Chapter 10 - The End of One Story is the Start of Another

The house was quiet when John got in, and he hoped it was because Nat was actually sleeping for once. He didn't call out just in case, and made his way stealthily upstairs to the nursery. As he suspected the light was out, the cd of lullabies Sherlock had recorded for them on his violin was playing on low volume, and he could just make out from the doorway his daughters little chest rising and falling. Smiling to himself he backed quietly out of the room, closing the door behind him, and carried on down the hall to his and Mary's room. The door was slightly open, and he slipped in to see Mary with his back to him, shoving what he called her 'assassin kit' in the back of the wardrobe. It was very rare he could take her by surprise in anything, so he took delight in sneaking up behind her and wrapping his arms around her waist.

"Hello sweetheart."

Next thing he knew he slammed into the wall, all of Mary's weight pinning him there and her arm over his windpipe for just a second, before recognition sunk in.

"John! For goodness sake, what were you thinking sneaking up on an ex-assassin! I could have hurt you." She fretted, brushing down his wrinkled top.

"I could have stopped you." He grinned back, capturing her arms and leaning in for a peck on the lips. "What's all this anyway, I didn't see you at the warehouse." He nodded to her gear, still part hanging out of the wardrobe.

"No, it was just... in case I didn't hear from you within an hour of you going in, in case you needed back up." She explained, attempting a nonchalant shrug, though she couldn't completely hide her worry, the little wrinkle in her forehead that appeared whenever her old career came up. "Then when you called with the all clear Natasha was kicking up a stink because she was overtired and I've only just got her down to sleep, so I could come and put this away."

"Very thoughtful of you." He kissed her forehead, trying to assure her that it was all fine. "I hope we haven't woken her again, crashing about."

"She'd already be screaming the house down if we had. So..." She grinned, dropping back onto the bed and pulling her knees up to her chest "Come on then, how'd it go? Did you get to use that gun of yours?"

"I did actually." He moved around the bed, pulling the gun out of his waistband and carefully locking it away in a safe box in his bedside cabinet. "Shot a gun out of Oberstein's hand. Very satisfying, he'll probably need surgery to repair the tendon damage in his wrist. Five of the others are sleeping off the heavy sedative in those tranq guns Mycroft and Sherlock had, and the last, the one who was giving Molly so much grief, is in intensive care. He'll live, but might suffer some brain damage. Asphyxiation."

"Sherlock did that?"

"No, actually. I think he'd probably be a lot worse if Sherlock got to him, after what he did to the American who hurt Mrs. Hudson and Magnussen for threatening us." He reminded her, sitting down beside her and reaching down to take off his shoes and socks "This was Molly's work. He was supposed to rape her on video for Sherlock to watch, instead she handed his arse to him and garrotted him with her handcuffs."

"What, Molly? Little Molly from Bart's? Since when has she been capable of... that." Mary looked gobsmacked.

"Well apparently, during his two year absence he spent some time at her flat, teaching her to fight. Y'know, rolling around on her carpet, getting sweaty..." He raised a suggestive eyebrow at her, grinning like a schoolboy.

Mary laughed and swatted him on the arm. "I don't think it's like that."

"Oh it's definitely like that!" John asserted, "I thought he was acting a bit differently to her since his return, but then there was Tom. Now there's not, and you should have seen him on this case, Mary. Was more worried about her than his own mother, and when she was in danger... Well. He's got it bad."

"Oh he's definitely in love with her," Mary agreed, "I just don't think he's owned up to yet. I bet he was a merciless instructor when he was teaching her to fight."

"You're probably right. But whether he owns up to it or not, the cat's well and truly out of the bag now, Molly'd have to be deaf and blind not to notice how he was acting today. And if she thinks she's got a chance, then Sherlock will really have a fight on his hands."

It was all a bit of a blur to Molly, what had happened after she had let go of that man and clung to Sherlock instead. She remembered being taken outside, sat in the back of an ambulance, and when the EMT had asked her if she needed a physical examination, she hadn't understood what he meant at first - wasn't he already examining her bleeding wrists and other injuries? - and then when she'd realised he meant for rape she'd burst into tears, and Sherlock had rushed over, berating the young man for some time.

At some point Greg had come over, and she went to give him her statement, but he'd just hugged her instead. Someone else came and took her statement, and Greg had held her hand through it. At least, he had been holding her hand to start with, and somewhere along the line Sherlock had appeared again and taken over.

Now she was in Baker Street, in John's chair, a blanket around her shoulders and a mug of cooling tea in her hand that she seemed to remember a tearful Mrs Hudson putting there. Violin music floated over from the window, where Sherlock stood, staring out into the darkness as if standing guard. He glanced over at her and seemed to double take at her looking back at him, turning around and watching her with his sharp verdigris eyes, the similarity to his Mother's startling.

