Author's Note: Thank you to everyone who left reviews! I am grateful for your support.

Chapter 11-Family

John sat behind the wheel of the truck once more. He had changed clothes and even grabbed a quick hot shower before leaving but he was still chilled. He looked over at his friend and saw Sherlock had closed his eyes. He was obviously deep in thought but whether it was about the case or about Molly he didn't know. He was still surprised that it was Molly who had ordered Sherlock to leave her behind and question Father Clark.

He couldn't remember a time when Sherlock had been willing to walk away from the work for even a few minutes. How many times had Sherlock focused on a case when he should have been paying attention to something else? Christ, he had texted all through Mary's labor and even Rosie's christening. He drugged the entire family on Christmas so he and John could run off and confront Magnusson.

So John still found it surprising that his best friend was willing to skip interviewing Father Clark in favor of sitting by Molly while she slept. John had been fearful initially when he realized that Sherlock and Molly were actually going to try to make a go of a relationship. He loved Sherlock, he did, but he knew Sherlock better than anyone and truthfully, he wasn't sure Sherlock could do it. He had wanted Sherlock to have a relationship and experience love, but he was worried for Molly, that she would get hurt in the process. John wasn't worried anymore. Today his best friend had showed him that he had his priorities in the right place.

"She's going to be just fine," John said.

"What?" Sherlock said, snapping out of his thoughts.

"Molly, she's going to be fine. I know you both had quite the scare. I admit it scared the hell out of me too when I saw her go under, but she's a tough one. She just needed to warm up a bit is all."

"Yes, thank you," Sherlock replied.

Sherlock's curt reply told John that Sherlock did not wish to talk about it any further so he let it go. John figured Sherlock was in the process of trying to catalog the feelings and the fear he had just experienced. John wouldn't push it. He would give his friend the space to sort it all out.

John turned the truck into the driveway that would lead them to the kirk. The kirk was set far back from the road and trees had been planted to line the drive to make it more scenic. It was very beautiful. Finally they pulled up in front of the ancient cathedral. John could feel the sense of history and timelessness the stone structure presented.

Sherlock got out of the vehicle and forced his head back in the game, He had been struggling to concentrate on the case. Images of Molly disappearing right before his eyes kept flashing in his mind. He knew John was right, that Molly was perfectly safe now, but he still found it shocking just how much his existence now depended on his tiny pathologist. He wondered what Euros would say if she could see him now?

Sherlock took a moment to examine the surroundings of the cathedral before entering the building. Because the building was set so far back from the road it was very private here. The tree lined drive also served as a wall between the modern world and the ancient. The kirk was on a large piece of solid ground and many trees had been planted here. He knew there was a moor behind the kirk but it must have been a ways back because he could not see it from his current vantage point.

Finally they went inside to find Father Clark. The cathedral was very ornate inside with statuary and carvings, old stained glass windows. But there was no Father Clark to be found. They exited and saw that there was a house set farther back nestled in a small grove a trees. The house was deliberately set far away so that it would not take away from the beauty of the kirk.

Father Clark opened the door as soon as they knocked. The man was not what Sherlock had expected. He had assumed Father Clark would be an older gentleman, fatherly even. This man was quite the opposite. Father Clark looked to be in his mid-thirties. He was physically fit and rather good-looking. He wasn't a ladies man, not like Duncan was, not with that full head of ginger hair, but Sherlock could imagine a fair number of Father Clark's parishioners having a little crush on the man.

"Father Clark?" Sherlock asked.

"Yes, how may I help you?"

"I'm Sherlock Holmes and this is my associate, Dr. Watson."

"So you did come. Sir Richard told me he was traveling to see you to ask for your assistance. Welcome, do come in." Father Clark opened the door wide so they could enter.

Father Clark's home was tidy, if a bit Spartan. The man apparently lived a low-key practical existence.

"Please, sit down," Father Clark said, motioning for Sherlock and John to have a seat. Father Clark had a seat in the chair across from the sofa.

"How well did you know the victims?" Sherlock started.

"I knew Veronica and Lorna pretty well. Veronica had been volunteering here for years. Lorna came often regarding wedding business. As for Sarah and Jessica, I had pre-marriage counseling with both couples, as is customary. Each couple came twice to visit with me for about an hour. We covered the basics, roles within marriage, children, handling disagreements. Both couples were very much in love. When the police accused the first husband of murder I never believed it was him."

"Forgive me, for this will probably seem rude, but where you and Veronica Marsh in love?" Sherlock asked. "I do not ask out of curiosity. I ask because I believe all the women were murdered because they were in love, or engaged to be married. The killer seems to be trying to kill love itself."

Father Clark released a deep sigh. Then he nodded his head in the affirmative. "Please, I would appreciate it if you can keep what I tell you a secret, but yes, Veronica and I were very much in love. We had been seeing each other for a little over a year. We had managed to keep it out of the public eye for most of that time. Several days before Veronica was murderer I asked her to marry me. I was prepared to walk away from the church if she said yes."

"And did she?" John asked.

