Author's note: As promised, I am publishing this chapter today, even though I published another one-shot earlier this week. If I do write more on my pandemic series, I will consider those as bonus stories, so that I can keep this story schedule to every other week and the other current one to a bi-weekly schedule as well.

Friday 21st to Sunday 23rd June

Sherlock walked to the door with Victoria and opened it for Molly. She was humming, obviously in a good mood.

"Presumably, you are back to doing post-mortems." His voice was matter-of-fact.

Molly grinned at him. "Guess my good mood gave me away. I asked Mike if he could put me on the schedule again for doing them, because I'm over the morning sickness, and he told me there was one scheduled for today already if I wanted it. Of course I jumped at the opportunity."

He smiled back at her. How many people would find it odd or even repugnant that a woman would jump at the opportunity to slice into cadavers on a regular basis? But that was her calling, and she excelled at it.

She bent her head to kiss Victoria. "Hello lovey, were you a good girl for Daddy?"

Victoria reached her arms up for Molly. "Yes, Mama."

Molly put down her handbag and Sherlock transferred their daughter to her. She sniffed, and her gaze narrowed at him. "How long has Victoria had a dirty nappy this time?"

Sherlock threw up his hands. "Only a minute or two," he said, or fifteen, he thought. To be fair, he never let Victoria stay in a dirty nappy for more than twenty minutes and then only if he was expecting Molly home from work. If she was not on her way home, he would change Victoria immediately. Victoria didn't seem particularly fussed.

Molly rolled her eyes. "How convenient."

He gave her a guilty look. "You are so much better at changing her than I am. She has far too many little crevices for me to clean properly. I have difficulty navigating all those girl parts."

Molly gave him a sly look as she headed to the changing mat where Sherlock had already thoughtfully placed a clean nappy and the wipes. "You don't seem to have a problem navigating my girl parts."

Sherlock followed her and watched as Molly expertly lifted Victoria's little dress and opened up the nappy. He wrinkled his nose at the smell. "You don't have girl parts, you have woman parts, and it's an entirely different thing to explore those."

Molly gave an exaggerated sigh. "Seriously, Sherlock, it isn't that hard to clean her bottom these days, now that Victoria is on regular food. Just empty the poo into the toilet. There's hardly anything on her bottom that needs to be cleaned."

She used a wipe on Victoria's bottom, wrapped up the dirty nappy and handed it to him along with a plastic bag. "In fact, you can do just that while I put on a clean nappy."

Sherlock made a face but dutifully took the dirty nappy and dumped its contents down the toilet, then flushed it. He put the nappy into the bag and tied it closed, then tossed it into the rubbish bin in the kitchen before washing his hands.

Molly joined him to wash her own hands. "See, that wasn't so bad, was it?"

"I suppose not. How long until she's ready for toilet training?"

Molly laughed and nudged him. "Don't act as if you haven't thoroughly researched that for yourself. I'm sure you found the average age is two, so I think you are going to have a few months of dealing with two children in nappies before Victoria is ready to go on the toilet herself."

Sherlock groaned and placed his hands on Molly's shoulders. "I was hoping those websites were wrong, and that you could tell me otherwise. Domestic bliss has its disadvantages." At her pout he added in a whisper, "but it definitely has its advantages as well." He bent his head to kiss her, hearing the background noise of Victoria pressing the buttons to make the xylophone sound notes that accompanied their embrace. It was not exactly Mozart, but kissing Molly seemed to still spark an invisible symphony inside his mind.

The inevitable feeling of desire spread through him as he felt Molly's hands slide around his waist. Before Victoria had come upon the scene, he would certainly have progressed things further than kissing. Reluctantly, he pulled back. "I suppose we should have some dinner, and you can do more work on the play while I pack a few more things for the move."

Molly bit her lip. "I think I'd like a break from that tonight. I can work on it tomorrow. I thought maybe you'd like to see some home videos from when I was little. Mum had them put onto DVD, and she stopped by work today to give them to me."

That was when Sherlock remembered. "Oh, sweetheart. Today is twenty-one years since your father passed away."

Molly nodded and blinked back sudden tears. "Yes. I thought it would be nice to see my dad again, even if only in a video. You've never even had the chance to see what he was like."

Sherlock took her hand, and they returned to the sitting room. "I'd love to do that with you, sweetheart."

