"Really, dearies, I don't know why no one listens to me. I may seem like a batty old cow but I'm not an idiot. Marriage changes people. It changes everything. The sex between Frank and I was quite lovely until we got married. Then suddenly the sex stopped and he was off and chasing other women. What about you, Mary dear, things still going well with John? I imagine you're wanting to spice things up a bit again since the baby?" Mrs. Hudson questioned and eagerly awaited a response. Having been starved of 'girl talk' for so long, she was thoroughly enjoying this evening. It was just like the ever kind and thoughtful Molly to have remembered her and invited her to join them. Most young people would have overlooked an elderly landlady, but not Molly Hooper. Though she was still bewildered by the younger generation's ability to shift from one type of romantic partner to another, Sherlock had done well in choosing a replacement for John.

Mary's eyes widened and met Molly's. Both women were surprised and delighted by this facet of the older woman. "Yeah, well now, at the moment John and I are too tired from getting up during the night to feed and change Sophie's diapers to give much thought to anything but sleep, Mrs. Hudson." Mary pulled a wry face and took large gulp of her wine.

Mrs. Hudson tutted, "You'll not want to let that to go on too long, dearie. Men have such short attention spans you know. And please call me Martha, it's so much friendlier that way, isn't it?"

Giggling and bit worse for the wine, Molly observed, "Mary, Martha and Molly—the three Ms. We could form a secret society and call it M cubed."

Pleased to see that Molly was thoroughly relaxed and enjoying herself, Mary offered, "Or the three M-igos?" After the resulting groans died down from the atrocious pun, she addressed Mrs. Hudson's earlier concern, "The situation won't last forever and John and I have a holiday planned for next weekend. Just the two of us. Anyways, I don't much think John is the type to cheat. He may be attracted to danger but he still has a soldier's code of honor. Besides, he knows I'd bloody well kill him."

Clapping her hands with delight, Mrs. Hudson offered, "I can watch the little one if you like. Of course, it'd be best if I stayed at your place. You never know who or what Sherlock is going to drag home. Not the most conducive to having a baby around. You'll have to cure him of that, Molly."

"Mrs. Hudson…" Molly began only to stop at the elder woman's reproachful look. "Martha, Sherlock and I are not going to have babies. I mean can you really imagine Sherlock as father? More importantly, ours is not that kind of marriage."

Ignoring the last part of Molly's objections, because young people could be so unaware of things, Mrs. Hudson conceded, "I suppose you're right, Molly. Sherlock as father might be a bit dodgy. I do hope you took that into account before marrying him."

Deciding to save her friend from the uncomfortable conversation, Mary interjected, "Thanks for the offer, Martha, but we've already a lined up an old friend." The second the words were out of her mouth, she realized her error but it was too late to pull them back.

Both of the other women looked at her and simultaneously asked, "Who?'

Throwing an apologetic glance towards Molly, Mary admitted, "Janine."

Mrs. Hudson clicked her tongue in reproach, "Mary, I'm not one to go around butting into to other people's business, but do really think that wise? I mean those newspaper headlines! Some things should be left private, don't you think? And think of poor Molly having Sherlock's ex-girlfriend about," here she paused for a moment as an idea occurred to her, "Though I guess you do have to put up with Sherlock and Molly has to put up with John. Though that's not really quite the same thing is it. Different bits and pieces, if you know what I mean?"

Thankfully, the doorbell rang and saved Molly and Mary from having to reply. "Oh, that'll be the take-out. Lovely thing take-out. I remember once Frank and I… well that's a story for later. I'll pop down and get it. You two get the plates."

As the two younger women gathered the plates and utensils, Mary apologized, "I'm sorry, Molly. Didn't mean to for that topic to come up tonight."

"Don't be silly, Mary. I have a past and Sherlock has a past. It has nothing to do with our current relationship." Molly carefully folded three napkins and placed them under the utensils. "No, that's not really true. Actually, Janine has a lot to do with our current relationship. When their love affair was splashed all over tabloids, I made a startling discovery. It didn't bother me. Sherlock had been sleeping with another woman and it didn't bother me one little bit," Molly's tone revealed her wonderment of the situation. "Their affair confirmed what I had always known deep down inside-that he would never view me romantically. The really amazing thing is that I also realized that I was no longer in love with Sherlock."

This revelation was that last thing that Mary had expected when she had let slip Janine's name. She'd expected tears or anger, but not this. "Not to put too fine a point on it, but then why the bloody hell did you marry him?"

