"I was present when Locky walked his first steps and said his first word," Matthew said, cutting Sherlock off. "They call me 'Dad' sometimes and you can't imagine how good it feels... how good it feels to be more wanted and more loved than you."

"This is madness."

"You'd better keep off the grass and sign those divorce papers. Because if that Moran bloke you keep talking about doesn't kill you soon, I'll do it myself."

"Sherlock, this fridge!" Mrs Hudson scowled his young tenant. "The milk has gone off. Is this juice?"

Sherlock wasn't even listening.

"You have nothing to eat!"

The detective continued working on his microscope. "I'm working."

Mrs Hudson opened the microwave and closed her eyes shut when she found two pairs of human eyeballs and toes. The cupboards were empty and there was nothing to eat.

"Not even tea!" the landlady turned to Sherlock. "When was the last time you ate?"

"Irrelevant."

"It is important, young man! You need to eat to be healthy."

The detective ignored her ranting. "Why would I want to be healthy?"

"For your children."

Sherlock's eyes fell on her and then he continued working. "I'm not going shopping. Supermarkets are boring."

Mrs Hudson sighed tiredly and started washing the plates, cups and Locky's bottle, things that had been left in the sink for days now, practically since the last day the boys had been there. She made a quick mental list of the things she needed to get for the detective and for his children in case they were going for the weekend.

"Is Locky still using his bottle?"

"Hmm."

"I'll bake a cake this weekend," the landlady said happily. "They are such lovely boys."

"They might not be here this weekend."

Mrs Hudson frowned. "Have you and Jane -"

"That's not your business."

The landlady said nothing. She went downstairs and minutes later Sherlock heard the front door closing.

"What happened to your eye? You had a fight?"

The doctor smiled to the boy. "No, just had an accident at the hospital, that's all."

"Cos when boys have a fight -"

"Hamish, Matthew didn't have a fight. He just fell. But he's OK now," Jane explained whilst tucking Hamish in bed.

Hamish's eyes focused on the band-aid Matthew had on his left eyebrow and on the bridge of his nose. "And why you got those?"

"I fell. Now, time to sleep."

Once the couple were in their bedroom, Jane helped the doctor cleaning his face and checked the purple marks all over his chest and arms. She massaged his chest, his back and his arms and legs very softly with a special cream and finally massaged his scalp and pressed soft kisses to his forehead and temples.

"Better?"

He nodded against her bare thighs and sighed tiredly. "I'm sorry for what happened today. I'm very sorry, baby."

"Don't be sorry. It wasn't your fault."

"Yes it was," the doctor said a a single tear rolled down his eyes. The migraine was killing him. "You didn't need to see that. I'm sorry about it."

"Matthew stop right there. It wasn't your fault," Jane said firmly. "Could have been your fault when you are the one hurt here?"

The doctor said nothing.

"For God's sake, he almost broke your nose!"

"But he didn't."

"He hit your head," Jane said bitterly. "You're here tonight, with me, but you know you could have ended up in surgery."

Matthew kissed her thigh. "I'm here."

"Then don't say you're sorry when you did nothing wrong."

"I said I'm sorry because that wasn't me. That wasn't me, Jane," Matthew said languidly. "I'm not that man. You know I don't -"

Jane pressed a kiss to his lips. "Hush."

They remained silent for long minutes. Eventually the doctor started to feel better and both lay next to each other on their bed. They were lying on their sides, facing each other when Matthew slid a hand under the covers to Jane's waist, pulling her close to him.

"We'll be married for Christmas," he whispered. "And Sophie will be ours. I can't wait to make you my wife."

"I already am, don't I? The new nurses think I'm your wife," Jane joked. "And all of them call me Mrs Morstan."

Matthew smiled lovingly. "But we need the papers to adopt Sophie together. And I want it to be legal and official. I want you to take my name and use a ring. I want everyone to see you're taken," the doctor said, his blue eyes were dark. "I want everyone to know you're mine."

"Matt, don't get angry... but those are papers, they are meaningless to us -"

"They might be meaningless to you," Matthew said with a frown. "Don't you understand they are vital to adopt our daughter?" he asked, almost indignantly. "Haven't you thought about that? About Sophie?"

