I said I would post the next chapter this weekend and I did. Despite the fact it's technically Monday here since it's 2 am and I can't type properly anymore.

One more chapter to go and even then I won't own Sherlock. Sadly.


Sherlock was completely unaware of the two people that moved around his flat for the past ten minutes. John made tea for his wife and himself, and left an extra cup on the coffee table in front of his unresponsive friend. He hoped they would catch Sherlock bored between cases and get him to listen to what they have to say and hopefully get him to agree with their plan.

Instead they arrived to Baker Street when the consulting detective was deep inside his mind palace and didn't respond no matter how many times they called his name.

"Maybe we should go home and try again tomorrow." John suggested as he took a seat in his armchair.

Mary, who got comfortable in Sherlock's black leather chair, frowned at him and shook her head before taking a sip of her hot tea. She worked hard on coming up with an idiot proof plan and she wanted to see it happen as soon as possible. And this Saturday was perfect for it. That also meant they only had two more days to get everything they need together.

"You know how rarely she takes weekends off. We have a perfect opportunity and if we miss this Saturday who knows when we'll be able to do it again." Mary pointed out and her husband sighed, he knew she was right but at the same time they were losing time. They needed Sherlock to agree to everything and help out with certain details and he was currently on a sofa impersonating a corpse.

"I hope you are ready for an argument. He'll never agree. And why does it have to be a weekend?" John said leaning back in the comfortable armchair, "We need to get one like this for our place."

His wife ignored the comment about the chair and instead pointed out, "It just does, and he'll agree. He did try to fix things last week, you said so yourself. Perhaps he'll see us trying to help as meddling in his life but eventually he'll have to admit we're right. And if nothing else helps I'll remind him he's arguing with a pregnant woman and that he should stop if he knows what's good for him."

"He's Sherlock. Try to use that argument and he'll deduce how much weight you've put on."

Mary frowned, "He wouldn't."

"Oh, but he would." John said smiling at his wife.

Mrs. Watson sent a glare in the direction of the prone figure on the sofa before looking towards the table covered with papers, "Are there any markers among that mess?"

"Sure. Why?"

"I want to draw him a mustache. Like the one he had in the restaurant when he came to inform you he's not dead. You remember?" a sour look on her husband's face made Mary grin, "Yes, I see you do remember. He looks good with mustache."

"Better then me?" John teased.

"You looked ancient." A deep voice startled the couple, "It needed to go away; I couldn't be seen running around with an old man."

"Not a word." John said to his wife just as she opened her mouth to comment. He knew exactly what she wanted to tease him with.

Instead Mary smiled conspicuously at him before focusing on the consulting detective, "How long were you aware we are in the flat?"

"Long enough to hear what you planed to do with a marker." Sherlock answered after sitting up and taking a cup of the table. He took a sip and added, "I heard you come in and thought if I stay still you'll leave. Didn't work as planed."

"We're here to help Sherlock." John said after few minutes of silence.

"I don't need help." Sherlock sounded insulted, "Help with what?"

"With what you failed to do last week. Fixing things with Molly. Am I wrong to assume you haven't been at Barts since?" John asked as he stood up and took his and Mary's cup to the kitchen and placed them in the surprisingly empty sink.

"Of course I went to Barts! I went to visit Mrs. Hudson."

"But you haven't been to the morgue." Mary pointed out and the consulting detective frowned.

He tried to make an excuse and blame the low number of interesting cases but the Watson's weren't fooled. They knew he avoided the pathologist because he didn't know how to approach her. Mary would never say it out loud for Sherlock to hear but she thought it was sweet that he was so nervous about talking to Molly. It was obvious she was important to him.

"Had no reason to." Sherlock said fully knowing that argument is completely invalid. How many times did he visit the morgue without any valid reason in the past? How many times did he drag John along just so he would have company as he annoyed Molly and tried to get some body part from her?

"Nice try." John's words confirmed the retired army doctor reacted in the way he expected him to.

"We want to help, Sherlock. You and Molly are friends and something happened between you two that-"

"Nothing happened!" Sherlock interrupted Mary and the blonde woman frowned.

"Well maybe something should happen. John said you invited her over last week because you wanted to dance with her."

The consulting detective nodded, "I didn't dance with her at the wedding. And then she left early and I never got the chance to ask her."

"Would you have asked? If she had stayed longer." Mary asked and Sherlock nodded silently, "Then let us help you accomplish that."


