A/N I can only apologise. Sorry its so late, the Muse ate my homework.

I absolutely hate leaving things unfinished, really hate it because if people are kind enough to read along the least I can do is finish the damned thing, but the Muse went on strike. It absolutely refused to have anything to do with this story and just stuck it's fingers in it's ears and went LaLaLa every time I tried to find a suitable ending. My Mind Went Completely Blank. Then of course the writers of the actual series did the unspeakable (I would say but I can't speak of it) and I was so upset that even I didn't want to play with the character's any more. *Mutters* So, the Muse and I have been working on personal projects, we've written a couple of books and all that malarkey, so we have been busy. This story has been always on my mind though because it needed to end! However, with the lockdown, we have no excuse, so I tied the Muse up with toilet roll and stuck pasta up it's nose until it agreed to finish the story. So here it is. Enjoy... finally, the finale.

Elf x


Molly started to gather Lottie's things together and put them in her bag.

'You going?' Proud Mary asked uncertainly.

'Yes, I really out to be making tracks. You know what a nightmare the tube is and we might gonna need to wait. I don't want to be late. Four hungry blokes, y'know?' Molly replied with a shrug. She couldn't help but notice the strange look on her former friend's face. She smiled kindly. 'It was nice seeing you though, maybe we can meet up next time I'm visiting me Mum?'

The other woman glanced towards the door, something which Molly thought was unusual. 'No, no, look, I haven't put my hand in my pocket yet, how about we have a quick one for the road?'

Molly stood up and began attempting to put Lottie's coat on her daughter. 'Na, you're all right, don't worry about it.' She said with a shrug, then to her daughter, who was engrossed in the screen in front of her. 'Will you stand still, it's like trying to wrestle a pig, and put that phone down.'

'Oh come on Molly's it's been years, another twenty minutes isn't going to matter, you said your fella was in the pub with his mates anyway.' Mary wheedled.

Molly looked at her watch, it had been a present from Charles for her birthday. She pulled a face. 'I'd better not…' She began.

'Wow, he's really got you well whipped, hasn't he? Never thought I'd see Molly Dawes running home to a bloke.'

It was the smirk that got to Molly the most, something about that smug expression that got her back up. 'Ok, but only one and then we really have to go.'

Mary got to her feet, purse in hand. 'Watch the little one.' She said as she waddled over to the bar.

Sitting back down, Molly smoothed her daughter's hair. 'What are you doing Lots?' She asked. The girl was still engrossed in her phone but lifted her hand to brush her mother away.

She heard the pub door opening, and the sounds of the street briefly encroached on the room before they were once more closed out. Molly didn't think anything of it until she was aware of someone talking to Mary. From the back, he could have been anyone, even her friend's mystery man from the market. It was only when he turned around that Molly recognised him. He was older, stockier and greyer, but there was no mistaking that coldness in his eye.

'I don't 'kin Adam and Eve it.' Molly said under her breath. She stood up and hauled Lottie to her feet, the little girl grunted in protest. 'Get your things, we have to leave now!' she said forcefully.

Mary and Artan walked over towards the table as if it was the most normal thing in the world.

'You set me up.' Molly said, her eyes flashing.

'No, no I didn't, he just happened to…' Mary began.

'Molly, I could not let you visit without coming to say hello.' Artan said, he had moved around the room so that he blocked the way between her and the door.

'You've said it, now we'll be going.' She took a step, her arm protectively around Lottie who was looking up at the man in their path with wide eyes.

'Stay Molly.' Artan said, his arms wide in an open gesture.

'I really do have to be going, I'm meeting my husband, you do remember him don't you?' Molly said pointedly.

'You are still married? I am surprised, English people so rarely take marriage seriously.' He said, shaking his head sadly.

'You mean we don't tend to get married and shag our way around the neighbourhood, no.' She retorted.

'We don't let our wives go into pubs like this where they might meet unsuitable men.' His attention turned to Lottie. 'And who have we here?'

The little girl glared at the newcomer, her bottom lip in a pronounced pout that Molly had often seen in the mirror in her childhood. She pulled her daughter closer. 'We have to go.' She said again, stubbornly.

Artan reached out a hand and cupped Lottie's face. Just as Molly reacted with a yell of 'Don't touch her.' Lottie herself let out a blood-curdling screech. Her tiny fist balled as tightly as she could, she punched Artan in the balls as hard as she could.

There was an 'Oof' of surprise and pain. Lottie was immediately released as both of Artan's hands flew to protect his manhood. He bent double, tears streaming from his eyes.

Other drinkers were starting to pay attention to the scene now. It may have been paranoia, but to Molly, some of them could be brothers or friends of the man now gasping in front of her.

'I am not allowed to talk to strangers.' Lottie said forcefully, with a stamp of her foot.

Molly took her hand and was hurrying out the door when she heard the unmistakable sound of singing coming from along the road. It was two men and they seemed to be attempting the Elton John and Kiki Dee duet. Stepping out onto the pavement, she saw them. Elvis and Charles, practically dancing down the road while JJ and Sam did their best to pretend they weren't with them. Molly raised a hand and waved.

Walking towards her family, Molly heard a shout behind her. Artan was in the street, still clutching himself, his face contorted with pain.

'Are you ok?' Charles asked, searching her face.

'Just some old skeletons coming out of the closet.' She replied, glancing over her shoulder.

'Is that who I think it is?' He asked,

His wife nodded and rolled her eyes.

'Why is he scrunched up like that?'

'Lottie…' She began.

'Did you kick him in the codpiece princess, like Daddy taught you?' Charles said, laughing.

'No, I punched him really hard in the danglies like Uncle Elvis showed me, so the cockwomble would think on.' She said sniffily, before returning the high five from her proud SAS uncle.

'Lottie!' Her mother exclaimed before turning to Charles. 'What are you doing here, anyway?' Molly asked. 'Oh let me guess, Lottie?'

Charles put his arm around his wife. 'She was bored, so she texted for us to come and get you.' He leaned closer. 'Plus she said the lady you were talking to didn't speak English and you were talking funny too. I thought I better come before you went native and we had to hire a translator for the children.' He whispered conspiratorially. He glanced at his daughter. 'Looks like we got here in the nick of time.'

Molly elbowed him in the ribs. 'I'm married to a flamin' comedian.' She muttered. Glancing back at the pub she smiled wistfully. 'Take me home Charlie, I think I'm about done here.'