How are you feeling today? Molly texted Sherlock the morning after their date.

Headache, but otherwise good, he responded.

Would you like a visit? Molly asked.

Yes, okay, Sherlock wrote back.

Molly arrived at Baker Street not too long after, sat down on the sofa next to Sherlock and gave him a kiss.

"Who are all these from?" she asked, as she saw bags of gifts on the floor.

"Oh, just well-wishers hearing about my injury," he answered.

Molly skimmed through the bags, lifted some of the gifts, and shook them carefully.

"Aren't you going to open them?" she asked, and put back the ones she had examined.

"Yes," Sherlock said, while staying on the sofa.

"Is something wrong?" Molly asked again and placed a hand on his left leg.

"I think you're obsessed with my cast, Molly," Sherlock stated, and smirked.

She removed her hand without saying anything.

"No, it's fine," he said, and reached for her hand. "You had someone close to you, whom you needed to take care of for an extended period of time, didn't you?"

"I did," Molly exclaimed. "My dad, before he died."

"But that doesn't answer my question," Molly continued, a bit more firmly.

"I just miss moving around as I used to. What if I don't get it off when I go back for x-rays? What if they say I have to get another cast?"

Molly squeezed his hand. "You are doing so well, Sherlock, and if they say you have to get another cast, I'm sure you will get through it just as well as now," she assured him, and kissed him again. He kissed her back and it lasted until they had to stop for a breath.

"Maybe there will be some new books or games among your gifts?" Molly suggested, and grabbed one gift she was sure contained some sort of game and gave it to Sherlock.

Sherlock ripped it open while Molly went to the fridge to check its contents, closed the door of the fridge and opened the cupboard instead. She decided on toast and put some coffee on as well.

She brought it over, and Sherlock had opened a second gift, claiming to already have the book it contained.

Molly wandered to the bookshelf and found the book there.

"Yes, it's here, " she said, holding up the book with the cover towards Sherlock.

"You can have it if you wish. I have no need for two copies," Sherlock said, grabbing a third gift.

Molly saw a piece of paper in the book and pulled it out. It was a handwritten letter with the title Goodbye my Mary. "Sherlock, have you seen this?" she asked while walking back to him.

"John must have left it in the book when he borrowed it after Mary's death," Sherlock muttered, skimming through it.

"He's quite the romantic. I'm impressed that he has managed to keep his romantics after seeing all those love affairs and domestic murders in our cases."

Molly read it, tears forming in her eyes. "Listen to this,"

When I say I grieve, I grieve because I will never again get the feeling I always got when you walked into a room. I will never again see your smile, or see how your smile makes your eyes sparkle. I will never again hear your voice and feel how it hits me like a warm ray of sunlight. I grieve, because we never got to experience Rosie's milestones together. Her first step, her first word, her first day of school, and we never got to experience

Rosie as a big sister, happily announcing another addition to the family to our friends.

I miss the late night bickering on whose turn it is to take out the trash, or mow the lawn. I miss waking up to your messy hair and morning breath, and I miss having a 5 minute breakfast with you before rushing out the door, getting a toothpaste flavoured kiss from your soft lips before I leave for work in the morning. Or walking to or from work together, in our early days, before Rosie was born. I miss our late night strolls, breathing in the atmosphere of people rushing through the busy streets. Thank you for putting up with me through my last grief when I thought I had lost my best friend. You always bought such nice flowers for his grave, and now he will do the same for you.

My body is aching from your overshadowing absence.

You made me a better man and I will spend the rest of my life trying to become the man you always knew I was.

I think of my life as before and after I met you.

My future has lost its privilege, and your past will always be my business.

Rest in peace, dearest

Molly wiped a tear from her cheek.

"I'm worried about him, Sherlock," she said, her voice breaking. She put the letter back in the book.

"What do you say we invite him over to play a game?" Sherlock enquired happily and held up one of the new games he had been given.

"Yes, it will be nice to see how he is," Molly answered, sniffling.

"I intend to ask Greg for any cases involving crime scenes one of these days," Sherlock informed, while taking out his phone from his trouser pocket.

Play a game tonight? Sherlock texted John.

Not Cluedo, John texted back.

Of course, Sherlock replied.

I'll come over after work.

Great.

"John will be here after work," Sherlock told Molly.

"Which one of the games do you want to play?" she asked him, and read the back of some of the games.

"It seems like all the games are either about exercising the mind, cooperating to solve a problem or competing against each other. I am currently in favour of exercising the mind, but I'm also open to competing against each other," he said excitedly.