After dinner, Molly pulled out several disc cases from her handbag and handed them to Sherlock. "Mum told me she has put dates on them. You can choose what you'd like to see. Dad bought a video camera when I was about five."

"Well, I think we should start at the beginning."

He looked at the discs and selected the one with the earliest date, putting it into the Blu-ray player and pressing play on the remote.

Molly had settled Victoria on her lap, and she pointed at the television. "Look - that's Mummy when she was a little girl, and that's your granddad."

Sherlock watched a young Molly being shown how to wield a cricket bat while her mother's voice could be heard from behind the camera calling out encouragement.

Victoria soon got bored, too young to understand what was on the screen, and Sherlock lifted her back into the playpen. He, however, watched with fascination. It was interesting to see Molly as a young girl, doing various activities. One of these was when she was dressed as an angel with a circle of silver tinsel in her hair, singing a solo in a recorded Christmas Eve service. Even as a child, she had had a pure, clear voice.

It was also interesting to see her father talking and moving, very much alive. Up until this point, Sherlock had only seen a handful of photos that included Molly's father.

Seeing tears on Molly's face, he slipped his arm over her shoulders, and she snuggled her head against him as they watched together.

They had just finished the first DVD, about an hour's worth of footage where Molly had progressed from a five-year-old with missing front teeth to having had her eighth birthday, when Victoria began to protest her neglect at being left to her own devices for so long.

Molly immediately rose to cuddle with her daughter. "Maybe we can watch a little more after she goes to bed," she told Sherlock. "It's time to get her into her sleepsuit, anyway."

After Sherlock took care of getting Victoria changed into her sleepsuit, he read a children's storybook, The Very Hungry Caterpillar, to her. He and Molly usually alternated with reading.

Once she was tucked into her cot for the night, he put on the next disc to watch with Molly. They watched Molly grow to a teenager, and he had to smile at how she became camera-shy and self-conscious. He recognised one of her Barbara Cartland books when she put it in front of her face as her father tried to coax her to smile for the camera.

"Thanks for watching with me," said Molly once the second disc had finished.

"It was my pleasure. I am enjoying seeing what you were like in your younger years. You have already had the opportunity to see some home videos when I was young and 'gangly' as Mummy likes to say."

"I think you were still handsome even then. I love that you never cut it short, and that sometimes it was quite long."

Sherlock grinned. "You can thank Mycroft for that. He told me once my hair was too long, and that I needed a haircut, so I made the decision then and there to never cut it by much, and that's when I grew it almost to my shoulders for a while." He paused, thinking back to when he had returned to London. "The longest it has ever been was during my two years away when I let it grow. By the time I returned, it was well past my shoulders. That worked in my favour for the most part though, because it suited my purposes to pose as middle-eastern," he paused, "until of course I ended up being exposed. In any case, almost as soon as I returned to London, Mycroft had a barber ready to cut off all the excess hair and shave me."

Molly gave him an interested look. She stroked her hand across his smooth chin and then playfully twisted one of his curls around her finger. "I don't care for beards, but I'll bet the long hair was super-sexy, like Chris Hemsworth in the first couple Thor movies."

He frowned. "If you're trying to irritate me with your praise of another man, you are succeeding."

Molly got up and moved to straddle his lap, winding her arms about his neck. "You know I could never be interested in anyone but you. I do think long hair in general on the right man is pretty hot."

Are you saying you want me to grow it out like that and look like a hippie from the sixties?"

She smirked back. "Maybe." His eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Just kidding. I love your hair this length." Her fingers threaded through the curls at the nape of his neck, and she moved her face temptingly closer to his, doing a deliberate wiggle of her bottom as she did so.

"If you are planning a seduction, Mrs. Holmes, I suggest we take it to the bedroom."

Without waiting for a response, he gripped her bottom for support and stood. Obligingly, Molly wrapped her legs around his thighs to help secure her position, and he walked with her to the bedroom. As he did so, he realised once they moved into their new home this would not be a likely scenario as stairs would be involved in getting to their bedroom, and he didn't quite fancy a broken neck. For now, though, he was going to enjoy it.

He laid her on the bed and began to kiss her, allowing the flames to rise within himself as usual until they were both lying blissfully sated afterwards.

Sherlock spent the next day entertaining Victoria so Molly could continue her work on the play-writing. Kayla had let Molly know she could do the role of Mary Magdalene, and Kathy from the hospital had agreed to play Mary, mother of Jesus.