Molly laughed and took quick sip of wine. "I can see why you're confused. Hardly seems to make sense, does it? Well, when I stopped being in love with him, I could just love him and enjoy being around him. At least that's what my therapist says. I think she's right, you know. I've always been rubbish at romantic relationships and had fallen into the habit of using Sherlock as the reason why. When Sherlock proposed we marry for companionship, it dawned on me that a marriage of that type suited me very well. So, you see, I'm really rather grateful to Janine for helping me to see that my feelings had changed and for helping Sherlock to see what he wanted as well."

Through narrowed eyes, Mary studied Molly. Molly was telling the truth, or the truth as she consciously knew it. "What does your therapist think about the arrangement?"

"Like everyone else, she thought it a bit odd at first. I think she was distrustful of Sherlock's motives. Not surprising, given his reputation and the things we'd discussed. But once I pointed out that Sherlock had never knowingly done anything to hurt me, she agreed that it might be the right course for me. I invited her to the wedding but she couldn't come because she was out of town at a conference."

"Shame that. She sounds interesting. I'd like to have met her and had a chat." Privately, Mary thought she sounded like a quack. What sort of therapist would encourage a client to continue to delude herself about her real feelings?

"By the way, I don't think I ever properly thanked you for the lovely job you did on planning the wedding. His parents were so very happy. I doubt they thought they'd ever have the chance to attend such an occasion. If it'd been left to me and Sherlock, we'd have ended up in a pub somewhere."

This time Mary couldn't hide her surprise. "You mean Sherlock didn't tell you?"

"Tell me what?"

Mrs. Hudson, who had caught the last few seconds of the conversation, came bustling into the room with several plastic carriers and supplied the answer, "Why it was Sherlock who did most of the planning, dear. He kicked up a right fuss about it, he did. I thought he'd been bad about John and Mary's wedding but this time he was a downright tyrant. Everything so particular, right down to the last detail. He nearly had the florist in tears demanding just the right shade of pink and I thought he and Georgie would come to blows over your dress. Georgie had chosen some big lacey confection but Sherlock insisted you would look like a meringue in it and that a simple style suited you better. As usual, Sherlock won."

Molly opened her mouth to reply to this news but could not think of a single thing to say. This was a side of Sherlock she'd not known existed. Filing that piece of information away for later examination, she simply said, "Right then. Shall we eat? I'm starved."

As they unpacked the food, Mary reflected on what Molly had said before Mrs. Hudson had come back upstairs. The worst of it was that Molly's conclusions were all built on a house of cards which could come tumbling down at any point. If her proof of getting over Sherlock lay in her lack of reaction to the love affair, what would she do if the truth of the matter came out? After the headlines had died down, Janine had confided to Mary her disappointment in Sherlock's lack of ardor. Contrary to the stories, Sherlock and Janine had never gone further than kissing and petting—much to Janine's frustration. Janine's last words on the matter had been a snide remark about Sherlock saving himself for marriage.

Mary's worrying thoughts were curtailed as Mrs. Hudson observed, "I think we may have ordered too much, girls. Ah well, better too much than too little. Now, let me tell you about Frank and what he used to do with take-out."

Molly and Mary giggled as they filled their plates with food. Settling down, they eagerly listened as Mrs. Hudson related one salacious anecdote after another. It seemed that not so dearly departed Frank had really known his way around a chopstick. By the time Mrs. Hudson had finished with her stories, the stomachs of all three women were sore from a combination of laughing and overeating.

Passing around the fortune cookies, Molly asked, "Have you ever played the in bed game?" Seeing the question on the faces of the two, Molly elaborated, "You read your fortune out loud in your sexiest voice and end it with 'in bed'. I'll go first." Molly opened the cellophane and broke open the cookie. For a moment she frowned at the slip of paper and then giggled, "Well, it's the oddest fortune I've ever gotten but I guess it works." Clearing her throat, she pouted her lips and whispered, "U in bed."

Laughing, Mary opened her cookie and observed, "I seem to have received the texting version of fortune cookies. It's only one letter." Shrugging her shoulders, she read in an artificially husky voice, "I in bed."

Molly complained, "Mine was also only one letter. They've given us defective cookies. Go on, Martha, what do you have? An emoticon?"

Not understanding Molly's joke, Mrs. Hudson looked puzzled as she breathily read, "O in bed."