After getting into Bart's and finding my way to the morgue, I greeted Molly with a cheerful, 'Hey, Molly!'

She looked my way, smiled and replied, 'Hi.'

I walked up to the table she was working at but then instantly shielded my eyes. She was cutting open some dead woman and that was something I just couldn't stomach. 'Anything you need, Kodi?'

'Gross!' I complained. I turned my back on the body. 'I need to talk to you, Moll, but I'd rather do it facing the wall, if you don't mind.'

She chuckled. 'That's fine. Not everyone likes cutting up cadavers. What's up?'

How do I start? What exactly was I here for?

'You're pretty good friends with Sherlock, right?' Seemed like a good place to start, didn't it?

'Yeah. I guess so.'

'What's… have you ever stayed the night with him? Or spent a day at the flat? Before John was around?'

I heard her inhale sharply. I suddenly didn't think it was a good idea to have done this. 'Yeah… But the last time I stayed over at his was a year ago, before he knew John.

'After John moved in with him, he sort of forgot about me. The only reasons I still talk to him now is because we've got John to keep our friendship glued together. And because he needs me to have access to the morgue.'

I nodded, even though I knew she couldn't see me. 'Right. So… what… what's he like to be around? I only met him a week or so ago, and to be honest, I'm intent on finding out more about him.'

'Ooh,' she hummed. I rolled my eyes. 'Any particular reason for that, Kodes?'

Now I was stumped. I couldn't mention John's plan. It would ruin everything.

'I… just want to know what he's like as a flatmate.'

'Well, our John's the best person to ask for- oh! Is it because John's moving to my flat soon?'

I breathed out, relieved. 'Yeah. I noticed he looked stricken when John told him he was going to need to find another flatmate. I know I hardly know him all that well.' And he was as rude as hell to me the day we met. 'But if I can help him, it'll stop John worrying. And believe me, I know John will worry.'

'Yeah,' Molly replied. 'John's a worrier. I'll need to drum that out of him.

'But anyway, Sherlock plays the violin. It's his way of expressing emotions. He can't express them by talking. He just can't. He'll play it when he's thinking, he'll play it when he's annoyed, when he's upset. His music changes as his emotions do. He plays rough music to express annoyance, slow music for sadness and just a simple tune when he's thinking.'

I raised an eyebrow. 'He never plays it when he's happy?'

'Once. According to John, he played it out of happiness once. It was when they'd solved the case they'd been working on for two months.'

'What, you mean the one with that guy, Henry Knight? The one where he thought there was a hound in the moor?'

'Yeah, that one,' Molly replied. She started walking away. 'Right, I'm done. I'll just clear up and we can go and sit in the café if you want?'

'Alright,' I replied. 'And yeah, John told me about that case. I feel sorry for Knight, though. Having your father murdered at a young age and then having the nightmares and visions come back to you in adulthood is harsh.'

Molly nodded as she wheeled the table away. 'Yeah. But he's not alone. John and he are quite good friends now, I think.'

We started walking out of the morgue. 'Yeah, I know. It's good of him to help Henry. I guess he needed it.'

'Well, that's John. Always willing to help others.'

'Yeah. I guess… I guess in a way John's helping himself. He needs people to talk to as well. Yeah, he's got me and you but we've not gone through the pain, physical and mental, he has.'

'But,' Molly queried. 'You were chucked by your boyfriend. In the worst possible way.'

I nodded, wishing she never reminded me.

No. I'd shed all my tears on Liam on the night of our family dinner. No memories were ever going to make me cry over him again. 'I… still don't think it's the same kind of pain. Liam never physically hurt me.'

We reached the café. We walked in and sat right at the back at a table for two. 'That's… a good point, to be honest. I never thought of it that way.'

I agreed. 'I guess John's had it the hardest out of all four of us.'

'Exactly.'

My phone pinged.

Can I meet you somewhere please? - T

I frowned. Wasn't Tara not speaking to me? What made her think that she and I could get into an argument and then she could ask me to meet her somewhere? I knew I wanted to patch our friendship up again, but her text had alighted an anger inside of me.

'You OK?' I heard from somewhere in front of me.

I looked up to see Molly looking at me, a frown of concern written all over her face.

'Kinda.' I had wanted to send a text but then I decided a call would be better. 'Do you mind if I just make a call?'

She shook her head. 'No, no. It's fine. Go ahead.'

I smiled, nodding. I dialled Tara's number, biting my thumbnail as I waited.

'You couldn't have texted?' was what she greeted me with.

I glowered. 'Excuse me?' I asked her.

'I'm kind of busy right now. If I could have called, I would have done.'

'You didn't have to answer the call, Grahams. You could have just ignored me.'

'Well, I decided I would. Is that a problem, Miss Watson?'

'Look, can we just get to the point? I have other things I could be getting on with.'

I heard her sigh heavily.

I caught sight of Molly looking at me with a very strange expression on her face. I smiled at her in an attempt to tell her everything was alright. She averted her gaze but didn't look as if she believed me.