Jane felt fear inside her. "No, that's not what I meant -"

"You still have his name," Matthew said lifting Jane's nightdress and moving his hands to her hips. "You're still his. And that makes me so mad, Jane."

"No," she moved his hands off her. "Matt... I'm here. I'm here," Jane smiled at him nervously. "I'm here with you."

He shook his head and moved until he was over her, between her thighs and pressed violent kisses to her mouth, almost biting her lip. "Then be here, with me," the doctor took her hand and moved it downwards his body, under the covers. Then he got rid of her panties and started to tease her entrance with her fingers.

"Matt, you're... you're hurting me."

"You don't want to be mine in the papers, you're going to be mine here in our bed."

Jane dug her nails into his back and pressed a hand to his biceps, tightly. "Matthew, please stop. You're hurting me," she whispered.

That's the moment when the doctor opened his eyes and met Jane's blue, scared eyes. "Darling..."

"It's OK... just do it slowly," she said with a tiny, reassuringly smile.

"No... Jane, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

She kissed his lips. "It's OK."

"No, don't say it's OK. It's not," Matthew said, moving off her and pressing kissed to her forehead. "God, forgive me. I... I don't know what happened to me... it's just," the doctor bit his lips. "He makes me so mad. I can't explain it."

"Hush. I'm here. We are here. Just you and me."

"He brings the worst out of me, Jane," Matthew whispered. "I swear I never meant to hurt you."

She only nodded and moved further close to him. "Well, it hurts a bit. But I..." Jane smiled. "I wasn't really complaining."

"You're my naughty little girl, aren't you?" Matthew smirked and kissed her passionately. "I wish I could make you feel good tonight."

Jane looked at the man above her with tender eyes and pressed a kiss to his lips. She caressed his arms, where the purple marks Sherlock had left were marking his pale skin and smiled fondly at him.

"You always make me feel good. But you're tired and you need to rest."

"I'm not that tired," he said, moving his hips forward, making their hips move together. "Am I?"

She closed her eyes. "Slow, Matt."

"Of course, baby," the doctor whispered to her ear and started undressing himself.

Mrs Hudson was not talking to him.

And Sherlock forgot why.

It was a cold morning when she went to his kitchen carrying what looked like two heavy shopping bags. She filled his cupboards with tea bags, sugar, coffee, beans, bread and cocoa, cereal, cookies and all sorts of things his children ate when they were at his flat. Then, she put milk and some meals already prepared that only needed to be put into the microwave for him.

"This should do for a week."

The detective noticed the bags under her eyes and she was pressing a tissue to her nose. She was ill.

"Mrs Turner and some friends are coming this afternoon so please, don't start shouting if you need something."

Ah yes.

"Mrs Hudson, the milk -"

"That's the brand the boys drink," the landlady said, predicting some complain coming from his tenant.

Sherlock cleared his throat. "I'm... sorry."

Mrs Hudson knew Sherlock rarely said sorry.

And if he had said 'sorry' to her, then he really meant it.

"I know that what happens between you and Jane is none of my business," Mrs Hudson said softly. "But you are very important to me. I know you since you were merely two seventeen year old teenagers living together and expecting a baby."

Sherlock showed no emotion whatsoever.

"Life not always give us what we want. Think you have two lovely children that will always keep you together. Not in the way you want, but together at least."

"Thank you."

Mrs Hudson patted his back. "Now try not to make dangerous experiments while my friends and I are knitting!"

"Did Mrs Hudson believe your story about you needing my signature for my son's nursery enrolment form?" Sherlock asked, turning to find Doctor Morstan standing on the doorway of the living room. "Or you also have her seduced by your fake charm?"

Matthew smiled sarcastically. "May I?"

"You won't go if I say no."

The doctor stepped in and sat opposite him, on what used to be Jane's chair. He crossed his legs and glared at him with a joy Sherlock's couldn't believe he had.

"And I thought I had broken your nose."

Matthew smiled. "You can see you didn't."

"What do you want? You're not here bringing my son's nursery enrolment forms for me to sign," Sherlock snapped. "You told her you were seeing your solicitor. And I thought that lying wasn't a good thing in a relationship."

"You are rather good," Matthew said and curled his lips upwards. "You can say all sorts of things by just looking? Incredible. Amazing. Brilliant - that's the word. You're brilliant, Sherlock."

Sherlock shifted on his chair.