"I'll just put away the games where we cooperate then," Molly said and laughed.

A knock on the door sounded through the flat and Mrs Hudson appeared.

"I thought I heard someone talking," she said and smiled.

"And you've already had something to eat and a cuppa," she continued, and smiled at Molly.

"How is everything?" Molly asked Mrs Hudson.

"Fine, dear. Just the hip you know, and I tried that new bread everyone's talking about," Mrs Hudson answered

"Oh, I tried that too," Molly said cheerfully, "but then I bought the one I usually buy the next time I went to the shop."

"That's how it goes, isn't it?" Mrs Hudson said, walking to the pile of wrapping paper starting to collect it.

"You don't have to do that," Molly softly uttered and started to help her.

They went to Mrs Hudson's flat, placed it all in bags and threw them in the bins outside.

Molly and Mrs Hudson walked upstairs again.

"He's no help," Mrs Hudson stated, glancing at Sherlock, who had closed his eyes, steepled his fingers under his chin, and was deep in his mind palace.

"He has a big decision to make about which game to play tonight," Molly said and chuckled.

Mrs Hudson sighed, announced that she would carry up some biscuits later, and left.

Molly was currently rereading her favourite fantasy series and had brought a copy of one of the books with her. She placed herself in Sherlock's chair and immersed herself in that world for a couple of hours. Seeing that Sherlock was still in his mind palace, she decided on going out for some fresh air. She put the book back in her bag, put her coat on and walked to a shop further away. She ended up buying crisps, chocolate and soft drinks for the game night and hoped the rest wouldn't mind the brands of chocolate and drinks she had bought. On the way back she met a friend from work and they chatted until the friend had to leave for an appointment somewhere.

She came back to 221 and ran into Mrs Hudson walking out from her flat.

"Oh, it's you, love," Mrs Hudson exclaimed.

"Yes, I just popped out for something to munch on for the game night. It starts sometime around tea. You're welcome to join us of course," Molly said, going up the stairs.

Mrs Hudson smiled and strolled outside.

Molly placed the shopping bag on the counter, and stacked the soft drinks in the fridge.

She took off her coat and walked over to Sherlock, placing a hand on his leg, which seemed to have become some sort of thing between them. He smiled widely without opening his eyes and Molly felt a bit like she had to perform a true love's kiss to wake him from slumber as they did in the fairy tales. Her hand made its way to the curls in the back of Sherlock's neck and she played with them carefully before she approached him slowly and kissed him. He kissed her back and opened his eyes.

"Hello Beauty," he said softly, and Molly got lost in his galactic irises.

"Hello Beast," she answered, matching his soft words.

"Oh, I have to see a man about a dog," he suddenly said in his usual voice, dragging them both back to reality.

He grabbed his crutches and moved to the loo quickly.

Molly stretched out on the sofa and read her book. She heard Sherlock opening the door to the bathroom soon after, and then moving a chair by the kitchen table.

They didn't move until they heard footsteps and Molly saw John walking into the flat with Rosie on his hip and a changing bag on his shoulder. She put the book away, greeted John and came over to them.

"Hello, sweetheart," she said and lifted Rosie to her own hip.

John walked to the kitchen table. "Experiment?" he asked Sherlock.

"Certainly," Sherlock answered, looking through his microscope.

"Care to explain?" John said again.

"Decomposition," Sherlock answered and pointed to the labels he had put on the pots on the kitchen table, naming the material in the soil and how long they had been there.

"Are you using the Carbon-14 method?" John enquired, to which Sherlock didn't answer.

"The game we are going to play is on the desk," Sherlock said instead.

John trudged over to it and chuckled when he examined the front of it and read the back. "Of course you would choose a game approved by Mensa."

"Still think I'm a genius, don't you, John?"

"Well, I don't know how someone can be so clever and so ignorant all at the same time, but still a genius," John said.

"Okay," Sherlock muttered and smirked.

Molly sat down with Rosie on her lap, searched through the changing bag, and grabbed some toys she wiggled in the air to Rosie's enjoyment.

"Anyone else starving?" John said loudly.

"Maybe we can order something? Pizza perhaps?" Molly wondered out loud.

"Pizza sounds great," John said, and searched for pizza places offering takeaway nearby.

"Pepperoni, or ham and pineapple?" John asked.

"Pineapple has no place on pizza," Sherlock stated, still looking through his microscope.

"I quite like it," Molly said, standing with Rosie again, who had started to fuss.