'Are you busy?'

Since when did Tara ask me if I was busy? She usually just headed straight into her speech without another care in the world.

'… Well, yes, but-'

'Well, if you're busy, then you're of no help. So yeah. Bye!'

I only got halfway through her name before she cut the call. 'What the hell just went on?' I mused to myself.

'Everything OK?' Molly asked me softly.

'Yeah-' Her stern glare told me it was no use trying to lie to her. 'Oh, alright, fine.' I sighed, slumping back in my chair. 'My friend Tara and I were on non-speaking terms and we kind of just pushed ourselves further away from each other.'

'Oh. Well, I'm sure Tara will come round soon enough.'

Then, my phone pinged once again.

When are you coming home, Kodes? - JW

Dad. I looked at my watch, and my eyes widened as I realised that it was nearly quarter to twelve. I'd somehow blown away two hours with John, Sherlock and Molly.

I texted back immediately.

I'm gonna leave right now. Expect me home in fifteen. Sorry for leaving you guys waiting. - KW

'Moll, I gotta run. My parents need me home,' I said, standing up.

'Are they OK?' she asked.

'They're fine. It's just that I've been gone from home for two hours. They worry about me.'

She stood up, nodding. 'Alright. See you soon?'

'See you soon,' I confirmed. 'And thanks for the info on Sherlock, by the way.'

'No probs. Hope everything becomes clearer soon.'

After a quick hug and a thank you, I left Molly at Bart's café and went about going home. The rain had stopped long ago, so I had no qualms with walking home this time.

As I walked, I was filled with immense guilt. Molly had to work. She was two years younger than me and she was working hard while I wasn't working at all. I was twenty seven and jobless. This wasn't good.

But then I realised it wasn't my fault. Sort of. Liam had killed my ability to 'cope with the reality of relationships in my workspace' as Sherlock so kindly put it. I am not ashamed to say that I loved my librarian job. I really did. But four panic attacks after witnessing happy couples saw me fired.

Julie was my boss (and a very good boss, might I add) but she never understood why I would panic after seeing two people happy and in love. She never understood that my heart was slowly shattering with each new glimpse.

I sighed. I was not a part of London's Luscious Library anymore and I had told myself months ago that I wouldn't care if I was one. I would find a job somewhere else soon enough: there were many jobs out there. I just needed to be patient.

'Kodi?' I suddenly heard a voice say.

I turned on my heel to find Sherlock advancing towards me. 'Yes?' I said impatiently as I rolled my eyes. Trust me to bump into Sherlock when he was the last person I wanted to see.

'Hello,' he said as he quickly caught up with me.

'Hi. What do you want?' I replied.

He sighed. 'John sent me out to do the shopping because he couldn't be bothered,' he explained.

'Good,' I replied bitterly. 'It's about time you helped John with the housework. He's not the only guy living in 221b, you know.'

'I need to stay at home. I need to think!'

I frowned as we walked. 'Yeah. Of course you do,' I said through gritted teeth. Sherlock was constantly annoying me. I was seriously rethinking my decision to think about going to live with him. 'So you're the housewife while John is the working husband?' I asked rhetorically.

'If we were a married gay couple, then the answer to your question would be yes. But since I am not gay, since we are not married, I will have to say no. I am just the stay at home sort of man while John likes being outdoors.'

'Yeah, that's why he couldn't be bothered,' I muttered.

We reached my road, and Sherlock stopped me on the corner. 'Please, do speak louder. My ears do not function as well as they used to.'

I growled. 'Nothing, it doesn't matter.' A thought struck me. 'So you do know that John's bisexual!'

He scoffed. 'Of course I do, Miss Watson. The signs are everywhere – from the way he talks, the way he looks at both males and females exactly the same.'

I held my breath before I asked the next question. 'Sherlock… has John ever looked at you… like that? Like he… desired you?'

Sherlock screwed up his face. 'I don't know, I've probably deleted it. But he might have.'

I sighed, rolling my eyes. I should have known that asking questions like that to Sherlock wouldn't work.

'Look, my parents don't want you at our house, OK? You won't follow me, you won't come in and you will get onto your shopping as soon as I leave here. Yes?'

He shook his head, his still-unruly curls bobbing up and down. 'I thought your parents wanted me to apologise and then all would be well?'

I clucked my tongue. 'Not everyone can forgive and forget, Sherlock. And I'm starting to regret my decision of forgiving you now: you are really starting to annoy the hell out of me.'

'But-'

'Get John to explain to you what it means to forgive. Because clearly you don't know.'

I walked away, leaving him looking puzzled.

How on Earth did the idea of living with this man ever cross my mind? He obviously didn't know how to socialise all that well. It would be hell living with him. So now I was decided.

Living with Sherlock Holmes was a crossed out idea in my mind. And that's all it would stay.

Finished! What did you guys think? Thanks to all of you who followed and favourited, and to discountdiamond for the only review last chapter. Can I at least have five reviews before next chapter?