Molly Hooper opened her eyes and smiled. It's been a while since she was this content, this rested. The shift ended on time with no surprise postmortems at the end of her work hours, no paperwork that needed to be filled right that instant, and most importantly no consulting detective demanding to see a body or help with an experiment.

A frown appeared on Molly's face the moment she remembered the state of her friendship with Sherlock. To be honest, she had no idea in which state it was. He invited her along to help him with cases and appreciated her input. He asked if she wanted to go eat with him and wished her luck with Tom. He acted like a friend should. And then the wedding happened.

Throwing the covers away she got out of the bed and took the soft purple dressing gown from the hook on the bedroom door. It was a gift from Tom and was the same color as Jeanine's dress. Remembering those two facts Molly huffed and let it fall on the floor before she got the old ratty one from her wardrobe. It was petty of her but she didn't care.

Moving to the kitchen to make tea and something for breakfast she focused on Sherlock again, more specifically on what happened since the wedding. She was angry at him but at the same time angry at herself.

He didn't dance with her but why would he? It made more sense that he dances with the maid of honor then with someone who is engaged to another man. He didn't notice the ring was missing from her finger but how could he? She didn't wear it during postmortems, rings and plastic cloves don't work well together.

He didn't notice she was sad… only he did. It took a while but he did. And she blew him off without listening what he had to say.

Molly huffed and slammed her tea cup on the table. She was doing it again, making excuses for Sherlock's behavior. Just like she always did. And for the same reason too. She loved the git, there was no helping it. And he didn't see her as anything else but a friend and potential helper in case John was unable to come along.

Briefly she wondered what would have happened if she wasn't engaged to Tom that day when he asked her if she wanted to grab some fish and chips. She knew it was useless to think about those things, about what could have been. It was all in the past and never coming back.

She needed to move forward and not be discouraged because her first attempt at doing just so failed. Not all men were like Tom.

But no man was like Sherlock.

It was half an hour later, when Molly finished her meal and made herself comfortable on the sofa with a book in her hand that someone knocked on her door. A sigh escaped her and she dropped the thick book on the coffee table and stood up. And to think she actually believed she would have a whole weekend for herself without anyone dropping by unannounced. What was she thinking?

"Mary? Hullo!" she was surprised as she opened the front door and saw the blonde woman standing on the other side.

"Hi Molly. May I come in?"

"Oh, yes. Of course." She opened the door wider to let the other woman in and closed it after her.

Molly looked down on herself and sighed. She didn't bother to change out of her pajamas and the old dressing gown after breakfast; in fact she planed to stay dressed that way the entire weekend. Perhaps that wasn't such a good idea.

"Lovely place you have here." Mary commented looking around the sitting room, "It looks really cozy."

"It is." Molly agreed before offering to make tea. But Mary had different plans. And before she managed to understand what was going on Molly found herself back in her bedroom with her friend going through her wardrobe. Why? She had no idea.

"I just don't want to go looking for baby thing alone, and looking online is no fun. I tried and clicked on one link and instantly a half dozen pop up windows opened. I gave up after that." Mary was saying as she went through the clothes on the hangers, "John and I agreed we won't wait till birth to find out the gender. Being surprised is fun but I would rather be prepared. Do you have any summer dresses?"

The change of subject confused Molly and it took her a few moments to answer, "No, I don't really wear dresses much. I have a dress I wore at the wedding and a black dress I refuse to wear ever again but that's about it."

"Oh, is it the dress from the Christmas party?" Mary asked before she managed to stop herself. She turned towards Molly, her face reveling she felt sorry for asking in the first place, "John told me about what happened. He doesn't seem like that anymore. Sherlock, I mean."

"No, he doesn't." Molly agreed, "He's friendlier now."

"God, I wish I've knew him before." A grin appeared on Mary's face.

Molly chuckled, "Good thing you didn't. I don't think you and John would have stayed together and got married. He was very efficient at chasing away any girl John showed even a little interest in."

"Oh, I have to thank him then. If it wasn't for him chasing them away I wouldn't be Mrs. Watson now." Mary commented with a wide grin, "Now, back to the subject of your clothes."

"Why are you looking through my clothes anyway? I'm not planning to do anyway."

"But I am. And here we go." Mary pulled out a nice cream skirt that reached just below knees and picked a tan shirt with short crochet sleeves with it, "Go take a shower and change and then we'll go."

