Umm, as you all are aware, this fic was put to complete, due to my exams coming up soon, and also cos I tend to have ideas totally not relating to caring. But after the recent review I got, it made me remember about it, because I actually have thought of including where Sherlock gets his 'women information'. So now this is the closure of this dear fic of mine, and sincere thank you for the support thus far - thank you to those who took the time to review since Chapter 1: Alexcutiepie, Lannie, foreversherlock, rory'sfan04, Jest Tal, faeryenchanter, Michelle, Kataraang0, Anongal, louisethelibrarian, IvPayne, Snicklefritz, thestarlitrose, daisherz365, coloradoandcolorado1, SWood, Hellscrimsonangel, lostmypen120, animelover91895, and the two different Guest, and big hugs to those who favourite :) Still, it's not the end. One-shots are my new thing ^.^ - sorry this was long. This chapter's directly after what happened in the previous chapter.

John stayed up, waiting for Sherlock to return that night. It had been a weird few weeks recently, and he felt the need to know what had happened to his flatmate.

Him being nice to Molly? Now that was a scenario he had never dared dream would come true.

The part with him making paper flowers for her had started to make him wonder. Why would he bother to do something nice in the first place? It really was nothing like what Sherlock would do, nonetheless voluntarily.

When Sherlock announced he was going out that evening, John was in the kitchen making tea, as usual. He brought his cup to his armchair and set the cup on the arm, seating himself carefully. "Oh yeah? I'm not interested."

It was rather true that John did not care where his flatmate would be going. As long as he gets some time off from someone's tendency to shout at him to bring him his phone (which always happens to be in the pocket of the jacket that someone was wearing), excessive scrappings of a violin, and the shootings on the wall, he would not question his whereabouts. But still, a small part in him would always wonder what the hell the git's up to, and whether he'd be back with knife cuts and purple bruises on his face. That small part came out, and made John wait anxiously for Sherlock's return to 221B.

Alas, after an additional 27 minutes, the curly haired man came through the door, not without slamming it open and startling a half-awake John first. John rubbed his eyes and blearily watched Sherlock undo his scarf and hang it on the coat rack. He was unbuttoning his coat when John asked, "Where'd you go?"

"Nowhere," was his clipped reply. He was finished with his coat and proceeded to hang it beside his scarf.

John was fully awake now. Sherlock being secretive? Now something breally/b did happen, for Sherlock never bothered to hide from him about where he had been to. In fact, for a number of times, he had even complained about John's absence.

"Sherlock, these past few weeks, did something happen, or something?" he ventured, not knowing how he would react.

"'Something happen'? What do you mean?" Sherlock walked over to the couch, folding his cuffs as he did so, and flopped down it, his long legs hanging off the other end.

"Well, for one, you're being...human."

"Oh really, John? I had no idea I wasn't one all this while," Sherlock sarcastically exclaimed.

"Not that!" John wished he had something hard to throw at him. "No," he sighed and continued, "you're becoming nicer, gentler towards people, Sherlock. And it's different, because you don't do that to...basically anyone! So what's with the change?"

Sherlock curled in the couch so that his back was the only thing visible to John. "None of your business."

"Seriously, Sherlock. Secrecy?"

"Alliteration. Good job, John," Sherlock 'praised' him.

"Sherlock!" John had had enough. He had never seen his friend being so resistant about his whereabouts, and it was starting to scare him. Who knows, he may have been taking some kind of new drug; maybe that was what brought out the new side of him? John did not like this theory, so he stood up immediately, warming himself up to an interrogation with Sherlock Holmes.

It would have made a bigger impact, if the cup did not wobble on the armrest and lost its balance, breaking into pieces, with tea seeping onto the carpet and spoiling the moment. John looked down, horrified for a moment. It was Mrs Hudson's best carpet; the last time they -SHERLOCK- dirtied it, she never let them forget about it for 2 weeks. Sarah had giggled at him being scolded by Mrs Hudson about it when she came over and it was embarrassing. An ex-Army doctor being reprimanded by an elder woman over a stain on the carpet? Not cool, to say the least.

"I believe you'll be up to your ears with the voice of one Mrs Hudson soon," Sherlock sniggered from the couch.

"Shut up, you!" John glared at his back, squatting down to clean up the mess he had made as best as he could, while thinking of a suitable retort to say.

Just then, he remembered Sherlock's quip about him hardly entering his room, thus not being aware of what he was doing. John figured the cause of Sherlock's change in behaviour would be in his room, and he smiled mischeviously. "So you won't be telling me what the hell had happened to you, huh? No problem, your room will provide the answer."

Sherlock tensed and slowly realised that John had meant that he would be looking into his room. He immediately turned himself and bounced out of the couch, only to hear a door slam somewhere in the flat. Damn, he's fast.

/

John could not stop gawking for 5 minutes even after he left Sherlock's room. His eyes wide, mouth hanging open, he looked questioningly at the owner of the room.

"It was for research," Sherlock said, plucking solemnly at the strings of his violin.

"I never knew 'research' included monthly subscriptions to Cleo and Metropolitan."

"Well, I need to get my information from somewhere!" he said, almost shouting, putting down his violin unceremoniously on the coffee table.