This was not good.

"You can say I've lied to her... but I didn't. I did see my solicitor," the doctor opened his bag and pulled out a folder. "And I got this for you to sign. I know I could have sent them. The postal service is rather good in our country but," Matthew smiled. "I preferred to do it myself so you understand how this works."

Sherlock looked at the papers.

"Divorce papers again? I'm not -"

"You won't sign them?" Matthew asked, cutting Sherlock off. "Oh, Sherlock. Why you like to make things more difficult than they already are?"

The detective frowned.

The doctor smiled even widely. "What's wrong? Oh, don't tell the cat got your tongue. It's better if you don't talk because I got quite good things to tell you."

Sherlock remained silent.

"Divorce can be so stressful these days. But let's see the positive side of this: you sign these papers, Jane and I get married and voilà, we go on honeymoon and we'll let the boys stay with you for two weeks, what about that?" Matthew asked. "Do you see my point? You two divorce and neither suffers from stress. You got your children, and Jane and I go away to a nice warm place."

The detective frowned. "And if I don't sign them?"

"Well, last night Jane and I were discussing that. It was so funny how the topic arose," Matthew laughed. "We were making love when I told her about the honeymoon and you know what?"

Sherlock said nothing.

"She said she wants to go far away, to a warm place like a beach because she wants to make love in the shore," Matthew smiled. "You should have seen her the other night," Matthew said, enjoying the moment, enjoying Sherlock Holmes was listening. "Her face... she's so beautiful when she comes, when she climax... when we reach that moment when I fill her up with my come. And she's so perfect." The doctor ran a hand over his hair. "She prefers it when I fuck her slowly and hard until it hurts," Matthew said. "Especially when I let her ride my cock. Oh, she does like that and let's agree she's rather special. Every time we fuck it's like I'm deflowering a virgin... the way she feels and how she moans my name every time I possess her body. She's so tight. Did you feel that too?"

"Shut up."

Matthew smiled widely when he realised he was pushing Sherlock's buttons. "She's mine. There's no inch of skin I haven't touched or kissed. All her body, all of it is mine. I've possessed everything. Everything. And I rather love her mouth. She can take my cock so easily. She quite knows how to please a man, doesn't she? She's always eager to try new things," Matthew said. "My Jane is such a good girl in bed. When we first fucked she was so shy, so childlike. It was almost perverse but so exciting to fuck a young little thing like she was... And I taught her good things, don't you think?" The doctor looked at Sherlock expectantly. "Come on, say it. Admit you were rather surprised when you two fucked behind my back. It surprised you to see her doing things she never did before."

Sherlock said nothing. He was not going to admit such thing.

Not out loud.

Because Matthew was right. Sherlock had been surprised to see Jane doing things she never did before. She wasn't that shy, little woman she had been before. She was now a woman who knew what and how she wanted it and Sherlock never complained, not like he wanted to - but Doctor Morstan was right.

Sherlock knew he had possessed everything Jane had.

And that, up to some moment, only belonged to him, to Sherlock.

This was perverse.

"The young little thing grew up and now she's a woman," Matthew continued. "She knows what I like. She knows where and how to touch me," Matthew smiled darkly. "And we fit together so well. It's like my cock was made for her always so tight pussy."

The detective felt the anger growing inside him.

"Do you know what else I love, besides her pure body, how delicious she tastes, the way she feels every time I fill her up with my cock and how good she makes me feel when she touches me, when she takes me with her mouth and doesn't let me go until I come?" the doctor laughed.

"Don't -"

"I love the way your children prefer me to you. Isn't it funny? Not only their mother prefers me to you, but they do as well."

Sherlock clenched his teeth. "Don't you dare -"

"I was present when Locky walked his first steps and said his first word," Matthew said, cutting Sherlock off. "They call me 'Dad' sometimes and you can't imagine how good it feels... how good it feels to be more wanted and more loved than you."

"This is madness."

"You'd better keep off the grass and sign those divorce papers. Because if that Moran bloke you keep talking about doesn't kill you soon, I'll do it myself."

"You won't do it," Sherlock said calmly.

Matthew smiled sarcastically. "Really? What makes you think so?"

"You're not clever."

"Am I not? You bloody well know that's not true, Sherlock. If I hadn't had the brains," Matthew said smoothly. "Jane wouldn't be by my side."