John looked over at Molly when he heard Rosie fussing. "Would you mind giving Rosie her bottle?"

Molly searched through the bag once more and found a bottle and some formula.

"Oh, and Greg might be here too, I invited him over after he asked to go out for a pint, and I said I was coming here,"John muttered while scrolling through the menu on his phone.

"One of each pizza then?" Molly proposed, heating Rosie's formula.

John called the pizza place, told them the address and hung up. "They said it would take about 30 minutes."

Molly sat down carefully and fed Rosie. When she had finished, Molly placed a towel on her shoulder and burped her. "There you go," Molly said and stroked Rosie's back when she burped.

John set up the game on the coffee table and read the rules out loud. "The objective of the game is to combine tiles of different shapes and colours. Players score one point for each block played, plus all blocks adjacent. If a player completes a line containing all six shapes or colours, an additional six points are scored."

John placed both chairs next to the table and sat down in the chair he usually sat in. Molly moved to the other chair, thinking Sherlock wanted to sit on the sofa.

"Come on, then," John said to Sherlock.

Sherlock stood up from the kitchen chair and moved to the sofa, stretching his leg out on it.

They played some tiles each before the doorbell rang. "I'll go get the pizzas," John said, getting up.

He came back up, turning his head, not sure where to place the pizzas and then deciding on the desk, on top of the debris there.

"Could you get the soft drinks from the fridge, please, John?" Molly asked him.

He got the drinks and some glasses, trying to not make too much noise, seeing as Rosie had fallen asleep.

He placed the glasses on the coffee table and filled them up with the drinks requested by the rest.

"And some pizza?" he asked, and brought the pepperoni for Sherlock, and the ham and pineapple for Molly. He placed the boxes back to the other table and took a few slices himself.

"I wonder when Greg meant to pop in," John muttered out loud.

He brought over the pizza boxes again, and they all ate a couple more pieces, before going back to playing the game.

Mrs Hudson appeared with a tray of biscuits eventually and declined the invitation to join them.

Sherlock sneezed, and immediately froze, being afraid of waking Rosie. She still slept soundly.

When they decided on starting the last round, Greg walked up to the flat and said hi.

"There you are," John said, and got a kitchen chair for him to sit on. "The pizzas have gone cold though."

"That's fine," Greg replied and grabbed a slice. He ate it quickly and grabbed another, before he sat down and was told the rules of the game.

"How refreshing to play something other than Cluedo," Greg said happily, and Sherlock sighed.

"I haven't played it as frequently as people think," he said, sneezing again.

"Are you getting a cold?" John asked him, looking concerned.

"No, I'm fine," Sherlock answered, sniffling.

Greg participated in two rounds, and when Sherlock sneezed for the third time, John said, "That's it. Off to bed. Doctor's orders."

Sherlock groaned, and went to the bathroom reluctantly. He muttered an almost inaudible "Good night" before going to his bedroom after. A loud sneeze was heard from his room and Rosie stirred, but didn't wake up.

"He can't catch a break these days," Greg muttered.

"I can stay here just in case Sherlock needs something, Molly," John told her. "I can get Rosie's play pen and she can stay here tonight."

"I don't mind looking after him, " Molly replied. "Maybe you can come over tomorrow night, when I have to go to work."

"Sure," John said, smiling.

Molly handed Rosie over to John, picked up the changing bag and hung it on John's shoulder.

"Good night," she said.

"Good night," he said back.

Greg rose as well. "I'd better be off too. Night."

Molly snacked on another biscuit, and checked on Sherlock. He was fast asleep.

She strolled back to the coffee table and put the pieces in the box and closed the lid. I forgot the snacks I bought, she thought, and lay down on the sofa and read until she fell asleep.

She was awoken by several loud sneezes from Sherlock's bedroom in the middle of the night, and checked on him again. He had quite a lot of mucus right below his nose, and she found a paper towel from the bathroom which she soaked, squeezed off most of the water and cleaned him up. She put a towel on his pillow so that he wouldn't lie in his own saliva for the rest of the night.

Author's note:

The game they played is a game called Qwirkle. Did you guess it? It's a fun game, and I highly recommend it.

And poor Sherlock, getting a cold too. I hope you don't think I'm giving him too much trouble. He will get better soon, I promise :)

A shoutout to Goodshipsherlollipop for guessing the correct game while she was betareading. If you haven't read her stories yet, pop on over to her profile and check out her stories!

What did you think about John's letter to Mary?