Molly told Sherlock that Kayla had also reminded her that in the gospel of John, it was mentioned that the bearer of the loaves and fish in the feeding of the five thousand account had been a young boy. She had asked if Molly was going to find a youth for the role, and Molly had immediately thought of young Archie. With Sherlock's full support, Molly planned to ask him and his mother if he would be interested in participating.

An idea struck Sherlock that night as he watched his daughter play with one of the rubber duckies in her bath that had been a gift from his nephew, Mark, for her birthday. As someone who was doing a degree in International Politics and Policy, Sherlock assumed his nephew would have to be comfortable in public speaking. He would be moving soon to London upon graduation, and Mycroft had hinted that he was already pulling strings to get Mark a job.

Following bath time, Sherlock went into the sitting room with Victoria for a good night kiss from her mother, and he settled her into her cot for the night. When she protested, he spent several minutes singing nursery rhymes and Brahms' Lullaby until her eyes closed and she went to sleep.

He tiptoed out of the bedroom and walked to where Molly was still busily tapping away on her iPad keyboard at the desk.

"How's it going?" he asked, peering over her shoulder.

"Oh, I'm so happy, Sherlock. Thanks for giving me this day to work on the play. I've changed a couple of the non-speaking disciples' roles so that they have a line or two to say." She stopped typing to raise a hand to her neck and rub it wearily. "Can you believe I'm almost finished? I'm at the part where Jesus appears to Mary Magdalene and the other women after his resurrection." She looked at Sherlock. "I forgot that we need to have someone speaking the part of one of the angels who appears to the women. Any ideas?"

Sherlock placed his hands on her shoulders and massaged them, using his thumbs to loosen the knots of tension, and she made a little sound of pleasure. "Not a clue, but I did come up with an idea for the narrator."

She wiggled her shoulders a little in invitation for him to continue. "Do tell."

Sherlock continued to massage her shoulders as he responded. "I thought we might see if Mark would be interested. He's graduating next month and moving to London, so he'll be around. I don't know anything about his upbringing, but we could at least ask if he'd be interested. I thought he'd be a good candidate, given the nature of his degree and comfort with public speaking."

Molly turned her head slightly towards him, and Sherlock knew she was enjoying the spontaneous massage which he was always happy to give. He never tired of hearing those little noises she made, which gave him ideas for certain other pleasurable activities. "That's a wonderful suggestion, honey. Should we just ask him next month at his graduation?"

Sherlock paused for a moment, thinking. When Molly made a little mewl of disappointment, he resumed his ministrations. "I think we should contact him. If he isn't interested, we'll have to find someone else, and it would be better to know that sooner, rather than later. I could call him."

"Good idea, but you should definitely wait until you finish massaging my poor, aching shoulders."

Sherlock's lips curved upwards. "Perhaps I shall require immediate compensation following this massage."

"You have a one-track mind. I'm not ready for bed yet. I think I'd like a nice cup of spearmint tea first."

He bent down to kiss the top of her head. "You are good at jumping to conclusions. Perhaps I was asking for a batch of ginger nuts."

Molly laughed. "As if. I can't make a batch of ginger nuts appear out of thin air for your immediate compensation."

Sherlock chuckled. "Very well, it appears you have caught me out. However, I shall expect payment later in the form of you being the one to initiate our nightly activity."

"Works for me." She made another little moan as he pressed at a particularly hard knot. "I'd happily accept a massage like this from you every day."

Sherlock pretended offence. "You prefer my massage skills to those of my prowess in the bedroom?"

Molly giggled. "Never."

They lapsed into silence for a few minutes as Sherlock continued the massage until Molly rolled her head in a circular motion. "Thanks honey, that feels so much better. I'm going to just finish up the last bit of the play and print out a copy of the script to show Pastor Briggs tomorrow."

"You do that, and I'll get your spearmint tea and a regular cup for myself."

They didn't linger long over their tea. Molly was hoping to speak to Bob, George and Caleb before the church service. She also wanted to talk to Pastor Briggs about the play and using the church hall for rehearsals, as well as have him announce the date of the play and that people could speak to her if they were interested in participating.

The following morning, they were ready to go twenty minutes earlier than usual.

