A/N: Sorry for the late post got busy. But I have a good chapter for y'all.

Chapter three: Explanation

"Sherlock!" Molly exclaimed, "You can't just blurt that out!" She stared at him huffily, her arms crossed in frustration.

John looked back and forth between the two in confusion. "Okay," he said, "someone had better give me an explanation this instant."

"Alright, don't get your pants in a twist," Sherlock replied languidly as he slumped against the wall. He was jarred for an instant by a still irate Molly smacking his arm.

"Sherlock, shut it." she commanded, shooting daggers at him with her eyes. Her expression softened as she turned to the confused doctor. "John, will you please sit," she asked gently as she gestured to a home stool near John. She gave a jerkier, wordless gesture to Sherlock to sit down next to her on a bench.

After everyone was seated, she took a deep breath to steady herself. "So," she began, "as Sherlock so delicately told you, I am half angel." Before John had a chance to interrupt and question this seemingly impossible assertion, she continued, "And, how that is possible is that, well, my mom was an angel that came to help my dad find love, but instead, they ended up falling for each other. They got married and I came along, but because I was half human there were complications." Molly paused for a moment, her words having become shaky. Sherlock was watching her intently, and as she traced the shape of a pendent she wore around her neck, he gently took her hand and held it in his. She glanced up at him for an instant, before taking a shaky breath and resuming her story. "After I was born she had to leave. My father never told me why. I was raised by my father, but because I'm half angel, there were some difficulties in my childhood that stemmed from me not knowing how to control my powers."

"What are your powers?" John interrupted, his curiosity overcoming him as he tried to figure out if Molly was telling the truth, or if all of this was an elaborate prank orchestrated by Sherlock.

Molly glanced at Sherlock before looking back to John. "Well, other than being able to revive the dead," she told him, "I can heal any illness, I can talk to the spirits of the dead, I can see demons, I can tell what's making someone sick just by looking at them, I can see it when a woman is pregnant, and I can move things with my mind. The only problem is that because I'm only half angel, I can't bring back the dead if they've been dead for more than 27 hours."

Oddly enough, as it seemed to Molly, John Watson seemed remarkably calm. "Okay," he said calmly, "so continue. You didn't know how to control your powers."

Molly glanced at Sherlock, but he merely shrugged in reply. She crossed her legs and adjusted her position on the sofa.

"Well, because I couldn't control it," she explained, "I would move things without knowing it, and I wouldn't know how to stop seeing who was sick. Because of that, it just wasn't safe for me to be around other people most of the time, so my dad had to homeschool me. It was hard on both of us," Molly said as she tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear, "My dad was a doctor, and so I wanted to follow in his footsteps. I loved medicine, but my ability to cure any illness, well, that would be rather suspicious. So, in the end, I chose pathology.

Molly paused in her telling of her story, and Sherlock knowingly squeezed her hand. Her fingers curled tighter around his for support as she continued.

"I was nineteen when my father died. I just fell into even deeper application to my studies. I breezed through my bachelor's degree at a very fast pace, but started holding myself back early in med school. I was attracting too much attention, and well," she paused again, glancing at the floor, and fiddling with her nails on one hand. "I still publish some relatively high-profile medical journals from time to time, but it's better if I don't stand out too much in my field."

John looked at her in amazement, his already profound respect for Molly deepening into sheer awe. After a moment, he gathered his thoughts, and relaxed on the stool a bit. He uncrossed his arms and leaned forward a bit.

"So," he asked out of curiosity, "How did you and Sherlock meet?"

Molly opened her mouth as if about to speak, but Sherlock began to talk first.

"We were both in Uni," he said, "and one night, I stumbled into her room, thinking it was mine. I was rather high at the time, and after I took another shot, I passed out on the floor. Not long afterwards, she arrived back in her room, took one look at me, and saved me from overdosing. We exchanged a bit of history, and have just kept crossing paths ever since."

~MJS