Seeing it was useless to try and argue with Mary Molly picked the clothes, together with clean underwear and went to do as told. She knew it was no use to try and reason with a pregnant woman. So she might as well forget her plans of doing nothing.

Not that she actually minded that Mary wanted her to come along. She knew Mary had other friends, it was obvious at the wedding, and didn't actually need her to come along. So below the thin layer of annoyance Molly was actually pleased. Her list of friends was rather small for years now. Working in a morgue does that to a person's social life.


Mary Watson made herself comfortable in the sitting room while Molly was taking a shower. She leaned back on the comfortable sofa and pulled out her cell phone to send a text. The boys needed to get ready for their part of the plan.

When Molly exited the steamed bathroom fully dressed and almost ready to go, she still needed to put on shoes and grab her bag, she found Mary looking though a photo album that was previously on the shelf.

"I suppose it was easier for you to keep believing in him since you knew he was still alive." She said turning the page and finding more photographs of the graffiti that Molly carefully collected while Sherlock was away for those two long years.

"I would have believed in him even if I didn't know it. Because I know him."

"Does Sherlock know about this?" Mary asked as she traced the letters on one of the pictures that was cut from the newspaper. It was the first time the title Watson's Warriors appeared written on a wall.

"No. No one knows. To be honest I don't even know why I did that, why I kept all those photos and put them in an album."

"Because you needed to know you weren't the only one who believed. Because it gave you solace." Mary offered and explanation and smiled kindly, "You should show it to Sherlock sometimes."

Molly shook her head, "He'll just tell me I was wasting my time."

"Maybe. Maybe not." Mary shrugged before standing up and lowering the album on the coffee table next to the book Molly planed to read, "Enough of this, let's go. We have a lot of shops to go through today while I'm still not too large to fit through the door."

"You're in your first trimester." Molly said as Mary walked past her and out the door she held open for the pregnant woman.

"And before I know it I'll be as big as a house."


It took them little over half an hour to reach Westfield shopping center. Despite it being open several years ago Molly never went to the London's largest shopping mall and she enjoyed looking around the huge central Atrium that had a beautiful glass roof. Mary smiled at her giddiness and grabbed her hand so they wouldn't get separated in the crowd before leading the distracted pathologist towards the elevator.

"You know, I completely forgot to ask." Molly spoke as they exited on the second floor, "How did you know where I live? I moved around two weeks ago from the address you sent the wedding invitation to."

But Mary never answered her question. Instead she dragged her into the first children's shop they came across. Molly had a feeling they would visit every single one of them today and wondered exactly how many of them are there.

As it turned out there was far more shops with clothes and equipment for children then Molly expected. After they exited the fifth she was ready to call it quits and leave, never to return. Mary had other plans.

"It's only been two hours. You can't possibly be tired already."

"My schedule was crazy this week and I need rest. That's why I took the entire weekend off. I didn't plan to leave my flat today. Or tomorrow."

"Oh fine. Just one more shop and then we'll take a break and grab a bite. You know there are fifteen restaurants in this place? I'm sure we'll find where they serve something delicious that would charge your batteries for later."

Molly sighed and nodded in agreement, not even bothering to ask what Mary meant with 'for later', before continuing to walk next to the pregnant woman with far too much energy. She glanced at Mary and noticed how radiant she looked. She knew it was because of all the hormones and the wonder they do to a woman's body during the pregnancy. When they aren't changing her moods every few seconds that is.

Of course just one more shop ended up being just three more shops before the two women sat in a nice restaurant and ordered food. The waiter just returned with their orders when Molly noticed a familiar person entering the same restaurant and approaching.

It was obvious Tom didn't realize she was there until he was a few steps away from the table where they sat. And in the moment he saw his former fiancé the color drained from his face and he gasped.

"Hello Tom." Molly greeted him politely.

"Hello Molly." He greeted back before turning towards Mary and nodding in her direction, "Mrs. Watson."

"Having a business lunch?" Molly asked politely because asking if he's meeting the woman he cheated on her with would be exceptionally rude in such a public place. She wasn't as painfully honest as Sherlock. He wouldn't have bothered with any social norms and ask exactly what he wanted to know.

"Yes… I mean, no… Uh… she's… he's not here… I must have entered the wrong restaurant. I'll go look for her… Him… It was great seeing you again Molly." Tom stumbled over his own words before turning around and leaving the restaurant.

