When it's more fun to be harmonizing

John blinked, feeling a pleasant weight on his chest. The weight rumbled, pinpricks in four places on his chest, as if pinching him. The rumbling grew louder, and a small wet thing touched his nose, before the noise grew louder, and something akin to wet Velcro dragged across his nose. He opened his eyes, finding Molly's cat happily kneading him.

"Why is Toby on my chest?" he asked aloud.

"He crawled up there a while ago." He turned his head to see Mary, hands on either side of her wide belly reclining beside him.
"Why are we on Molly's bed?"

"You got drugged during the case, and Molly's flat was closest. It's my turn to watch you and make sure you keep breathing."

"Oh," John nodded. Seemed reasonable. He did remember feeling the needle in his thigh. Speaking of… "Why can't I feel my legs?"

"Side-effect," she shrugged.

"What was I drugged with?" he asked.

"I don't know. Molly and Sherlock are running tests in the kitchen to figure it out."

"In the kitchen?" he frowned. "In Molly's kitchen?"

"Well, it wouldn't be the first time they've turned her kitchen into a laboratory, he did use her flat as a bolt-hole while he was in hiding. She had most of the equipment here from earlier anyway, it seemed easier than running all the way to St. Barts."

"Oh," John stared at the ceiling for a few moments. "What about the person who drugged me?" Mary frowned.

"I think Sherlock pistol-whipped him, according to Molly he did anyway. Lestrade will question him as soon as he comes to." John felt the bed dip, and he watched Mary boost herself up into a sitting position before she got to her feet. "I'll go and see if I can make you a cup of tea, if they haven't commandeered the kettle."

In a little while, Molly appeared, nudging John awake again.

"M'fine," he said. "Just a little dizzy,"

"Mary made a pot of tea, I've brought you a cup."

"Where is Mary?"

"Keeping Sherlock from tearing apart my toaster oven, she sent me in here to make sure you're still alive and if you were, to drink this, can you sit up?"

"Think so," his arms still worked at least, so with Molly's help he eased himself up to lean against the padded headboard.

"How are your legs?"

"Think the feelings coming back, they feel like pins and needles."

"Here," she pulled the covers back, shooing Toby away before taking John's calves, gently squeezing. "That? Feel that?"

"Ow! Yes," he grunted. "Keep going, it'll get the blood flowing again."

After a little while John said he felt better and in another half-hour, with Molly's help, he was able to hobble into the living room. She set him on the couch where he could see Mary and Sherlock, the latter muttering to himself while Mary held up a notepad for him so he could see his math.

"Any progress?" Molly asked.

"I see John is back among the living, good to know it's not permanent."

"What was it?"

"Some home-made form of a date-rape drug," Sherlock said. "It's newer, very expensive on the black market. Used usually for human trafficking rings. It's quite efficient," he seemed impressed. The room was still, and he looked up. "Not good?"

"Not exactly," Molly ruffled his curls.

"It doesn't explain how they get into the victim's systems though. What John was injected with was the same formula as the last three women, but it was a higher concentration, of course if they've expanded to kidnapping men now they'd need a higher dose-" Molly let him think aloud, turning to the other two.

"Mary, go sit down, put your feet, up," she took the notebook from her hands.

"It's not that bad-"
"You're almost to your due-date, you're supposed to be on bed-rest!" Molly scolded.

"Dull," Sherlock and Mary both answered and John chuckled.

"Come on," he patted the couch cushion. "Come sit with me. Maybe we can get Molly to make us food."

"Give me a few minutes to clear a spot on the stove," Molly said. "What do you want me to cook?"

"OH!" Sherlock leapt to his feet. "OH!" he clasped Molly's face. "That's it!"

"What?" she frowned, despite Sherlock smooshing her face. He gave her a shake and she relaxed, grinning.

"Food! Stupid! In the food! It's administered in the food! They were testing it on John, if it's injected straight into the blood-stream it's too obvious, they'll switch to food. No injection sight, it passes through the system within a few hours, and only the side-effects remain! People would assume they're only drunk! Idiot!" he pulled her forward, kissing her soundly before releasing her, snatching his coat, putting it on with a flourish. "If we hurry, we'll be able to catch them in the act! Come on Molly!" he sprinted out the door, leaving the pathologist numbly grasping the chair for support.

"I'm- uh, I'll just- we'll be back," she stuttered, grabbing her jacket and pepper spray.

"Mary, monitor John, see if he has any other symptoms, I've written them down on the table!" Sherlock bellowed.

"What do you mean on the table?!" Molly shouted back at him as she hurried out the door, slamming it behind her, cutting off Sherlock's reply.

"Now what?" John asked. "I don't dare use my legs yet."

"I've got to rest my back," Mary said with a grunt as she shifted uncomfortably. "Let's see if Greg will bring us food,"

"Oo," Mary reached for the phone, dialing the DI.

"Mary?"

"Yes, Sherlock kissed Molly."

"Okay. Just wanted to be sure it wasn't a side-effect of the stuff." She smiled, patting his thigh.

"Shall I kiss you, just to be sure?"

"Oh…if you insist," he smiled cheekily.