Blackwood had been found on the street, his head bashed in from a fit of rage. Reporters were scouring the place, wanting to get a peek at the high profile victim, but they were forced to stand behind the police tape. This kind of exposure was exactly what Mycroft didn't want happening. But what can you do when the murderer left the victim on the sidewalk for anyone to find?

Philip Anderson was taking photos of the victim when a cab arrived on the scene. He paused to see who it was, surprised to find Sherlock and Molly arriving together. And—oh my God—Sherlock's hand was on the small of her back in a simple, affectionate gesture. Molly no longer looked as if she were falling to pieces. In fact, she almost looked…happy. Very happy.

The reporters went wild.

"Mister Holmes, how is this case connected to the previous victim?"

"Who's that woman you've arrived with?"

"Is that your girlfriend?"

"What is she doing at a crime scene?"

Sherlock and Molly ignored their incessant questions, focusing on the work before them. Greg and Anderson shared a knowing look as the two rattled off possibilities and factual evidence to one another. The way they moved around each other to observe different areas almost looked like a graceful dance.

"I thought you said they had a fight last night," Greg spoke in a low voice.

"They did," Anderson confirmed. "They must have worked it all out. If they arrived together, they must have spent the night together, and—ohhhh! Sherlolly is real!"

"We can hear you, you know," Sherlock remarked. Molly gave a short laugh. The reporters must have heard too, because the nickname spread like wildfire amongst them. They were beginning to get on Sherlock's last nerve. He was on the verge of snapping at them until Molly diverted his attention.

"Sherlock, look at this," she told him. Her gloved hand traced the letters crudely carved into his chest. "U.O Me…this wouldn't have any connection to Moriarty's I.O.U thing would it?"

A look of abhorrence crossed his face. "Why?" he muttered. "Why does everything seem to lead back to him." Though he was usually able to keep his emotions in check, Sherlock looked as if he were about to have an outburst. Instead of doing so, he began to walk away.

"Darling—" Molly reached out to him.

"Whoever this is, they're out for revenge," Sherlock informed them. "Everyone associated with me is in danger, and that includes you, Molly."

"Sherlock," she spoke low, but firmly. Taking hold of his arm, she walked him a few feet away, though some spectators, including Lestrade and Anderson, could still see them. Molly was talking him down from his frustration and panic. People continued to snap photos whilst Anderson and Greg looked on. And then Molly had his face in her hands, their foreheads leaning together. With bated breath, everyone watched as Sherlock pressed a kiss to her forehead.

"Well, I'll be damned," Greg remarked, not quite believing what he saw.

Anderson's eyes went wide, his jaw dropping. He wished he had popcorn. Wait…his hand dug through his inner jacket pocket and pulled out a small bag of caramel corn. "See? I told you! Did I not tell you?" he wore a very smug smile. "Operation Sherlolly is a success! Case closed!"

Greg pinched the bridge of his nose. He wondered if Anderson's obsession would die down now that the truth was out in the open. When he looked over at Philip, he had to do a double take. "Wait…where did you get popcorn?"

"Alright," Sherlock's baritone boomed as he walked toward Lestrade with Molly. "Here's what's going to happen. Don't answer anybody's questions. Molly will head to the hospital with you. No one else is to do the autopsy but her."

"And where exactly are you going?" Greg asked.

"It seems I should pay a visit to my brother—this is more serious than I anticipated."

Mycroft Holmes was getting impatient. The pressure to catch this high profile murderer was daunting. He pinched the bridge of his nose, waiting for news of any kind. Something must have been found—anything. But, then again, there was one connecting factor…

"Mister Holmes?" Anthea stuck her head through the door of his office.

His eyes lit up at the sight of her. "Yes, what is it? Has the murderer been caught?"

Anthea bit her lip. "Well…not yet, but there has been a different sort of development." She walked toward his desk, and handed him her mobile.

Mycroft knit his brows as he looked through the photos. "It seems my brother and Miss Hooper have worked things out then."

"Yes, sir, they're actually the top news story right now. 'Sherolly,' they're calling them," Anthea informed him.

"Cute," he replied dryly. "At least he'll no longer be lonely."

Feeling brave, Anthea met his eyes with hers. "You don't have to be lonely either…sir." She watched his face soften at her remark. With a warm smile, she turned to leave, finding Sherlock standing in the doorway. He had heard their exchange.

"Anthea," he greeted her with a nod, moving aside so she could leave. He then turned to Mycroft. "She has a point, you know."

Mycroft rolled his eyes, the iceman façade returning. "Spare me." A moment passed between them. "Sherlolly?"