Sherlock frowned. "Why lying to her? A brain tumour doesn't make any difference. She would still prefer you, with our without any illness."

"And you told her about it."

"Naturally."

Matthew smiled darkly. "And she didn't believe you."

Sherlock said nothing.

"It's you against me," the doctor said, standing up. "Don't underestimate a man in love because I'm capable of doing anything for Jane."

"Like drugging her to have sex?" Sherlock asked sarcastically. "Please. I could have done the same without it."

"Could you?" Matthew laughed. "Could you have made her come countless times like I did? I fucked her so hard until she fell unconscious and I dig my fingers on her hipbones and I left marks," the doctor said perversely. "I can make her go wet by only using my voice, can you do that?" The doctor's eyes darkened. "Don't forget she was carrying my child. How does that feel?"

Sherlock's hands curled into fists. "Was. She might have carried your child, but she gave me two. And that's what infuriates you," the detective stood just inches apart from the doctor. "knowing she gave me two and she can't give you any."

But Matthew, far from being angry as Sherlock expected, only smiled. "One. She gave you one, remember? Because Hamish isn't your child. And that's what infuriates you," Matthew licked his lips. "It infuriates you to see him growing and looking nothing like you. But well, why would he look like you if you're not his biological father?"

Sherlock stared blankly at him.

"Sam Sawyer, the cocaine, you pushing her down the stairs... Jane told me everything. You think that telling her how much you love her and that you can't live without her will make Jane change her mind about you? This is the basest sentimentality. This is a child at prayer... you're pathetic!" Matthew hissed angrily. "You pretend to have changed and to own something that makes up for the horrors you did to her. But they are a part of you, and they will never go away." the doctor smiled darkly. "And if you ever go back together, which I doubt, you will always remember that. Because every time she looks at the scars you left on her body she cries. Every time Hamish struggles to understand something she curses your name."

The detective narrowed his grey icy eyes. "She might be yours, but every time she looks at our children she thinks of me. She is still my wife and she loves me. You know it."

"You can't read me."

"What?"

"You heard me clearly," Matthew answered. "You've been looking at me since I set foot in this place and you can't find anything. Don't panic, brat."

Sherlock clenched his teeth. "I don't need to use my skills on you to know who you are."

"Who am I then?"

"A monster."

"You brought this monster," the doctor replied. "Stay away from her because I swear I'll kill you."

The detective watched the doctor leaving and then glanced at the papers. Everything was in order, everything was legal. There was even a sheet of paper with Jane's signature in which she resigned all her rights over the properties she owned since she got married to him. She was not asking for more money than for the children's school fees and nothing else. There were more papers in which was stipulated Locky and Hamish were to live with her and spend the weekends at their father's.

This was for real then.

Jane wanted the divorce.

Another crime scene. Another body. Three walls painted with animal blood and a message left for him on the wall.

GET SHERLOCK

The woman lying dead on the floor had been asphyxiated to death. Around her neck, a half knitting scarf.

"Nothing was taken," Greg said whilst Sherlock knelt next to the dead old lady and examined her body. "The granddaughter found her."

There were no fingerprints, not a single hair, nor a footprint. The lock had not been picked. The victim let her killer in.

And there was a familiar smell on the air.

"Are you done, freak?" Anderson asked impatiently. "We need to take her -"

"Ah, Anderson. Still cheating on the wife?"

The forensic specialist turned to Greg. "You didn't need to call him."

"Anderson -"

"He's contaminating the crime scene!"

Sherlock sniffed the old lady's wrist.

Racy.

Familiar.

Sherlock remembered his little blog on the identification of perfumes.

Kasbah Nights.

Mrs Hudson.

A police officer ran into the crime scene. "Detective Inspector, there's been an explosion at -"

"Baker Street," Sherlock finished the sentence.

His phone went off.

Gas leak at 221 A Baker Street - MH

It felt like three years ago. Sherlock got into Greg's car and both and several police officers went to Baker Street.

The vestibule was a mess. Sherlock ran inside his landlady's flat and found it completely destroyed. The framed pictures were on the floor. The yarn balls Mrs Hudson kept on a special basket close to her chair were nothing but burned.

Sherlock found Mrs Hudson's lifeless body.

His phone went off.

She should have been more careful - SM