It was a Saturday evening, and the Holmes family was preparing for dinner (coincidentally to be at the same restaurant that Sherlock revealed himself to John at). They got dressed up and, with Molly sitting in the back between Matthew and Brooklyn and Sherlock driving, off they went.
They sat at their table and ordered drinks. Molly sat across from Sherlock. "Enjoying yourself?" he asked her. Molly nodded with a smile. "It isn't everyday I get to have fun with my family in a place like this," she said.
At that moment, Matthew elbowed a plate that fell off the table, hitting the ground with a loud crack. It shattered, and Brooklyn, scared by the noise, burst into tears. "And this is why," Sherlock responded to Molly's words.
A waiter ran to where the family sat and started to clean up the mess. Another waiter came up with their drinks. Molly looked longingly at Sherlock's champagne. "It isn't good for your current condition," he told his wife. Molly looked at the children, now playing patty-cake over the candle, and said, "If and when they light this tablecloth on fire, I'm not going to be doing anything about it." With a sigh, Sherlock put his drink down.
A few seconds later Molly had another reason to want an alcoholic beverage - a clumsy waiter carrying a tray walked by her and stepped on her foot, causing her to lurch forward and spill her drink all over the floor.
"I'm so sorry, Mrs. Holmes," said the waiter, frantically trying to clean it up. Molly looked up at him and stared. The waiter, unaware, continued. "I'll go get you another drink," he said and rushed away. "Sherlock," Molly said to her husband. "Did you see that waiter?"
"Did I see him spill your drink?" asked Sherlock. "Yes." "No, that isn't what I meant. His face - he looked familiar." Sherlock looked up from his menu. "No, I didn't," he said, looking towards the kitchen which the waiter had disappeared into.
"Daddy?" said Matthew, tugging on Sherlock's coat sleeve. "I have to go to the bafwoom." Sherlock rose and took his son's hand. "We'll be back in a minute," he said to his wife and daughter, and together he and Matthew walked off.
Brooklyn was looking underneath the table and giggling, and after a moment Molly glanced under, as well. "Mary Brooklyn Holmes!" she said, her voice filled with surprise. Brooklyn's head shot up, and guilt covered her face. "Where did you get Daddy's phone?" her mother demanded.
Brooklyn shrugged. "From his pocket. He wasn't looking," she said. Molly stared at her for a moment and then erupted into laughter. A few diners nearby looked at them, but that didn't stop her from laughing.
A moment later, she felt a tap on her shoulder. "Here's your drink," said the waiter. Molly accepted it and looked into his eyes. She stopped. "Do I know you?" she asked the waiter. He smiled at her. "Drink up," he said encouragingly. She looked at her drink and, when she looked back up, the waiter had disappeared.
Sherlock came back, and the happy family finished the rest of their dinner in peace.
Author's Note:
Sorry if this chapter isn't very clear - I needed it to be that way to explain the events of the next few chapters. Just a few things really quickly - I started a new story for anyone who's interested. It's called Three Halves, it's about the third Holmes child. No more information out of me! Also, feel free to follow my Instagram page! I post (squee) spoilers there! The name is Rusty_Tater_Tot.
And to Artemis-hunt-goddess: Don't worry, my faithful reader! Your wish will come true in the next few chapters! Of course, you're going to hate my guts after those chapters, but you'll have received your wish (the one for more Moriarty).
Please don't hate me after the next chapter! I'm doing what needs to be done!
