A/N: Hi kids! I'm back with more Sandwiches! It's a little short, but I hope you enjoy!

Disclaimer: I own nothing except Gabriel.

"This is horrible. Why are we still here?" Sherlock grumbled, pushing the offending wine glass away.

"Can I have it?" Gabriel asked.

"Yes," Sherlock replied.

"No!" Molly countered, moving the glass out of reach. Gabriel sighed and flopped backward in his chair. He was exceptionally bored with all the wedding junk. One look at his father and he could tell he was feeling exactly the same. Doctor Molly chattered away at the vicar, who had miraculously found his way over to their table. Gabriel was monitoring this situation carefully, as he did not like other people touching and being so familiar with Doctor Molly.

"Dad, when can we go?" Gabriel whispered, jerking at Sherlock's sleeve.

"Soon, I hope," he sighed, looking at his watch.

"What time is it?"

Sherlock turned his arm over and let Gabriel look at the watch for himself. He smiled, listening to the little boy count by fives around the face of the clock. "We've been here forever," Gabriel said with a yawn.

"It certainly feels like it." He pushed his chair back a little and beckoned the child over. Gabe climbed eagerly into his father's lap and leaned on his shoulder. "Maybe we can use your sleepiness to get out of here quicker."

"I'm not sleepy," he said through another yawn.

"Oh really? I suppose you're just trying to get more oxygen to your feet, then?"

"Yes."

The two sat there for a long time paying just enough attention to the conversation to nod in the right places. Several dusty old ladies came over and oohed and ahhed over Gabriel:

"Awww… the poor thing is sleepy."

"Look at that head full of hair! You should have been born a little girl!"

"He's so quiet! I'd never have known he was here!"

He didn't mind much and tried to smile politely unless they tried to touch him. Like Sherlock, Gabriel didn't like being touched by strangers. Molly had finally left them at the table in favor of going to speak to some old uni friends. She'd tried to get her male companions to come along, but they refused, opting instead to stew in the juices of boredom until she finally relented and said they could go.

"Dad, I'm hungry. The food sucked."

"Gabe! Don't use that expression," Sherlock sighed. "But yes it did."

"Can we get dinner when we leave here?"

"Probably."

"We should tell Doctor Molly that we're leaving now," Gabriel said, fiddling with the tack on Sherlock's tie.

"Gabe, that would be rude," Sherlock replied, more to remind himself than the child. "Perhaps we can play a game."

"A game?"

"Yeah. Let's play Deductions."

Gabriel looked puzzled. "What's that?"

"It's a game that your Uncle Mycroft and I made up when we were children. You pick a person or an object and you make as many deductions as you can based on your observations. When you get stuck, it goes to me and I do the same. We keep going until one of us is stumped."

Gabriel seemed to think this over. "What kind of object?"

"Well… anything. Something ordinary." Sherlock nodded. "Like that napkin over there."

"A napkin? Really?"

"Of course. Something ordinary that people will overlook. That's a detective's meat and drink. A murderer will slip up because he neglects one little ordinary detail that everyone will overlook. If the police didn't have me, they'd never catch them because they overlook the ordinary. Do you see?"

"I think so," Gabriel replied, obviously not really seeing at all.

Sherlock looked around, finally reaching across the table and grabbing someone's discarded corsage. "This is perfect. I'll start." He turned the tiny bouquet of orchids and rosebuds over in his hand, looking closely at the petals of the blossoms. "First, and most obvious, is that the owner of this is a woman. The flowers are pink and there's a wristband on the back. Men don't wear flowers around their wrist. They also, generally, don't have wrists small enough to fit inside this loop." He handed Gabriel the corsage.

"Uhm… I don't know what to look for," Gabriel said, looking back over his shoulder at his father.

"You aren't looking for anything in particular. Just tell me what you see."

"Uhm… well… the flowers look kind of… I dunno… sad?"

"Exactly. They're wilted. What does that tell you?"

"Well I don't know," Gabe sighed.

"Yes you do. If something wilts, what does that mean?"

Gabriel gave a shrug. "It gets too hot."

"Right. So the person holding this corsage was standing someplace hot for a rather long time. Where could that be?"

"Outside?"

"Exactly. The person who was wearing this corsage was standing outside for quite some time. So the person probably isn't a member of the wedding party, as the bridesmaids and groomsmen were inside for most of the day. They only came out for a very short time for pictures. Even the receiving line was in the foyer of this place—"

"Because it was so hot outside!"

"Right." Sherlock smiled. "Go on, then."