Molly had the printout of the play, which had required a good amount of paper and ink. She planned to ask whether the church could make copies of the play in larger quantities, because the printer was much more efficient.

"We will have to think about costumes and building sets as well," said Sherlock as he picked up the changing bag, then gathered up his daughter, who was dressed in a sweet little floral summer dress with a matching headband.

"There is actually a storage room at church that has costumes we've used over the years for nativity plays and other programmes, so we might be able to adapt them. One of the ladies at church, you know Lynn, is also a wonderful seamstress. I can ask her if she'd help us with alterations." Molly paused for a moment, thinking, then continued. "I remember we had an Easter play one year as well, and there was a special cross built by some of the men in the church. As I recall, it had a ledge for the person playing Jesus to stand on and straps to help support his arms so they could stay stretched out. I'm sure we could use that. But we'd definitely need to build a boat for the storm scene and the one when Jesus walks on water."

Sherlock could tell Molly had been doing more than writing the play; she had been thinking about the logistics of it as well. He felt a burst of pride and love for her. She continued to amaze him even after two years of being together.

At church, Sherlock volunteered to talk to Caleb and George, as well as Bob, so she could speak to Pastor Briggs. She headed off, leaving Sherlock to hold Victoria on his hip. He looked around and spotted Bob. Sherlock and Bob had come to know one another a little better than Molly knew. He had been the one to bring a new chapter of Narcotics Anonymous to their church a couple months after Sherlock and Molly had been married. That had led to Sherlock attending meetings on a semi-regular basis. Bob's own issues had been an addiction to painkillers, and he had now been clean for several years.

"Bob!" he called, and the older man turned with a cheery wave.

Bob walked over with his wife. "Sherlock, how are you doing?" He shook Sherlock's hand. "Hello sweetie," he said also to Victoria, who beamed at him.

"Very well, thanks, I wanted a quick word before the service starts."

Sherlock explained about Molly's play and his idea for Bob to play Caiaphas in it. With Noreen also present, he thought he'd ask as well if she might like to be the woman who was healed from bleeding issues.

With their enthusiastic, positive response, Sherlock moved on to speak to Caleb, who had just been practising the day's songs with the worship team.

Abigail was sitting in the front pew with their daughter, Grace, and Sherlock sat with Victoria to say hello.

As soon as Caleb concluded his practice and came over to his wife, Sherlock made his request.

He told them about the play Molly had written and asked whether Caleb would be interested in participating in a small way as Matthew.

Caleb looked at Abigail. "What do you think, honey? Now that Grace has finished her chemotherapy treatments, we usually have our evenings free."

Abigail smiled. "I think it's a wonderful idea. We've had so many months of prayer support and encouragement from the church since Grace's cancer diagnosis that I think it would be lovely to give back in some way. The fact that Molly was inspired in part to do this because of Grace, makes me feel even more strongly that you should do it." She looked at her daughter. "Don't you think it's a good idea, Grace?"

Grace obviously was too young to know what the adults were talking about, but she said, "Yes, Mama."

"Well, then," said Caleb, "looks like you have yourself a Matthew." Then he looked thoughtful. "Unless you go into labour at the wrong time." He looked pointedly at Abigail's protruding belly.

She bit her lip. "Well, the baby is only due at the end of September, so I hope not." Then she said firmly, "I am sure the Lord will see to it that you are able to

do the play."

Sherlock beamed. "Excellent! Molly will be so pleased. If you will excuse me, I need to just go over there and speak to George."

"Bye bye," said Victoria, waving, as Sherlock stood and turned to head in George's direction.

After explaining the same information to George, and George pretending to pout about being asked to play a "bad guy", the older man said he would be happy to play the role of Pontius Pilate. Of course, Pilate wasn't really a bad guy, reflected Sherlock to himself, merely a weak one.

Sherlock set Victoria down and walked with her to where Molly was still in conversation with their pastor. He heard the tail end of their conversation.

"I'll have Nancy make twenty copies of the script for now and have them ready for you by next week. If you need more, just let her know." Pastor Briggs turned his gaze on Sherlock and Victoria. "Ah, good morning, Sherlock, Victoria. Your wife has been very busy lately. You must be proud of her."

"Indeed, I am. My wife is an extraordinarily talented woman." Sherlock dropped Victoria's hand to place his on Molly's shoulder.

"Mama, up." Victoria stood in front of Molly, who picked her up.