"Your mum!" She blurted, realising she hadn't seen her, or didn't think she'd seen her in the chaos surrounding their rescue.

Sherlock stopped playing. "Mycroft is escorting her home to Surrey. She's perfectly alright."

"Oh, good." Molly sighed in relief. "It was nice getting to know her. I mean... Not nice under the circumstances, but still, she's - "

"Quite ordinary, I know." Sherlock interrupted, turning his back on her again as he put his violin back in its case.

"Actually I was going to say amazing. She was so calm, it was like nothing phased her."

"Mm... Probably because she didn't understand what was going on." Sherlock shrugged.

"No she understood. She even said..." Molly hesitated. It was a conversation she both feared and needed to have. "She thought that... Sherlock, why did they take me?" She changed tactic at the end.

"Because Oberstein's vendetta against my family started when I solved a case that sent his daughter to prison. I understand his wife left him some time ago, she was all he had left. He blames me for separating him from the one woman he cares for, so wanted to get his revenge by hurting and then probably killing a woman I care about. And one Mycroft does, hence Mummy being there." Sherlock explained, taking his own seat opposite her and watching carefully for her reaction to the news.

Molly's heart leapt at his admission that he cared about her, but then that was not new information to her. She'd seen evidence for herself that he cared about her in his own way, but caring about was not the same thing as loving, and that's what she needed to know. She couldn't stop now.

"Yes, but...Your Mum said... She thinks it was because you love me. And not just as in friends, but as in in love with me... Is she right?"

Sherlock said nothing, though his jaw clenched and unclenched. He suddenly became very interested in the cup of (probably cold and days old) tea sat next to him.

"Sherlock?" Molly promoted

"Yes."

Molly drew in a sharp breath, then her brow creased.

"Wait, was that yes as in yes or-"

"Yes." Sherlock stated again firmly, though he didn't look as happy about it as she would have hoped. That didn't stop the joy bubbling up inside Molly though, her eyes immediately getting watery and a massive grin breaking out on her face. She started to get up, opening her mouth to say something in return, but Sherlock cut her off before she could.

"But this changes nothing."

"What do you mean, 'this changes nothing'? She asked shaking her head, though it couldn't remove her manic grin "This changes everything! All this time I've been in love with you, thinking you'd never return it, and now you do -"

"It changes nothing." Sherlock repeated firmly, his face now decidedly sour looking. "Have you already forgotten what just happened to you? Today is further proof in a long list that caring about people is a mistake for someone like me. Moriarty, Magnussen, Oberstein... I make plenty of enemies in my line of work and there will always be those who try to get to me through those I care about. Just being around me is enough to put a target on your back, but to be with me would be suicide, Molly, and you can't possibly be that desperate, I know at least two of your male colleagues are interested in you."

Molly shook her head in denial, the joy in her smothered by his words and her tears were no longer of happiness. "No... No I don't want them. I want you! You can't do this to me, you can't tell me you love me then tell me we can't be together! It's not...!"

"Then you shouldn't have asked. This is for your own good, Molly."

"No! I won't accept that!" She was on her feet now, feeling like she was going to burst from all the emotion inside her. She wanted to shake him, to make him see, but kept her hands clenched at her sides instead. "If today has proved anything it's that I can take care of myself! If you want to protect me do it by teaching me more self defence while you're with me-"

"It won't be enough!" Sherlock roared back at her, on his feet now too, bringing them almost chest to chest, or rather chest to face as he loomed over her. "There's only so much those lessons can do for someone of your stature, especially against trained killers! And unless you're within inches of your opponent it'll do you no good against someone who's armed."

Molly needed only a second to consider this. "Then I need to be armed. You could get me a gun, and teach me to use it? I only need to know how to shoot and aim, I already know where to aim."

"And you think you could do that? Shoot? To kill? Last time I taught you the idea of breaking someone's arm was enough to give you pause." Sherlock reminded her. "What makes you think you could pull the trigger on someone?"

"Today makes me think it." Molly's eyes dropped to their shoes, almost toe to toe on the carpet, not able to look at someone for the coming confession "When I... When you came in and stopped me, I knew how close I was to killing that guy, I could almost count down the seconds he had left, each one diminishing his chances of recovery. If you hadn't come in, I wouldn't have let go. I would have killed him and it didn't scare me at all. I mean, I was scared, scared that if I let go he'd wake up, or scared the others would come in to finish what he started, but I wasn't afraid of killing him. Of the fact I might soon have been holding a corpse. I've dealt with plenty in the morgue, what's one more? And... And most the ones in my morgue don't deserve it. I've autopsied children, Sherlock, and it always hurts, how innocent they are. But this guy... He raped and killed that girl who was on my table a few days ago. He would have done it to me. I... I guess what I'm trying to say is he was a bad man, and I would have killed him and it would have been easy. And I could do it again if I had to."

