Chapter 4: Reset

It was a mistake to help out with a late shift today. What was she thinking? An earlier shift, even one that started at 5 am would have been preferable to one that ended at 7 at night. With only an hour left at work, her body was feeling the 5 and a half hour time difference.

Jet lag is never easy and she remembers now. Maybe she was feeling extra generous now that she's been buoyed by her trip, which was surprisingly magical. A little over three weeks ago, she left London in a fog and came back with a clarity of mind, body and spirit. Cliché? Yes. But that's probably what happens when you hit rock bottom. You are forced to be open to anything because it's the only way out. She was open, alright. And was better for it.

Daydreaming when one is sewing back up a corpse can be deadly so she shakes herself awake and turns up the volume of her bluetooth speaker. That's when she sees him peeking from the doors to the morgue. He's looking at her with questioning eyes as he holds up a cup of coffee.

Molly finds herself genuinely happy to see him. And not just because he's bringing salvation in a cup. He walks in and hands her a coffee with panache.

"Two shots of espresso. I thought you might need it around this time."

"Thank you. I was going to end up like one of these guys if I carried on." She takes it hungrily and chugs it down. The hot liquid is a shock to her mouth, but the sensation is welcomed.

Sherlock is watching her, amused.

"What?" There is no irritation in her voice this time around. No hint of angst. Maybe there's even a tinge of playfulness.

"Welcome back to the dead center of town, Molly Hooper." He gives her a wink and turns around to walk back. And then he stops to add, "I'll be upstairs."

Looks like she's not the only one in better spirits these days.

She meets him at the lab after taking a quick shower. She didn't realize how much of Mr. Dickens she had on her coat and hair.

Sherlock is hunched over at his favorite station, pen in hand, with a beaker, flasks and pipet next to him. It is a familiar scene, one that brings many fond memories to a time before … real tragedies happened.

"Hello Molly. Have you washed off the smell of death?" He talks to her without even lifting his head. He knows when she's around.

"Ha-ha. I'm just setting my specimens up for tomorrow, then I'm heading out. Can you close out the lab for me?"

"Actually, I'm finishing up here," he says, finally facing her. He gives her a once over. "Chips?"

She contemplates the question, but not too much. It's not a dinner date invitation as this had become routine for them at one point. She just wants to get a feel if she could stay up long enough to eat. She thinks, and then, it's settled. She gives a slow smile.

"Oh, God yes. I miss fried, bland food!"

So they end up in their usual haunt, seating in their usual spot. After three weeks of bold, spicy dishes, Molly welcomes the taste of home. It feels like home, much more so that it has in the past few months since Mary passed.

The pair seem to have hit the reset button. Just like she told him: Nothing has to change. Their conversation is easy. She's happy about that. Somehow, it's better like this - not to rock the boat, so to speak.

"You look different," he says as he takes a sip of water without breaking eye contact.

These throw away statements coming from Sherlock can be so charged. One never knows how much he's deduced before you answer. How much must she say?

"I feel different," she says. It's true. She holds his gaze. "And you?"

"Like a fog has lifted."

Now there's a loaded answer. He's been rebuilding his memories and asking his parents and brother to confirm them. He's slowly able to communicate with Eurus through music and had just recently made a breakthrough when she picked up her violin and played counterpoint, however briefly. Many things are becoming clearer to him.

But the one thing that has not been addressed yet, and likely won't be, was the last thing he said to her before she left. What did those words mean in the end, to him?

It tormented her for days on end. It held back her enjoyment of Meena's grand wedding party. It wasn't till day two in Kathmandu, on the second week of her trip, when she was made to realize that in the end, it doesn't matter. What matters is what her love for him means to her.

But she doesn't want to ruin the night with deep conversations about feelings. Especially not with Sherlock.

"Baker Street is coming along well," Molly says to change the subject. "And Rosie. She's crawling!"

"You've gone through the album, I take it?"

"Yes, thank you. It's beautiful… and sweet."

She found a collection of her social media pictures (Facebook, Instagram and Twitter) from her recent trip to India and Nepal in an album that had pictures of Rosie and Sherlock's flat interspersed in each page. There were roughly 22 pages of pictures - one for each day she was away. On the back of the album was an envelope that had a key and an invitation for this Sunday. It was the grand reopening of 221B Baker Street. She was moved to tears at the thoughtful welcome back gift.

"Those pictures were stunning. How did you end up doing a 1.8 kilometer zipline?"

"Ah, well that. Sometimes, you just have to go for it. You know, 'Don't think, just do'. It also helps when you get shamed into doing it."

Molly giggles as she quietly recalls how her serendipitous travel buddy Krysztof cajoled her into taking a trip to Nepal instead of spending all her three weeks in Mumbai.

Sherlock is studying her, she feels it, and it unsettles her. She takes a big bite of her carrot cake, daring him to do the same.

"Hmm. You're eating. What case did you just finish?" She needs him to stop looking at her like that.

"I wasn't on a case." He takes a bite of his dessert without breaking eye contact.

"Oh. And so you were at Bart's for ...personal experiments?"

"Well, yes. You know, while Baker Street is being rebuilt." He's looking shifty. And then it hits her.

"You missed me!" She gives him a wide, knowing smile.

Sherlock turns red. Is he blushing?

"That's ok," she says, saving him. "I missed you, too. But you're buying tonight. This holiday wasn't cheap!"

"I'm rebuilding my home... that was bombed!" He genuinely sounds put out. But then again, he's always been a superb actor.