"So they waited outside for a long time. And look, Dad!" Gabriel's eyes were wide with excitement as he started to enjoy himself. "This stem doesn't have any blooms on it. And this one only has two little petals. And this one too!" Gabriel pointed out the flowerless stems to his father, one by one. "It looks like somebody was pulling the petals off of this flower!" He gasped and pointed across the table so vigorously that he knocked over an empty water glass, drawing the attention of others.

"Watch out, Gabe," Sherlock chuckled.

"Look, Dad! I was right! There's flower petals all over the table right there where you got the corsage! Somebody pulled all the petals off!"

"You're right. They did. The question is, why did they do that?"

Gabriel scrunched up his nose, thinking very hard. "Katie plays this game sometimes where she does this 'he loves me, he loves me not' thing and pulls off the flower petals. Maybe the person with the corsage was doing that. Trying to figure out if some guy liked her."

Sherlock started to respond when there was a flutter of commotion at the front of the room. Molly's friend, Simone, was crying unintelligibly. Her bridesmaids were crowding around her, attempting to comfort the unhappy bride. Sherlock listened carefully, but couldn't manage to make out what was being said. Simone finally rose from her chair at the head table. "He's killed him. I know he has!" she wailed before allowing herself to be ushered from the room in a flurry of pink satin.

"What's going on, Dad?" Gabriel asked.

"I'm not sure," Sherlock replied, shifting to let Gabriel down from his lap. "Come on." The attendants had already risen from their seats and began milling around. Gabriel held his father's hand tightly, afraid that they would be separated. Sherlock must have sensed his apprehension because he finally reached down and hoisted the child up on his hip as he ducked through the crowd looking for Molly.

"Sherlock!" Molly called out for him, waving her arm to beckon him over.

"What's going on?"

"Oh it's terrible. Harry Doran, the groom. He's missing!"

Sherlock snickered. "How do you lose a grown man?"

"I don't know, Sherlock. But Simone was starting to get worried because she hadn't seen him since just after the ceremony. Finally, she sent his best man down to look for him and he's nowhere to be found! They've searched every inch of the estate and he's just… vanished! Into thin air!" Molly took Gabriel from Sherlock and cradled him tightly against her side. "They're calling the police right now, but…"

"Mr. Holmes!" Sherlock turned to see Mrs. Roberts, the mother of the bride, standing at his elbow. She tugged on his sleeve insistently. "Please, Mr. Holmes! You must help us. Mr. Doran is missing and we need your help. Will you come?"

OoOoOo

"Why couldn't we wait for Dad to have dinner?" Gabriel sighed, tromping through the grass in the courtyard.

"I'm not sure how long he's going to be, Gabe," Molly replied. "Besides, I was hungry. He'll get something when he's done." The little boy looked tired and apprehensive. It was just after sunset and starting to get dark. He'd been very tense since they arrived in Manchester and the absence of Sherlock as night began to come on was only adding to the anxiety. Molly had to keep him busy or he was going to have a meltdown. "Want to go see the horses?"

"Not really. Dad says we can go ride them tomorrow."

"Oh. That'll be fun."

"But just walking is nice," Gabriel said, smiling up at Molly and taking her hand. They continued across the courtyard and down to the stream beyond the garden. It was cooler here, the canopy of trees overhead seeming to shield them from the outside world. The stream babbled quickly through the gorge, flowing over rock and tiny waterfalls. It was a soothing sound. Gabriel bent down and tossed rocks into it, skimming them across the surface. "I fell in this stream once," he said.

"Oh yeah?"

"Yep. It runs all the way down to St. Christopher's. I was playing one afternoon and fell in. I almost drowned."

"That's terrible!" Molly gasped.

"It's okay. I got really sick after because the water was so cold. I was scared to take a bath for the longest time."

She giggled. "I think I remember something about that."

"I got to go live with my dad right after that." Molly nodded. He didn't say anymore, but she could tell that the little boy was preoccupied with his memories. But for now, at least, he wasn't upset by them.

"Aye! Take care how you walk on that bank, boy!" Molly and Gabriel looked up to see a large man coming toward them. He was old and moved slowly. His expression might seem angry to some, but the man's eyes were kind. "Slippery mud there. You'll fall down!"

Suddenly, Gabriel's eyes lit up with recognition. He tore away from Molly and ran toward the old man. "Gabriel!" she gasped. "Stop!"

"Mr. Rhys! Mr. Rhys!" Gabriel cried, throwing himself into the arms of the old caretaker.