Thank you so much for the SAMFA nomination. I'm really chuffed to be in the running for best humour (as well as best mystery for "Her Alibi". The latter story is finished but Oneupmanship isn't, so as a special thank you to those who voted: here's a new chapter. There's a second party of this particular interlude to come as well.

Neither Molly nor Sherlock had forgotten a brief conversation about possibly moving in together but the subject had not been broached since the train back from Chester. Sherlock thought the best option was for Molly to move in with them in Baker St.

"John?"

"Hmm?" John was distracted by a morning newspaper.

"How would you feel about Molly moving in with us?"

John threw his newspaper down on the table as he raised an incredulous eyebrow at this flatmate.

"Could you just say that again?"

"I want Molly to move in with us."

"I don't know, Sherlock…"

"But you like Molly!" he said indignantly.

"Of course I do, but I don't necessarily want to live with a couple."

"What if I promised we would never have relations in front of you?"

"Well, I had hoped such a promise was a given in general but…Sherlock, have you asked Molly if she wants to live with her boyfriend and his…."

John finished his sentence with "live-in significant other" as Sherlock tried "assistant".

The two men smiled at each other.

"Sherlock, I don't think it's a good idea. A couple living with one other person is always a recipe for disaster. And I don't really want to move either. Things are going great with Mary but it's way too soon for us to be considering moving in together."

"Molly and I have only been together a short time."

"True, but you had all those years of fawning around pretending you were above feelings…"

"I did, didn't I?"

Sherlock jumped up suddenly.

"I have an idea."

"Spit it out."

But he had already left the room and could be heard pounding down the stairs.

"Mrs Hudson?"

John shook his head and went back to his newspaper. No doubt he'd find out soon enough.

After a short successful conversation with Mrs Hudson, Sherlock steeled himself for an unpleasant one. He dialled his brother's number.

"Mycroft. I need to access some of the trust fund."

"Well, hello to you too, brother. How's the little woman?"

"Don't you dare call her that! And stop being so friendly."

"You called me," said Mycroft dryly.

"How do I access the trust fund?"

"Really, how do you not know this? You are 34 years old and have never had a proper job. You must have accessed it before."

"Certainly I have, but I deleted it."

Mycroft let out a very put-upon sigh.

"You make an appointment with your private banker in Coutts, Miss Blackstone."

"Do I? Can't you do it for me?"

"You are the definition of a man-child. I will email you her contact details."

"Ok."

"What do you want it for?"

"Building renovations."

Sherlock duly met with Miss Blackstone, who seemed not to have a first name, and arranged for a funds transfer. She tried to interest him in internet banking but Sherlock waved her away. Why would he do that when he could have someone else do it for him?!

At 5pm, Sherlock Holmes found himself passing for ordinary, as he purchased flowers and Molly's favourite macaroons. When she came home for work, he was waiting for her in her apartment. The flowers – daisies – were arranged in a vase on her coffee table.

Molly greeted him with a hug.

"This is a nice surprise. And flowers too. Wait, what did you do?"

"I didn't do anything!"

"Well, what are you going to do that requires flattery?"

Sherlock affected a hurt look.

"I was hoping you'd agree to it straight off."

"Well, would you like to ask before you deduce my answer?"

"Seems somewhat redundant but alright."

He directed Molly to sit down on the couch beside him and took her hand.

"Sherlock, what are you doing?"

"If you would just shut up, you'd know already!"

"This is not the way to agreement – remember we had that talk about give and take?"

He took a deep breath.

"It's all very simple, and everyone has agreed, except you. I've arranged the building works myself."

"Still waiting for the question, love…" said Molly with a frustrated smile.

"You remember we had the conversation about moving in together?"

"I do."

"Well, I thought you could move in with me."

Molly pursed her lips, holding back a smile.

"What about John?"

"Yes, he wasn't terribly pleased about living with a couple."

"You want me to live with you AND John?!"

"Naturally."

"That's crazy."

"It's not, but I admit John's reaction was similar. That's what the building renovations are for."

"Sherlock, I've been at work for 10 hours, I've had no dinner and I don't have time to translate your shorthand. Please spell it out for me."

"Oh, right, sorry. I talked to Mrs Hudson and agreed to pay for the renovations to make 221C habitable – it has rising damp. Work starts tomorrow and should be ready within a month. John will move down to 221C and you will move upstairs with me."

"What does John say about this idea?"

"He doesn't know yet," admitted Sherlock. "But I'm sure it'll be fine. So that's everything settled. You'll give notice to your landlord tomorrow."

"Sherlock, you haven't actually asked me. You've just told me."

"But isn't that what we both want? To live together?"

"Yes, but it would be nice to be consulted. And you're so good at consulting," she teased.

"You don't want me to get my knees or anything?" he asked suspiciously.

"No. A straightforward "Molly, will you please come and live with me?" will do fine."

"I think I can do better than that." He cleared his throat.

"Molly, I find it tedious to travel across the city when I want to sleep. Most people are lucky to find one person in life who would willingly live with them and I have been very lucky to find two. I forced you into short-term living with me once before and it changed me forever. Please come and live with me permanently."

He looked at her expectantly.

"I'll think about it," she said coolly. Molly stood up and moved towards the kitchen.

"Oh harsh, Dr Hooper," he said jokingly, but not quite covering up his disappointment.

She looked over her shoulder. It was naughty of her.

"Sherlock, you idiot. Of course I will move in with you and John and Mrs Hudson. Ooof!" she added, nearly falling over, as a Sherlock latched on to her.

"Would it kill you to say that you loved me though?"

"Admitting I had friends caused me to fake my own death, what do you think?" he smirked.

"I suppose that'll have to do."

"I do have one additional piece of information though."

"What's that?"

"The builders are going to enlarge our bathroom so we can have a bigger bath."

"Oh, Sherlock. You should have lead with that information…"