"Pfft. Shouldn't Mrs. Hudson's insurance cover that? Anyway, your brother should help pay for it." She knows she's won this round. And he knows it too. So he pays and he walks her home. Just like old times.

The grand re-opening of Baker Street is a small pleasant affair. Molly gives Greg and John big hugs as she walks through the door. Mrs. Hudson is on the floor with Rosie.

"Molly dear!" Mrs. Hudson squeals in delight as she makes a move to get up.

"Oh please Mrs. H don't bother to get up." She kneels down to hug the older lady. While she's at Rosie's level, she gives her godchild a big squeeze.

"I've missed you so much, my darling!" From behind her back, Molly produces an irregularly wrapped present with a long, curled ribbons. Rosie rips the paper to expose a stuffed pink Asian elephant. This will be the first of many, many gifts from that part of the world.

"Oh, that's sweet Aunt Molly," John says as he joins them on the floor. He makes funny elephant noises with the stuffed animal in his hands, barging its trunk on his child's nose. Rosie laughs heartily, with a snorting kind of laugh, and is soon joined by her dad, Greg and Mrs. Hudson.

Molly is overjoyed at this homecoming. She hasn't seen John happy in a very long time. So to come back and hear him laugh is precious. She looks around her to see the love of this little family she's somehow a part of, and the moment brings some tears to hear eyes.

It's then that she notices Sherlock leaning against the kitchen entrance, staring at them too. His eyes finally finds hers and holds her gaze.

A quick image passes her. One much like this moment, but instead it's Sherlock on the floor with her, with their child.

She stiffens for a split second, before realizing that he can't actually read thoughts. It'll take her years to get over this man, she knows this. She just has to live in peace with it till then.

She gives him a warm smile. In return, he goes to help her from the floor and sidles up a little too close to her as she tries to regain her balance. She resists the urge to sniff him. Thankfully, Mrs. Hudson needs some help up, too, so Sherlock, being the gentleman that he is, obliges.

"Molly, sit down here," says Mrs. Hudson. "It's your chair, you know. Sherlock got it for you."

Sherlock rolls his eyes.

"Well, I figured you might as well have a chair too, why not." He is a bit too nonchalant about it.

"Don't I get one?" Greg is teasing of course.

Both Sherlock and John look at him, and point to the client chair.

"You do." They say in unison.

After Mrs. Hudson and Sherlock finish opening their housewarming gifts, everyone settles back with drinks in hand.

"Show us your pictures!" Greg exclaims. He is quite fond of globetrotting when he can.

Molly brings out the photo album that Sherlock left in her flat as a welcome back present. They are impressed with the pictures.

She's always been fond of taking pictures of little moments and grand vistas. There are few unguarded pictures of her in the album looking absolutely resplendent.

"I obviously didn't take all of those pictures. My friend Kris, who I met at the wedding, takes photos for Unicef and the like. He took those ones with me that aren't selfies."

And just when a quiet settled in the group seated by the couch, Sherlock, who had been lurking by the window with his eyes fixed on Molly, blurts out:

"Oh God. He's in love with you?!"

Everyone's head turn to Sherlock.

"Is that so surprising to you?" Molly tries to suppress the sting and rejection in her voice.

But they all hear it. Suddenly it feels like *that* Baker Street party all over again. John and Mrs. Hudson are giving him the evil eye, and Greg has his eyes fixed firmly on his shoes.

Sherlock, suddenly aware that what he said was not good, tries to open his mouth but nothing comes out. And to think they were in a good place just a few days ago! She can't allow him to make her feel that way.

So she takes a deep breath and was about to tell him it's okay when he says, "No, not really. It's just that he's g-" He stops for a beat and continues. "He can't ...be with you."

John's eyes grow bigger and tries to send mental darts at Sherlock. He somehow can't help but dig his own grave when it comes to Molly.

"So you think he can't be in love with me because he can't be with me?" Molly needs to test his logic because he is not making sense. "That has no bearing on love whatsoever! Just take a look at this room."

Molly continues, and tries, but fails, to keep her voice even.

"Greg here is still in love with his ex-wife, even though he tries so hard to get over her. Mrs. Hudson still carries a torch for Mr. Chattergy, despite his two wives. And John, well... he has Rosie to remind him of his Mary every day."

She looks around the room and they're all silent in acknowledging this amalgamation of cupid's misfires. They are also in awe of Molly for giving the great Sherlock Holmes a lesson in love.

"And then, of course there's the obvious..."

Molly is about to continue when Sherlock speaks up.

"Not what I meant. I mean," he pauses to formulate how to say what he needs to say next. "I can see myself through his lens... I see you like he sees you."

John does a double take and stares at Sherlock, trying to understand what he just said, if he really did just say it.

Mrs. Hudson and Greg meanwhile are slowly understanding what they think he just said and look at each other with a proud smile.

But Molly just blinks and wrinkles her nose. She thinks she finally understands what he's saying, but just can't believe it. Then again, it would make sense.

"Ooooh. Okay. That's quite unexpected… " She nods slowly. "But I can work with that." And then an idea…

"Kris is having some of his work exhibited in two weeks. I think you should come with me."

"Like, as a date?" He eyes her suspiciously.

"Sure. Fine. Whatever."

Author's Note: One more chapter to go! I had to re-imagine and rewrite this chapter because I realized Molly would have begun to 'heal' and start the process of getting over Sherlock after those revelations.

One more chapter to go!