"Anderson started it," Sherlock replied with a quirk of his lips.

"Yes, very amusing, brother mine," Mycroft remarked. "Now, what have you found on Blackwood's person?"

"Before I tell you, I need to know if there was a connection between the two victims." Sherlock was all business now. "Specifically, I need to know if they were involved with Moriarty in any way before his death."

Mycroft slowly leaned back in his chair in surprise. "They paid him to not hurt their families, and in return, they were to turn a blind eye to his crimes." He took a sip of his tea. "Naturally, I did not approve of such an arrangement, but I let it be. Eventually, the pair of them ignored his wishes and had two of his accomplices arrested after having their families hidden away in safe houses."

"'U O Me' was carved into Blackwood's flesh. I believe it was a message for me," Sherlock explained. "Whoever this is wants revenge—they want to avenge Moriarty even though he killed himself. I can't help but think of what Eurus spoke of."

"Moriarty's brother—the stationmaster," Mycroft realised.

"Colonel James Moriarty," Sherlock stated. "Their parents were obviously fond of the name." His eyes locked onto his brother's in a fit of urgency. "We need to increase the security detail on Molly. Even you and I are in danger."

"Brother mine, as much as I would prefer to, I simply can't give Miss Hooper any more protection than what she has. Someone has gone above my head to ensure government members have around the clock security, because they believe it to be a conspiracy against us," Mycroft explained. "It's out of my hands, Sherlock. You'll have to find another way."

Sherlock backed away in frustration. "She needs to be looked after when I'm not with her, it's—" He had an idea. "Or I can be with her most of the time. She could stay with me." Granted, it was convenient, but Sherlock found more reasons than just her protection to have her live with him. He simply wanted her there.

"You just got the girl, brother, don't drive her away so quickly," Mycroft quipped.

As Sherlock headed out the door, he replied, "Don't keep Anthea waiting—she may not wait around for you forever."

Mycroft Holmes was speechless for once.

After snapping off her gloves, Molly tossed them in the bin. She hadn't found anything more unusual from Blackwood's autopsy, but her gut feeling told her something bad was going to happen. Hopefully, Sherlock was having more luck on his end.

"Anything you need, Molly?" Anderson asked, poking his head in through the doors. "Greg and I are headed back to the station since there's been nothing new to report."

"Thank you," she told him.

Anderson stepped fully inside the morgue. "For what…exactly?"

"I know you meddled with our personal lives—mine and Sherlock's. Normally, I would have been opposed to it, but you helped us. Well, you helped me with each push," Molly explained. "So, thank you."

A sense of pride swelled up inside him. "It was nothing," he replied sheepishly.

"No, I think in this case, a thank you is well-deserved…even from me," Sherlock suddenly spoke.

This had Anderson speechless. He quickly left the room with a nod to them, unsure of what to do with himself. He had helped them get together. It was an honor to have done so.

Back in the morgue, Molly smirked, her eyes sparkling. "Sherlock Holmes thanking Philip Anderson without so much as a snide remark? Hell must have frozen over."

"Not quite," his tone was serious now. "Molly, we need to pack your things."

"What? Why?" she asked.

"Moriarty's brother is behind all this—he's taking revenge on those who ever did his brother wrong," Sherlock explained. "If I remember correctly, not only did you help with faking my death, but you broke up with him too."

"Why would that last one factor in? He was only using me to get close to you," Molly pointed out.

Sherlock sighed. "I have to assume he had a real interest in you, Molly. He did use you to get closer to me, but even after the meeting he wanted, he stayed with you until you broke things off."

"I sure know how pick 'em," Molly muttered.

"Now, hold on a minute," Sherlock protested.

"Not you, Sherlock," she laughed. "I couldn't have chosen anyone better to give my heart to."

He wasn't sure he agreed with that sentiment, but it warmed him to know she thought so.

"How do you feel about staying with me at Baker Street until we can catch Moriarty?" Sherlock asked. "If not, I'll stay with you. Either way, I need to be there to protect you. Mycroft is unable to improve the security detail you already have."

"I'd love to stay with you," Molly smiled. "Let me finish up here, and we'll go back to mine and pack my things."

Author's Note: In case any of y'all haven't read the original stories, Colonel James Moriarty is actually the name of Moriarty's brother. Eurus only briefly mentioned him in TFP. I've been struggling a lot with this chapter, cause I've been concerned with how it will be received. It has been beta-read, and my beta didn't find anything wrong, but I still feel as though something isn't quite right here. Maybe I'm dragging it out too long? I have no idea. Anyways, I hope you enjoyed it!