself when you had moved in with me, that I did ballet my whole childhood, and teen years."
Now, I know they seem out of character. But let me explain something to you.
Sherlock had moved into Molly's flat when he was taking down Moriarty's network. They had become close, really close, and their entire relationship had changed. Sherlock pretended to "insult" to her. She laughed about John's reaction. They had become almost best friends. Very dysfunctional friends, but nevertheless, they were friends. She had seen all sides of Sherlock, but she also knew that he had a crazy past that was a huge secret, one she'd never really know.
"I'd love to go, Sherlock. I want to meet your mother." He smiled at her, his heart pounding.
"May I experiment with something?" Sherlock asked. She nodded. Sherlock leaned in, and kissed Molly full on the mouth. They worked slowly into this kiss, and they worked into the snog.
"Molly, Lestrade asked me to drop these off..." Anderson froze. Sherlock and Molly jumped apart. Molly blushed. Sherlock pretended like nothing was wrong.
"Anderson you had something?" He asked.
"Samples." Sherlock took them silently. "What, no insult?" Sherlock sat down, and pulled out his mobile. "Is he okay?" Anderson wasn't usually concerned, but there was something seriously off.
"He's got a lot on his mind with this case." Molly said. "Look, Jimmy, just...go back to Scotland Yard, I'll figure it out from here." He left. Sherlock put his mobile to his ear.
"Lestrade, it's me. I'll take the kid."
"Are you serious?"
"Yes." Sherlock said.
"The last time you had-"
"I vividly remember what happened, Lestrade. Please." Sherlock said. The line was silent. If Sherlock hadn't been able to hear Lestrade's breathing, even he would have thought Lestrade hung up.
"All right. I've got the papers, we'll bring them down with the boy."
"Thank you, Lestrade." Sherlock hung up, and Molly went over to him to hug him. They held onto each other for a moment. Normally, Sherlock rejected hugs, but somehow he was soothed by her warm hug.
"Listen, Molly, I know I've always taken advantage of your love for me, and I know it was wrong. I can see how much you do for me. I would like to take you to dinner after this case." Molly looked shocked. "Please. You've done so much for me when I 'died'. Please, Molly. John was right, I do make you look ridiculous, and I want to change it. I want to annoy Mycroft too, which you admitted you liked to do too, so-"
"I'd love too." Molly said, smiling. "I would absolutely love to." Sherlock grinned. Lestrade came in, carrying Jonah.
"Hi, Mr. Sherlock!" He said, giggling.
"Well, aren't we looking all better." Sherlock said, grinning wider, and taking the kid. Lestrade let Jonah down, and he ran into Sherlock's arms. Sherlock scooped him up, and took the papers.
"Are you sure, Sherlock. You've got a past."
"And the nearest adoption agency owes me a favor." Sherlock said, filling out the paperwork.
"Are you going to change his name?" Molly asked. She loved watching Sherlock write, his small, neat manuscript was intereststing.
"Why? He has one already."
"No, his last name, Sherlock." Sherlock looked at Jonah.
"Jonah, would you like to keep your last name, or change it to mine."
"I don't even know my last name." They stared at him for a moment.
"Your last name is Holmes. That's my name, and it'll stay that way." Sherlock said, writing that down. He figured it was safer for Jonah to keep his last name a secret until the murderer was in prison. Molly smiled.
"Did you tell John?"
"Why, he'd think I was lying."
"...All right, fair point. But he should still know."
"Whose John?"
"John is my best friend." Sherlock said. "He lives with me because he also works with me." Sherlock looked at Lestrade. "What?" The DI was grinning smugly.
"New it. Dimmock tried to tell me differently."
"What did he tell you?"
"That you guys were..."
"No." Sherlock said. "He's seeing someone. Her name is Mary."
"Mary Morstan? Yeah, she works here at Barts." John had also worked part-time at Barts.
"Is that how they met?" Sherlock asked Molly. She shook her head.
"No, Mary and I are close friends." Well, that certainly explained things. Sherlock looked at Molly, and she smiled.
"Besides, I'm not interested in John." Molly smiled. Fortunately, Lestrade was a few feet away, behind Molly, and couldn't see her smiling.
"Yeah, but you aren't interested in anyone." Sherlock smiled faintly at Molly. Jonah giggled.
"Oh, I wouldn't say that." Molly looked confused. "Besides, you might hurt her feelings if you say that in front of her."
"What...you like someone? Sherlock, you haven't liked anyone-"
"Now, that's not true. I think Molly can attest to that." Molly blushed, but grinned.
"Yes, yes I can." They smiled at each other.
"I'm so lost." Lestrade said. "Jonah, do you know what's going on?"
"Nope." He said, shaking his head. Sherlock handed over the papers.
"Oh, Molly, I'll come get you around four, at your flat. Mummy and Father live quite far, and the party starts at eight."
"Party?" Jonah asked.
"My mother. We've got to find you some clothes. Come on, let's go." They left. Molly looked at Lestrade.
"Greg, why is he so willing to take care of Jonah. It's like he used to be a father." Lestrade fiddled with the papers, and didn't look at Molly. "You aren't telling me something, are you?"
"Look, Mols. It's not my place to tell you. He's got a horrible past." Molly figured he had a dysfunctional family too, but she didn't say that out loud. "And, in my experience, Sherlock doesn't tell anybody what happened unless he's absolutely ready. I told John I've known him for five years. That was the first time I met John, same day as you. I've known him a lot longer than that, but I've worked with him for five years."
"He's not a bad person." Molly said. Lestrade nodded.
"I agree. He just does bad things." Molly and Greg were best friends. They had known each other sense Molly was in university. She got mugged, and Lestrade, came in and helped her. They had soon realized she was a friend of his wife's.
"You think maybe I should at least try to figure out his attitude towards me."
"No, I could tell you. John could too."
"Then enlighten me, because I want to know." She said, looking at him, crossing her arms.
"Listen, Mols." Lestrade said, leaning against the counter, his own arms crossed. "Sherlock lost a lot when he 'died.' He lost me, Mrs. Hudson, his parents, John, Mycroft. He won't admit it, but he was crushed to lose so many people. They were his life. Mrs. Hudson has known him his whole life. I've known him sense he was a teenager, and I was new to Scotland Yard. John, well, you see what they did for one another. Even losing Mycroft was huge. Mycroft was devestated." Despite Sherlock's claims that Mycroft had easily figured it out, he had no idea his baby brother was still alive. Molly had seen him at the funeral, sobbing, and wouldn't talk to anyone. He was the first person Sherlock told. "He leaned on you when it got rough, when he needed someone. I know he isn't an easy person, but look at everything you gave him when we weren't able too. Sherlock may care for you. Now, I don't know if he's into someone or not, but he does love you. Like he would love John, or Mrs. Hudson." Molly wanted to correct him, but decided not to.
"I guess that makes sense." Molly said.
"Jonah gives him another person to do that too."
"That should get interesting. You going to babysit?"
"Of course, Uncle Greg is going to babysit!" Molly laughed, looking a little sad. Lestrade held his arms out, and she hugged him.
"I just worry about Sherlock sometimes."
"Don't we all, Molly. Don't we all."