"She did." Father Clark's eyes began to tear up but he fought to keep the tears at bay. "I loved her so much. Three days after she said yes I wrote a letter informing my superiors I was leaving the church. I was going to mail it the next day. Then Veronica went missing. Just like that! One day she was there, the next she was gone. When they…when they found her body out on the moor I thought…" Father Clark's voice cracked as he forced out the rest of his words. "I thought God was punishing me. He took Veronica to punish me for my sins." Now the man broke down and covered his face with his hands.

"Did you ever mail the letter?" Sherlock asked.

Father Clark shook his head. "I couldn't after that. I know Veronica is in heaven. I will spend the rest of my days on earth atoning for my sins. This way, God willing, when I die I will see her beautiful face once more."

Sherlock sighed. This man was not a murder suspect. "I am very sorry for your loss," Sherlock said. "I will refrain from telling your story if possible. Understand, if I must for the sake of capturing the murderer I may have no choice, but at the moment I see no reason why this needs to be repeated."

"I understand," Father Clark said. "I appreciate your efforts, and I do hope you find the person who did this."

Sherlock and John finally left and returned back to the car. They pulled out of the drive and John turned to head back to Roane Hall.

Sherlock pulled out his mobile from his pocket when it buzzed.

"Hello, Mycroft," Sherlock said. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

John could hear Mycroft yelling through the phone, and he caught the smirk that was spreading across Sherlock's face.

"How could you…17,000 pounds…you spent 17,000 pounds…I'm telling Mummy!"

"Mummy is thrilled to have one of her sons finally getting married. She will hardly be mad at me for purchasing an engagement ring. Besides, it's my money, too. I know you are sole executor of the estate, but that is only because Uncle Rudy didn't trust giving a junkie access to a large sum of money. I am quite sure even Uncle Rudy would have consented to my being allowed to purchase an engagement ring for my fiancé."

"What about everything else? All the clothes? The jewelry? I thought it was up to the bride's family to purchase the wedding trousseau?"

"Molly doesn't have any family as I am sure you well know. Are you going to pretend like you didn't research her entire background when she first became a part of my life? Her father died several years ago and her mother died when she was just a child. All she has is a brother in America whom she sees every couple of years. I'm Molly's family now," Sherlock said, "and very soon you will be too."

"Fine, Sherlock. I understand why you did it, but did it ever occur to you to just ask me? If you had told me why you needed the money I would have given it to you."

"But where is the fun in that?" Sherlock said.

"After Sherrinford I thought we were past these…these games."

"Are you suggesting we actually behave like normal brothers? The kind who hang out and have a beer together after work? I know, we can paint our faces and go to a game one weekend."

"You made your point Sherlock. Please tell Ms. Hooper that I offered my congratulations."

"I am sure that will make Molly very happy to hear. Listen, while I have you on the phone, I need you to find all everything you can about Sarah Goodall, Jessica Mott, Veronica Marsh, and Lorna Grady. All of them are deceased. All of them have been killed by the same serial killer. I want everything, from where they were born, to what schools they attended to what their favorite kind of chips were. Everything."

"I am surprised you are asking for my help. You don't usually involve me in your cases."

"True, but this case feels different," Sherlock said.

"How so, brother mine?"

"Molly."

"What about Ms. Hooper?"

"Dr. Hooper," Sherlock corrected.

"Apologies. Dr. Hooper. Again, why does Dr. Hooper make this case different from your other ones?"

"I…it's…I have a feeling…a feeling that Molly might not be entirely safe here. I need to solve this case quickly."

"You have a 'feeling'. Good god, is this what having a goldfish does to a brilliant mind?"

"I have recently learn that it is possible to have a brilliant mind and a goldfish at the same time. You might want to give it a try."

"Goldfish?" John mumbled. "What in the hell are you two talking about?" Sherlock shushed him with a wave of his hand.

"I think not, brother mine. I will attain the information you seek and have it transmitted to you."

"Good-bye, Mycroft."

Xoxoxoxoxo

Molly got out of bed and stretched her limbs. She slid the towel off her now dry hair. She pulled on her slippers, walked over to the vanity, and ran a brush through her hair to get any knots out. She didn't feel like putting it in a ponytail or braiding it so she simply left it.

She went to the kitchen to make herself a cup of tea. She was feeling much better now. A rest had done her good. She searched through the cupboards and found a box of short bread. Perfect.

She poured a cup of tea and set two biscuits on the plate, ready to have a small afternoon snack.

A knock at the door startled her and she almost dropped her tea. Through the window she saw Ainsley Thurgood. She set her cup and small plate down on the table, tightened the belt of her robe, and opened the door.

"Lady Thurgood, what can I do for you?"

"Hello, Molly, may I come in?" She was holding a large basket.

"Yes, of course." Molly opened the door all the way. "Please excuse my appearance."

"No worries. You look lovely. Duncan told us what happened. I just wanted to check on you and make sure you were okay. Duncan was very distraught about your accident. Here, I brought a basket of goodies. I thought perhaps you might be hungry." She passed the heavy basket to Molly.