She looked back up at Sherlock to gauge his reaction, slightly afraid of how psychopathic that might have sounded. She gasped at the look at Sherlock's face, all the walls that she'd only got a glimpse over before were gone, his emotions writ bare on his face. Pain and sorrow, warring with wonder and love. His hands seemed to be itching to reach for her, yet he didn't allow himself to, shaking his head and closing his eyes, as if trying to regain control.

"Killing is the easy part, it's sleeping afterwards that's hard." He looked back to her, finally letting his hands come up to her shoulders. "I don't want that for you."

Molly's reply was to close the distance between them, hugging him tightly around the waist. His arms slid tighter around her in response, one large hand cradling her head to his chest.

"This is all conjecture anyway. It might not even be necessary." She whispered, afraid speaking any louder would break the spell. "You'll protect me, I know you will. I believe in Sherlock Holmes."

For once, Sherlock had nothing to say to that, he just held her, knowing she'd won; he wasn't sure he could ever let her go now.

"Mummy, you've just come back from being abducted and being right in the middle of an admittedly short firefight. Why are you cooking? Surely this qualifies you for a night off, get a takeaway or something." Mycroft protested from the doorway of his parents' cosy little cottage.

"They don't deliver all the way out here, and someone has to feed your father. Besides, you should have seen what passed for a meal in that horrible place, I'm famished!" His mother reasoned, bustling happily about the kitchen, pulling out pots and pans.

"I'm certain I could make them. Or I could have someone pick something up -"

"Nonsense, I'm already cooking, now. Sit down Mikey, you're making the place look untidy." She pulled out a chair for him on the way to the fridge, and Mycroft dropped down into with an exasperated sigh and eye roll.

"If it makes her happy, I say let her get on with it." His Father leaned over to whisper, smiling at his wife's antics "You'd understand if you had a woman of your own."

"Yes Mikey, about that." His Mother was quick to jump in, her sharp ears missing nothing her husband said. "As flattering as it is to know I'm still loved by my eldest, I do wish you'd find yourself someone to settle down with, you're not getting any younger you know. If it's possible for Sherlock it's possible for you too."

"As I've told you repeatedly, Iam married to my work, Mother, It's a 24 hour job and requires my full attention."

"Yes, but Mikey dear-"

"We just worry that she'll be an unfaithful mistress to you." His Father said, fixing a kindly stare on his son.

"Exactly." His Mother continued "You think I didn't recognise that man who had a gun to my head? He was a politician - someone of importance -once, like you, and now look at him."

"Your career can't last forever, Mycroft. And when it's all over, we worry that you won't know what to do with yourself. Someone to go home to might make the transition easier."

If arguing with Mummy was infuriating, with her persistence and Father's reasonableness, getting tag-teamed by the pair of them was an excersise in futility.

"Even if I was inclined to start looking for a woman now, where do you propose I begin? My job doesn't allow me much time to frequent cafes or pubs" he said the word with as much distaste as he could muster "even if I was inclined to."

"Oh I don't think you'll have to look that far." Father said with an amused glint in his eye, looking over Mycroft's shoulder at the door way. Mycroft followed his gaze to see his faithful assistant standing there waiting for him. If she had heard their conversation and his father's implication, her face held no sign of it.

"The perimeter sweep has been completed, sir, as have the security upgrades. Shall I call for your car?"

Before Mycroft could open his mouth to gratefully accept, his Mother's head shot up from the stove.

"Of course not, he's staying for dinner, aren't you Mikey? I'm making your favourite - toad in the hole, with caramelised onion and cider gravy. Oh but you're welcome to join us... I don't believe I ever caught your name?"

"Alice." She answered, causing Mycroft's eyebrows to shoot up at her giving her real name to anyone. "And I'd love to."

Fighting a cringe, Mycroft got to his feet, pulling out the remaining chair for Alice to sit down.

"I apologise in advance for this embarrassment, and I promise I shall make it up to you." He muttered as he pushed the chair in after her.

"How about dinner? In a proper restaurant, next Friday. I'll clear your calendar."

All Mycroft could do was blink in amazement, as his parents beamed.

AN: For some reason though I'm getting emails alerting me to reviews, they aren't showing up here, and it's not letting me reply to them. So Thanks to nowsusieq and hatondog for your reviews :) and thanks very much to everyone favouriting and following, there does seem to be a lot of you now, and it makes me very happy to see.

Just the epilogue to go now, but it's been wonderful sharing this with you guys, and I might just be pursuaded to post a little sequel story.