A/N: Finally, I'm back to my multi-chapter fics. Hope it was worth the wait!


"Do you really think you can fool them?" Khan asked dubiously.

They were still seated around Molly's dining room table. She had managed to convince Khan to eat another slice of pizza after he had finished the first one. He avoided the bottled water that was in front of him, though.

"Of course," Sherlock said. "It's simple, really – we tell them John shot you, we show them your body, then we say we'll dispose of it."

"We won't let them take you," Molly said, smiling in an effort to reassure him.

Mary glanced at her watch. "We should be getting back, it's almost Rosie's bedtime." Everyone rose and walked to the foyer.

"We need to figure out what to do with Khan before we stage his death," John said. He looked at Sherlock. "We could put him in my old room at Baker Street."

"If Lestrade showed up and saw him, it'll ruin everything," Sherlock said. "I think Khan should stay where he is."

Wait, what? "Don't I get a say?" Molly asked, annoyed. "I didn't exactly ask for a wanted fugitive hiding out in my flat."

Sherlock turned to her. "You have space for him and no one would ever suspect you." He smiled a bit. "You really are the perfect person to hide him, Molly. After all, you have experience."

She ignored the intrigued expression on Khan's face. "It's a flat, not an inn for people who need a place to hide…" As soon as the words left her lips, she groaned quietly.

Sherlock smirked. "Since when?"

"Just go," she muttered. "I'll take care of him."

The Watsons said their goodbyes then left. Sherlock stayed long enough to kiss Molly's cheek then he followed them.

Khan followed Molly back to the kitchen, smirking. "I was wrong – it's not lust, it's love. And no wonder – he's doing everything he can to manipulate you."

She glared at him. "I'm not in love with Sherlock." She started putting the dirty dishes in the dishwasher.

He leaned against the nearby counter. "Then we're back to lust. I've read your blog – you want to shag him until neither of you can walk straight."

She waited until she was done with the dishes before turning her glare on him. "One, I never wrote that and two, how in the hell are you even able to read my blog? It's friends-only."

"Allow me to jog your memory, Molly. 'He's so intelligent it's like he's burning. And he's fit. Oh, he is really fit. And I can't stop thinking about him.' Sounds like lust to me. And as for 'friends-only,' passwords are easy to guess for one such as me."

Bastard couldn't look more smug if he tried. "I wrote that years ago, when I barely knew Sherlock. We're friends now, it's different."

He raised an eyebrow. "You're telling me you didn't feel something when he kissed your cheek just now?"

"He's. A. Friend." She wanted to stamp her foot for emphasis but suspected it would make her seem childish.

Khan just smirked.

"I don't know why I'm even trying to explain this to you," she muttered. "You have no social skills whatsoever. You must have been raised in isolation."

He shot her a look. "I was."

"Then you're going to need to develop some if you intend to be a productive part of society."

Khan crossed his arms in front of his chest. "That is the last thing I want. Once Baskerville is exposed, I intend to build a house far from 'civilization.' The more I see of humanity, the more I am convinced that I want no part of it."

She stared at him. "Now wait a minute. You saw the worst of humanity at Baskerville, yes, but you have to give the rest of us a chance." She smiled a bit. "I promise, we're not all bad." Wait, am I trying to get Khan to stay? She glanced at his bewildered expression. He must be wondering the same thing. "No one should be alone."

"Even someone with no social skills?"

She rolled her eyes. "Those can be learned." She sighed quietly, suddenly tired. "I'll show you around then I'm going to bed."

"It's too early."

"I'm exhausted and we have a lot to do tomorrow."

Khan assessed her for a moment. "What did Sherlock mean about you have experience harboring fugitives?"

Molly sighed. "He likes to use my bedroom as a bolthole, starting with the night he faked his death."

"Your bedroom?"

"Yes, my guestroom isn't good enough for him, but it's going to be good enough for you," she said firmly. "It's bad enough when one of my best friends regularly kicks me out of my own bed, I'll be damned if I let a near-stranger do it too."

Khan leaned to murmur in her ear, "Believe me, Molly Hooper, if I'm in your bed, you'll be there with me." He then had the gall to kiss her cheek and she definitely felt something.

Bastard.