John gave him a sort of pained look. "But Cleo? Really? Most of the 'information' they have are about how to improve your performance in…bed…"

"Obviously, I ignored those useless to my cause!"

John scratched his head at Sherlock's unusual method of retrieving information on women. Well, sure, Cleo and Metropolitan are quite female-centered magazines, but are they really that trustworthy? Heck, John tried on one of his ex once one of the tips suggested by one of that kind of magazines on how to make your girlfriend less angry at you; the result he got was actually the opposite of what was predicted from that magazine and he had a red mark on his left cheek that did not fade until four days later as evidence.

Still, you cannot exactly do 'research' on women; each of them are different, and no two are alike, so whatever that was said about a female in the magazine may not be true for another. Was it not better to just talk to one? Since Sherlock's the one with loads of brain cells, John was positive he could have at least 4 girls hanging on to his every word.

Oh yes, John thought, Sherlock severely lack social skills. I forgot.

Then he frowned. There's no need for him to be researching on women for a woman's sake, is there? As Sherlock, finding John's mind to be miles away, wandered to the fridge to grab a couple of biscuits to munch on, John ticked off with his fingers Sherlock's female acquaintances, and see whether any one of them had made his flatmete this obsessed with female magazines.

First off, Sergeant Donovan. Bickering non-stop with him and in numerous occassions called him Freak with a capital F. Don't think Sherlock would be too fond of the nickname, so she is definitely out of the list.

Next, Sarah. Hardly talks to him, but when they do, he deduces her. Has never felt her stinging slaps before, though; lucky. Anyway, other than that, very less interaction compared to Donovan, so no, not her.

John raked his head for more female names, and found Irene. Dead, alive, who cares? Been a long while since he last saw her, and hope it continues to stay that way.

Mrs Hudson? Ugh, John thought, giving a fake shudder. No offence, but he did not think Sherlock would go for someone almost twice his age.

That only leaves Molly. …aha.

John smiled and glanced at the 'reseacher of women'. Looks like someone's not immune to the pathologist's shy charms.

'Ahem, I was wondering, Sherlock," John said conversationally when Sherlock flopped onto the couch once more, "what made you want to do research on women?"

"I lack information in that area, so isn't it logical that I would try to learn more about it?" Sherlock answered as his eyelids drooped, indicating he was about to enter his mind palace soon.

But John would not let him. "Are you sure it's not because of a certain Molly Hooper?"

The man on the couch actually turned rigid and slowly directed his eyes on him. John became unerved by the action.

"Well, it-it is true, right? Molly?" he confirmed gently.

There was a moment of silence before Sherlock gave a sigh and sat up, his head in his hands on his lap. "Yes," came the muffled confession.

"Aha. So what did she do?"

Sherlock pondered about telling his flatmate, but finally decided he had more experience than him, so he spilled the beans. "I overheard Molly talking to one of her collegues."

John waited patiently for an elaboration, but after a minute, when none came, he grew frustrated. "You might want to expand on that. I don't have amazing inference skills."

Sherlock rolled his eyes and stood up, pacing the room. "I was walking past the lab door when I heard her. She was saying something like 'Sherlock's not a freak! He's just different from us that's all!'. There was a reply that aggravated Molly more, for she said, 'Look, I work with him! He's not what all those nasty rumours are saying about him! He's actually one of the most dedicated and honest person in a world where corruption and lies happen 24/7!' I honestly did not particularly understand what her last sentence meant, actually."

Sherlock stopped pacing and turned to stare at John with slightly wide eyes. He must be confused about why Molly defended him even after the treatment she had received from him, not many of them nice, John thought, and expressed this to him as well.

Sherlock nodded. "I guess she saw something in me. I have no idea what it may be, but it had made her…care for me, even after everything she's been through around me. That she was still willing to defend me even after the treatment she'd gotten from me, it made me want to repay her kindness. I don't like being in debts."

"So you think receiving Molly's kindness is a sort of 'debt' you have to pay back? She expects nothing in return, in actual fact!"

"How would you know?"

"Whatever Molly does, it comes from her heart. She does it sincerely and has never expected some sort of reward. That is just who she is: kind."

Sherlock looked at John again before giving a brief nod in understanding.

"So, this won't be the end of you being nice to Molly, right?" John was worried that after this, Sherlock would go back to his old ways, and eventually hurt Molly's feelings again.

"Well, Molly has done a lot of kindness to me. It's only fair I repay each and every one of them, even if she doesn't expect them being returned."

"So, wait, those magazines are not exactly for 'women research', are they?"

"Half the intent was still for research, yes. But I don't know how I should go about repaying her kindness, thus the subscriptions to various female magazines to aid me."

"You could have asked me," John said, pointing to himself.

"And risk saying something bad? No thank you."

John, offended at that, pointed the finger at him instead. "You know what, you're damn lucky you've not gotten so much as a glare from Molly when you followed the tips those magazines offered. And I once had to endure a lecture on why I shouldn't trust those 'fake advice'."

"Maybe because I'm much better than you?" Sherlock joked, giving him a smirk as he walked back to his room to continue reading the magazines.

"No, because you have cheekbones," John mumbled morosely.

Again, thank you, hope you enjoyed this, and please look out for my one-shots :DDD