"Well, I must get ready for the service," said the pastor and headed towards the pulpit from where he would begin the service with announcements.

Sherlock saw John and Kayla approaching with Rosie and Adam, and the adults headed to their usual pew after greeting one another.

After Pastor Briggs went through the usual announcements, Sherlock couldn't help feeling proud of Molly again when the pastor talked about her project.

"And, last but not least, I'd like to let you know about a project that has been the brainchild of Molly Holmes. She has been writing a play about the life of Jesus, and it will be rehearsed at the church, then performed at a theatre in Hackney on," he consulted his notes briefly, "September fourteenth. Molly is looking for people who may be interested in participating in some way, either with set building or assisting with costume alterations, as well as people who might like to participate in the play itself as extras. Please see her after the service if you are interested."

Sherlock squeezed Molly's hand and smiled at her.

As soon as the service was over, a number of people headed for their pew, and Molly took down the names of several people who expressed interest in the play. Lynn, who Molly had mentioned earlier, came up to offer her support and volunteer to coordinate the efforts of anyone who might like to help in the costuming department.

Five men, including Bob and Matthias, another fellow NA member, volunteered their services in building any sets that might be required, and several people expressed interest in participating in the play itself.

Sherlock was very pleased when Archie, who had come to church again with his mother, came up to him and tugged at his arm. "Can I be in the play too?"

Sherlock smiled. It looked like Molly would not have to approach Archie and his mother after all. He felt this was definitely a sign from God that the lad was supposed to be in the play.

Sherlock glanced at Molly, who was still occupied in talking to some other people about the play. "Archie, we would love for you to take on a small role, that of a young lad who has the loaves and fish that are to be distributed during the feeding of the five thousand."

Archie's eyes shone. "Really, Mr. Holmes? An actual part?"

"Indeed, son." Sherlock placed an affectionate hand on the young lad's curly head, even as he held Victoria at his hip. She too suddenly reached out a hand to Archie as well, and he grinned at her, giving it a little squeeze.

"I can't wait to tell Mummy. And don't forget your promise to me."

"I won't. As I said last week, once we are settled in our new house, we will invite you and your mother for a visit, and I'll show you some things on my laptop, but you had best clear it first with your mother. I wouldn't want you getting nightmares. We must also ask her permission about you being in the play."

"I'm sure Mummy will be happy with me being in the play. And I didn't get nightmares when you showed me the maggots coming out of that man's eyes either. That was years ago, too."

Sherlock smiled in amusement. He really liked the boy. Maybe one day he'd have a son just like him. Perhaps even now, Molly was carrying their son, although he still suspected it was another girl. "Nevertheless, you must seek permission from your mother first on both accounts."

Allison came up then. "Seek permission for what?"

"First, Archie has volunteered to be in the play. I would very much like for him to take on the role of the boy with the loaves and fish during the feeding of the five thousand scene. Do you give your consent for this? It will require a number of evening and weekend rehearsals."

Allison smiled. "I have the feeling God is telling us this is the right church for us. I think it would be lovely to see Archie involved in something like this."

"Yay!" Archie reached a hand out to Victoria for a high five. After a moment of confusion, she raised her own, and he pressed his palm against it.

"You said there were two things you wanted my permission for?" enquired Allison, smiling at the enthusiasm of her son.

"Archie has asked me to show him some images from crime scenes, including ones in which I have been involved in the past. Some may be a little gruesome."

Allison laughed. "Oh, I'm sure I would not have liked him to see that kind of thing back in the day when he was the page boy for Mary's wedding to John, but with the internet these days, he is always reading up on crimes, and I'm sure he has seen no end of gruesome scenes."

Sherlock thought a little guiltily of the promise he had made to the seven-year-old Archie to show him particularly graphic images, including beheadings. Being a father himself now, he certainly didn't want Victoria being subjected to that kind of footage until she was at least the age Archie was now, maybe not even then.

"Well, we will certainly have you both over for dinner one evening once we are in our new house," said Molly, who had finished talking with the other church volunteers. She slipped an arm around Sherlock's waist. "I'm so happy to see you both again today." Molly beamed brightly, but Sherlock could see a shadow cross her face. He knew she still felt sad about Allison's status as a single mother. The dream she had had which had mirrored Allison's plight somewhat had ended happily with Sherlock finally becoming a Christian after a long journey of sadness and hurt, and Sherlock knew Molly wished it could be the same for Allison. Unfortunately, people didn't always get a happy ending, that was real life. Not everyone could be blessed the way he and Molly had been.

