"So, Molly's gonna meet us at this cake place."

"It's your birthday. Cake is obligatory."


"Hi, Molly." John greeted Molly through the phone, standing in the middle of Baker Street's living room, waiting for Sherlock to finish getting dressed.

"Hi, John. I am not late, am I?" Molly said apologetically through the phone speaker that John turned ON.

"Oh, no, no. I just wanted to tell you that we are heading out to celebrate Sherlock's birthday." John explained.

"Oh, alright. I will head home then." Molly replied calmly.

"What? Why?" John asked quickly, staring at his phone.

"You said you are going out to celebrate."

"Yes, and you are coming with us. That's why we are calling you." John said as he turned to find Sherlock standing at his bedroom's hallway, gazing at John's phone.

"Oh…um…okay." Molly murmured quietly.

"So, do you know a place?" John asked.

"Uh, yes. I will send you the location."

Sherlock sensed Molly's hesitance, or maybe it was indifference? He wasn't really her most favourite person right now -he knew that much- even if she didn't mind watching over him in turns with John, Greg and Mrs. Hudson.

When did everything go wrong? Sherlock wondered.


Twenty minutes later, the cab stopped in front of "The Cake Place" and John and Sherlock hopped out of it. They easily spotted Molly, sitting at one of the outdoors tables, clearly waiting for them. As John took a step forward to walk to Molly, Sherlock stopped him by placing his hand on his forearm, while fixing his eyes on Molly.

Slumped shoulders, dark-coloured clothes, a tight bun instead of her signature ponytail. An overnight bag was lying next to her feet; she was packed for her babysitting shift with him at 221B.

"Hi, Molly." John cheerfully greeted as he and Sherlock walked closer to the reserved table.

"Hello." Molly replied with a weak smile, putting her phone aside.

Both men sat on their chairs, and John immediately picked up one of the menus.

"Did you order yet?" He asked as he quickly scanned the menu with his eyes.

"Um…no. I was waiting for you."

"You know what I like." Sherlock blurted out.

Molly glanced at him blankly, and John cleared his throat

Feeling all eyes are on him, Sherlock snatched the menu from John's hands and made a show of reading it before saying, "We can order the chocolate and strawberry cake. Unless you want something else?"

"You are the birthday boy. Besides, I like chocolate. Molly?" John asked.

"Okay." Molly answered curtly, and John signaled to the waiter and placed the order.

"Oh, and add a candle, please." John asked the waiter, winking at Sherlock.

"Oh, no, please." Sherlock groaned.

The waiter took the order and left, and three of them fell into a strange silence. It was John who first tried to break the silence, so he turned to Molly, who was watching the street idly, and asked, "You already knew that, didn't you?"

But even John's voice wasn't strong enough to pull her out of her trance.

"Molly?" John gently asked.

"Sorry, what?" Molly quickly said, turning to face John.

"I was asking you a question."

"Sorry, I was…um…what was the question?"

"You already knew that today was Sherlock's birthday."

"Yes." Molly answered with a small sigh.

"How?"

"I faked his death certificate before." Molly shrugged, still avoiding looking at Sherlock, who was watching her intently.

'Does that mean you know his first name, too?" John asked teasingly.

"What?"

"His first name. It's not Sherlock. You know that too, right?" John said, glancing quickly at Sherlock.

"Yes. Again, I faked his death certificate."

"Wow!" John stared at Molly, then back at Sherlock. "How do you know all these things about him? I didn't even know that his first name is William until he told me himself before he was exi-"

John knew Molly didn't know about the exile that ended even before it started, thanks to Moriarty. But what he didn't know was that Molly already knew about the exile, thanks to Mary, who may have had a slip of a tongue. Like Mary could have something like that!

John cleared his throat, cutting his words immediately before exposing his friend's secret. "You really know Sherlock very well, Molly."

"Knowing his first name and his birth date don't count."

Sherlock froze for a moment, his mind trying to process those simple yet devastating words. Was Molly back on that "I don't count" nonsense?

Sherlock tilted his head, still watching Molly, not knowing what he should say in response to what she just said.

"Well, they certainly count, Molly. I have known Sherlock for years and I never knew his birth date."

"Mmm." Molly mumbled.

Luckily, the waiter came back with the chocolate cake and a lit candle stuck in the middle of it and three plates and forks. John thanked the waiter and volunteered to slice the cake.

Sherlock suddenly said, pointing his finger to John, "Please, refrain from singing or I will be back to drugs."

John chuckled then said, "Alright, no need to threaten us. I will grant you this wish since you were civil enough to accept this small gathering."


Thirty minutes later, the squad of three have finished eating, and John excused himself to go back home for Rosie. As soon as he said his goodbyes and left, Sherlock turned to Molly, "Time to go home."

"Yes."

Without another word, Sherlock picked up Molly's bag from the ground, and together, they left the cake shop and took the first empty cab they could find, back to 221B.

Fifteen minutes later, Sherlock and Molly stepped into Sherlock's flat, and Molly silently took her bag from Sherlock' hands then turned to go to the bathroom.

"Molly." Sherlock said, stopping her in her tracks.

"Yes?" Molly muttered, her back facing him.

"I wanted to tell you something."

Molly turned her head slightly to the left, but didn't fully turn to face him.

"It does count." Sherlock continued, "Everything you know about me counts. Every single detail. Every small note. Every memory. They all count to me."

"Sherlock, you-"

"I know I am not your most favourite person now. I am not anyone's favourite person, actually. But despite everything, I needed to say this. It counts. You count. You always counted and I always trusted you."

Molly fully turned around to properly look at him, "Sherlock, I am not-"

Before Molly could continue, Sherlock's phone rang and they both froze.

Because Sherlock and Molly have just heard a moan... A moan coming from Sherlock's phone. A moan Molly heard once before.

The Woman.

Molly froze, stuck for a few moments in that fateful Christmas party that ended before it really started, and not in a good way.

"Molly-" Sherlock weakly started.

"I will use the bathroom then make a cup of tea. Would you like some?" Molly quickly said, taking big steps towards the bathroom, not even waiting for his answer.

"Uh, no. No, thank you." Sherlock answered in a low voice, as he heard the bathroom's door closing behind her.

Inwardly, Sherlock cursed. He winced visibly as he remembered the fateful Christmas party where he humiliated Molly in front of their friends, and on top of that, it was the first time she heard the erotic text tone from his phone. And now-

Now, it was happening all over again.

Where did everything go wrong? Sherlock wondered. Since when did they –Sherlock and Molly- start feeling uncomfortable in the presence of each other like that?

Sherlock still couldn't shake off the look on Molly's face and her voice when she told John that what she knew about Sherlock didn't count. Why did it feel like they didn't know each other anymore?

Despite everything that Sherlock went through, and although he knew Molly was greatly disappointed in him, he knew he could always count on her. But, she was withdrawing herself from him, bit by bit. He could clearly see it. Bloody hell, anyone could see it!

When did everything go wrong? Sherlock wondered.