From her position she could clearly see him almost crashing into the redhead that was in his flat that night. It looked like she wanted to enter the restaurant but he kept shaking his head before he took her hand and dragged her away.

Molly looked at Mary who looked just as confused, "Odd."

The blonde woman agreed before picking up her fork. What Molly didn't see from her seat across was that Mary had a cell phone in her other hand and was currently sending a text to her husband. He needed to know what just happened.

Or more importantly, Sherlock needed to know. The consulting detective told them what his brother did. She never met Mycroft Holmes but she liked him. He got things done.

Her phone vibrated and she opened the message. It took all of her power not to snort as she read Sherlock was currently folding the napkins to look like Sidney opera house just like at the reception. And she actually believed he deleted that information once it became irrelevant. Sherlock never stopped surprising her.

In the end it weren't just baby related stores they visited. Mary found a Birthday present for John and Molly spent almost an hour in the library. She wasn't even aware they had a library in a shopping center. Once the initial fatigue passed she actually started to enjoy herself.

"What was the last time you had a haircut?" Mary suddenly asked while they were exiting a shoe store.

"What?" was all Molly managed to ask before she was being pulled in the direction of a hair salon.

"Don't worry; nothing drastic. But you need to have those split ends trimmed."

"I know, I've been meaning to go for a while now but I can't find the time."

Mary smiled at her, "Well, there is not better time then the present. You're going to look lovely tonight."

"Tonight? What's tonight?" Molly asked suspiciously.

Mary realized she said too much and tried to cover it up, "I know this great guy that I though you'll like."

"No." Molly interrupted her, "Please, no blind dates. That's how I met Tom. Some friend thought we would be great together and introduced us."

"And you were great together. Till you weren't. What happened?" Mary asked. John told her what Sherlock said, about Tom having lipstick stain on his shirt and some other stuff that led the consulting detective to the deduction Molly was cheated on. But she wanted to hear it from Molly. She knew it would do the pathologist good to talk about it.

"I left the wedding reception early. I… I don't know really why anymore. I kept telling myself it was because… it's not important really. When I arrived back in London and went to the flat Tom had company over. She was just leaving but all the signs were there. On her and in the flat. In the bedroom."

"That arse." Mary mumbled, "You need to find a guy who appreciates you Molly."

Instantly Molly thought about one man she truly loved and knew he doesn't fit in that category and doubted he ever will. At least not in the way she hoped. Sherlock appreciated her friendship, her knowledge, her willingness to help him out. But he didn't appreciate her in the one way she desperately wished he did.

"Someday I will… hopefully."


It was close to seven in the evening when Mary parked the car in front of Molly's building. They opted to skip dinner since John called and informed his wife he was cooking for them. Mrs. Watson blushed as she relayed the message to Molly and two of them laughed. Mary was extremely fortunate and she knew it. She managed to snag one of the really good ones.

"Despite my initial reluctance I had a really good day." Molly said still sitting in the car with the engine off, "I don't go out much so today was a rare treat for me."

"Me too. But let's not do it far too often. My feet are hurting." Mary suggested making Molly giggle.

"You can always get John to give you a foot massage." She suggested.

"Yes I can. It's my right as his wife. And as a pregnant woman."

They laughed at Mary's words before Molly said her goodbyes and reached to open the car door only to remember something, a question Mary never answered, "So, how did you know where I live?"

Mary sighed, "You may thing otherwise but people do notice you Molly. People who care for you."

Molly merely nodded and exited the vehicle. She walked to the entrance door and fished out the key from her bag.

Once she was inside Mary started the car but before driving off dialed a number, let it ring once and disconnected. She needed to let him know Molly was on her way up.

As it was the Barts best pathologist was completely unaware of the plans and the secret signals and what was waiting for her in her flat.

It was dark when she entered which wasn't surprising but what was surprising was the smell that should be there. She could smell food; something baked that smelled delicious and flowers. Lots of flowers considering how strong their fragrant was.

It made her curious and a tiny bit suspicious. So she did the only thing that made sense at the moment. She reached for the switch and turned on the light.


The idea for the photo album with newspaper clips and photographs of the graffiti mentioned in this chapter came from my first Sherlock story I believe. I couldn't help but mention it here.

Huge thank you to all who read my story! You all rock!

(I'll stop typing now before I misspell another word, briefly you all ricked)