"Thank you, that is very kind of you. I am feeling much better. Please tell Duncan that it was not his fault. There's no permanent damage." Molly set the heavy basket on the table. "I was just about to have some tea, would you like some?"

"Oh no, that's all right. Duncan will be very happy to hear you are all right. He wanted to come himself but I dare say he was a little afraid to face you. It must have been very frightening for you."

"It was, but luckily Sherlock and John were there to help right away."

"Well, I am very relieved to hear that you are not harmed."

Both Molly and Lady Thurgood turned to the door when there was yet another knock on it. There was Charlie, holding a large bouquet of flowers. Molly quickly opened the door.

"Hello, Charlie," Molly said. "What are you doing here?"

"Hi again. My Grams made me bring you these. She wanted to thank you for your company yesterday."

"They're beautiful," Molly said. "Yellow roses are my favorite."

"Well, if you and Mr. Holmes get married here I will be sure to tell Grams to have lots of yellow roses on hand then."

Molly smiled. "That is very sweet of you. Do you want to come in for a moment?"

Charlie stepped into the kitchen. "Charlie, this is Lady Thurgood, and Ainsley, this is Charlie Eckhart, Agatha's grandson."

"Yes, I believe we have met several times in passing," Lady Thurgood said.

"We have. Usually when I am here setting up the floral arrangements for the wedding parties."

"Of course, it is nice to see you again. How is your grandmother?"

"She is doing well. She was very excited to meet Molly here yesterday as well as Sherlock Holmes. She found it rather exciting, especially this time of year when life becomes a bit boring. Now she can't stop talking about the possibility of being in charge of making yours and Mr. Holmes floral arrangements for the wedding. She thinks you will make a beautiful bride." Molly blushed from the complement.

Just then Sherlock and John pulled up to the cottage as well. Sherlock paused to look at all the vehicles in front of the cottage, as did John.

"Well, what is all this?" Sherlock asked, entering the house. "Molly, you're supposed to be resting."

"I was," Molly said. "Lady Thurgood was kind enough to bring a large basket of food after Duncan told her about what happened earlier today. Then Charlie brought me yellow roses from Agatha."

"What happened earlier?" Charlie asked.

"Molly fell into a bog. It was very scary for her," Lady Thurgood explained.

"Oh wow. Are you okay?" Charlie said.

"Yes, all better now," Molly said.

"Thank goodness," Charlie said. "The last thing we need around here is another bride dying out on the moors. There will never be another wedding here ever again if that were to happen."

"Bride?" Sherlock asked. "Why did you call Molly a bride?"

"Well, I just meant, when the time comes for you and your fiancé to have your wedding. The whole village is hoping you will get married here when the time comes. After all, you're famous. The story that would be in the papers would make for great advertising."

"Yes, I suppose it would," Sherlock agreed. "Still, Molly is not a bride yet. No date has been set and not a single thing purchased in anticipation of a wedding." Sherlock wrapped a protective arm around Molly's waist. "I don't want to rush Molly into anything. I want her to have all the time she needs to be sure that she really wants to put up with me."

"I don't think Molly needs as much time as you think," Ainsley said with a smile. "From what I can see, and mind you I have been doing this for ten years, I think you two are going to be very happy together.

"Forgive me, I don't mean to be rude, but Molly really should be resting still," Sherlock said.

"Of course," Lady Thurgood agreed. "If you need anything just press zero on the phone. It will connect you to the house at once."

"Thank you," Sherlock said.

"Well, I best be off. Glad you are okay. Grams is looking forward to your next visit."

"I'll try to see her tomorrow," Molly said.

John closed the door behind their unexpected guests. "Apparently you are very popular around here," John teased.

"Poor Agatha is just happy to get to talk to anyone. She is lonely," Molly said.

"Lady Thurgood probably wanted to make sure we didn't sue her," Sherlock said.

"I don't know," Molly replied. "She seemed genuinely concerned."

Sherlock pulled back the napkin covering the contents of the basket. It was filled with high-end delicacies.

"Wow," John said. "Wine, cheese, caviar, bread, and cookies."

"It looks like the basket they probably give a newlywed couple who stays here." Sherlock determined.

"I think you're right," John agreed. "Still, it all looks pretty good to me."

Molly finally sat down on the couch to enjoy her tea. John poured two more cups of hot water and tossed in two tea bags. He then passed one to Sherlock before taking his own.

"So what did you learn from Father Clark?" Molly asked, tucking her legs under her. Sherlock tossed a blanket over her before sitting down beside her. "Sherlock, thank you, but I'm not cold anymore."

"I know," he said. "Still, it's probably best for you to not get a chill. As for Father Clark, he is very much grieving the loss of Veronica Marsh. They were in love and he was preparing to leave the church to be with her. Now that she is dead, he is staying in the church though."

"He asked us to keep his story private if possible," John added.

"I can understand that," Molly said. "How terrible. He lost the love of his life and has to pretend that she meant no more to him than any other parishioner. How sad to have to grieve alone."

"That's his choice," John said.

"I guess," Molly replied, still feeling terrible for the poor man.

As always, I am dying to know what you think!