But he knew he could erase that slight shadow from her face. "Good news, Molly. Archie has agreed to play the role we were discussing."

He was right. The shadow disappeared, and it was as if the sun came out as Molly's mouth opened in pleasure. "Oh, that's wonderful! Thank you, Archie! Your contribution will be most appreciated."

They said goodbye to Archie and his mother and left the church to return home.

After lunch, Molly reminded Sherlock to contact Mark, and he did so, explaining in a text about Molly's play and what he was hoping Mark might agree to do.

About an hour later, when Sherlock was helping Victoria put animals into a block puzzle as Molly worked on a tentative rehearsal schedule for the play, he heard his text alert go off.

Sherlock checked his phone, and a pleased smile spread over his face when he read what the message contained.

Hi Uncle Sherlock - hope you don't mind me calling you that, I've never had an uncle before! I had a little think about it, and I really like that you are doing this as a fundraiser for cancer research. As you know, my mum died of leukaemia, so it's a cause I feel strongly about. I don't know a whole lot about the Bible, but Mum did take me to church every now and then when I was growing up. You say I don't need to learn any lines but just read off a script, so I think I could manage that. So my answer is yes, I'll do it, as long as it doesn't interfere with me starting a new job - guess you'll have to check with my father closer to the time of my graduation. I expect I will be working days though, so wouldn't think it will be a problem. Looking forward to seeing you, Molly and my cousin next month. Talk to you later, Unc.

"Good news, Molly," said Sherlock, as he looked over to see her questioning gaze. He paused a moment for dramatic effect, then continued, "we have ourselves a narrator." Then, he had to be honest and add, "That is, as long as it doesn't interfere with his job schedule, so I'll have to check with Mycroft on that if he has lined one up for sure."

Molly clasped her hands in delight. "Oh, that's absolutely wonderful!" Then she looked solemn. "I suppose I should stop for now and get some sleep so I'm awake for night shift."

Sherlock sighed. He'd forgotten about that. It was funny how his brilliance as a detective hadn't diminished over the past couple of years, but his memory retention for ordinary, everyday things seemed to fail him on occasion. He looked over at Victoria and saw, to his surprise and pleasure, that she had completed her block puzzle and was looking decidedly sleepy.

"Looks like our daughter is ready for a nap herself." He walked over to Molly and bent down to say softly into her ear, "If I can get her into her cot to sleep, what do you say we enjoy a little lovemaking, seeing as you will be absent overnight?"

Molly gave him a flirtatious look. "I am certainly not opposed to the idea; you can wear me out so that I can fall asleep afterwards."

He smirked. "I might just stay with you for a while and join you. You know I often get tired afterwards as well. All those endorphins being released..."

So saying, he turned, picked up Victoria and headed for the bedroom.

She made barely a whimper when he put her down in the cot, just moved onto her side in her favourite position, and he watched for a couple minutes to see her breathing become regular and even.

By the time he turned around, having heard the sound of Molly undressing, he saw she was sitting up in bed, only her bottom half covered by the duvet with her sweet breasts fully exposed to his view, immediately tempting him.

He wasted no time in undressing and joining her, pressing his lips to hers, feeling desire heating him from the inside, the fire of passion rising. His hands roamed her body freely, eliciting the usual little moans and whimpers she tried to keep quiet, and when she had trouble keeping those sounds muted, he silenced them himself with his mouth on hers, absorbing them.

Love in the afternoon could be quite satisfying, Sherlock thought later, as he pulled Molly close against him. They definitely deserved their alone time after all the work they had accomplished thus far on the play.

The warmth of Molly's body against his lulled him very quickly to join her in sleep.

Author's note: Sorry for such a long chapter! Writing a play and organizing the logistics is definitely a big ask for both Molly and myself, but I think things are progressing well. With my opera background and familiarity with being onstage, it certainly helps when it comes to describing all that is necessary for putting on a play. People have no idea how much work goes on behind the scenes to prepare. I hope this will give readers a little glimpse of it.

As usual, if you are enjoying this story, don't forget those follows/favourites and reviews! Everyone likes to see a visible sign of appreciation for their hard work!