Chapter 7: When a Holmes Comes to Call

"Please, can you answer the door?" said Molly, in a voice similar to that of a mouse. "I can't see him now."

John nodded and got up from the sofa. "I'll knock him out if I have to, Molly," he said before walking to the front door, which she couldn't see from her place on the couch. She held her breath, wishing she had Toby in her lap, whose purring would have calmed her somewhat.

She heard the door open and some muffled conversation. Molly couldn't make out the words, but she sensed immediately that the voice whom John was speaking to was not Sherlock.

But it was a Holmes.

In the next moment, John was coming back into the living room followed by the lean, elegant figure that was Mycroft Holmes, using his umbrella like the most elegant walking stick.

"Oh, Mycroft!" said Molly, putting a hand to her heart in absolute relief. "I'm so happy it's you."

Mycroft gave a pleased smirk. Both John and Molly wondered if anybody had ever said that to him before. "And not my darling brother," he finished for her. "Quite understandable."

"You saw the whole thing, then," said John, no question in his statement.

"Of course," said Mycroft casually.

Molly had never felt completely at ease in Mycroft's company, from the first time she had met him at Christmas in the morgue to the few times he would see his brother while Sherlock stayed in her flat. He always had an air of condescension about him when speaking to anybody, even more than Sherlock. Only his elder brother, Molly would think. So, to ease her discomfort, she asked politely, "May I pour you a cup of tea, Mycroft?"

"No, thank you," he said as he reached down for a scone. He bit into one and immediately gave a genuine smile instead of a smirk. "You always have such excellent pastries, Dr. Hooper. You could give my pastry chef a run for his money."

Molly smiled at the compliment, the ice broken, while John looked quite surprised. He'd never seen this side of Mycroft before: the side that had a sweet tooth as big as any little boy.

When Mycroft had finished his raspberry scone, he indicated for Molly to stand up, which she did. "Dr. Hooper, I wish that we were twenty-five years back in time, when I could still apologize for my little brother. I'm sure that Dr. Watson would too, if he could. If it would help you, I can arrange for my brother to work on a case overseas that would keep him occupied for a week or so. I wish I could promise more time, but even I can only do so much when it comes to my darling brother."

There was no condescension in Mycroft's tone for once; there was only genuine apology. Very gratefully, Molly held out a hand for him to take, which he did. "I would be very grateful for that, Mycroft, thank you." She turned her gaze to John. "But only if you wouldn't mind –"

"No, of course I don't!" said John. "It'll be easier to keep him from making any more stupid mistakes with you if he's on the continent somewhere."

"Then I gratefully accept your offer," said Molly, looking back at the elder Holmes.

"Though my brother and I do not always…get along…I shall always be concerned for his welfare. You, Dr. Hooper, have done so much for him and therefore me, so this can only be a small way of repaying my deep gratitude."

"Well, just for that," said Molly with a smile. "I'll pack up the rest of these scones for you to take home."

"Excellent!" said Mycroft with glee, and John couldn't help but chuckle. As Molly wrapped the plate up, Mycroft said, "Incidentally, I must thank you in person, Dr. Hooper, for giving me the best laugh I've had in years. I don't think I've laughed so hard since our childhood, when my seven-year-old brother decided it would be a good idea to test the effects of caffeine by drinking two whole pots with breakfast."

John and Molly burst out laughing, the images of such an incident more hilarious than the last. It took some time for the three of them to compose themselves. After Molly had handed the wrapped plate to Mycroft, he said to John, " Dr. Watson, I'd be happy to give you a ride back to Baker Street if you're leaving now. I'd like to stop there anyway to…check on his condition."

John snorted, and looked at Molly. "Give me a few minutes, then?"

Mycroft nodded and, after smiling at Molly one last time, walked out of the apartment. John stepped up to Molly. "I may not see you for a while, so…are you going to be all right, really?"

Molly nodded, but then pinched the bridge of her nose in thought and frustration. "This is all still so confusing, though…why now? What has made him change his mind? And how, how could he…after all we've been through…"

John bit his lip, and knew he couldn't leave her in this state. He hadn't seen her look this distressed since…then it came to him. "You remember what happened at the Christmas party?"

Molly lowered her hand and met his gaze. "How could I forget?" she said dryly.

"Well…you know what made him go off like that, right? I forced him throw a party, he hates the holidays in general, he didn't like my date, the Irene Adler thing had messed with his mind, and…crazy as this sounds, I think he thought he was helping you…The only problem was he didn't know…"

"…It was him," Molly concluded, nodding.

"So, just like then…I'm not trying to make excuses for him, by any means. He deserved what you gave him. I just want to help make sense of all this. I'm sure…his intention was not to hurt you."

Molly couldn't help but smile at John. Even when he was enraged at his best friend, Sherlock was still his best friend and that loyalty was still there.

After a minute of silence, Molly replied in all seriousness: "This time…it's going to take a hell of a lot more than nine words and a kiss on the cheek for Sherlock to get my forgiveness, let alone…" Molly closed her eyes and shook her head a bit. "He's a lot like Peter Pan in some ways…so extraordinary but still such a child…" Molly opened her eyes and gave him a soft smile. "Thank you for everything, John. Truly."

They shared a tight hug, like two comrades in arms. For, in a way, they were: what else could you call people who put up with Sherlock Holmes for that long?

John kissed her forehead and then left Molly with a wave. Once the door shut behind him, Molly went back to her couch (where Toby had now curled up), put him on her lap, and turned on the television, not quite ready to begin the heavy process of processing all that she had learned from John's visit.

Parade's End was still on – apparently it was a marathon – and Molly watched for a bit longer – even though the main character did resemble you-know-who in a lot of ways. At the end of the second episode, Molly completely empathized with the young woman he loved when she said, in such a heartbroken way, "Why…why didn't you kiss me then? Why didn't you?"

But, in her heart, the question was: Why now? What has changed you? We've been in such a good place after we've come so far…How could you hurt me like this now?