Oh my gosh, guys! I'm so sorry! It's been like over a month? I won't bore you with excuses, but here's a larger chapter for you! I hope you like it!

Mary – bless her heart – had helped Molly change once again into something more suitable to go out on the town. As far as anyone else was concerned, Sherlock was taking her sightseeing.

In a dark green top and jeans, Molly suddenly felt more human. She wasn't wearing dresses anymore that left her legs untouched, but something that covered each leg, making them feel very separate. Her hair was up in a ponytail as Mary had insisted, saying it showed off her jaw line and would feel better to get her hair off her neck with all the walking she and Sherlock were sure to do.

Molly waited in the grand foyer moving her legs around restlessly. She was trying to get used to the feeling of the denim encasing them but she stopped when she saw Sherlock come around the corner wearing black trousers and a purple shirt. He looked nice to say the least.

"Are you still sure about this, Molly?" Sherlock asked when he reached her, playing around with one of his cuffs.

"Yes, of course," she replied. Why must he keep asking? He needn't be so worried about what she thought.

He nodded and reached for the door handle. He pulled open the large door and from there, they snuck out of the castle grounds into the city.

The prince/consulting detective and his guest walked along a clean street lined with townhouses. Aside from a few cars parked on the street, the place seemed deserted.

"You're very good at escaping the eye of the public," Molly commented.

"Force of habit," Sherlock quipped.

"So these people hired you to solve their problem?"

"To consult, yes. Though I usually solve it within a few minutes of being with them."

"How do you know that they don't just want to have royalty in their house or they're from another kingdom or some such thing?"

"It's all anonymous. John takes care of most of it. When I decide I will accept a case, then we inform them."

She nodded. As they approached the stoop of a dark brown townhouse with black shutters, she spoke again.

"John said he takes notes, and if I'm being John-"

Sherlock gave a short laugh as he took a step up to the house. "You're not being John; you're being yourself."

"So I shouldn't take notes?..."

"If you'd like." He knocked on the dark door.

"Weight loss, hair dye, botox, affair, lawyer," Sherlock fired out with a business card towards the wife. He spun around to the door. "Next!"

Molly looked apologetically toward the woman before running after the detective. He was so different in this element. She kind of liked it, liked watching his eyes as he took in the case and figured it out. She could see nearly everything in those blue eyes when he let his guard drop for those few moments.

After solving a few more disputes, Sherlock took her to the police station.

"I'm sorry, Sherlock. No new cases." The gray haired man stood at his desk, making some paperwork into a neat pile. He seemed to be in charge. The Dee Eye, she thought they had called him, was a fairly young man, probably about the same age as her or Sherlock, but had an older demeanor with his premature gray hair.

"Nothing, Lestrade? I would even be willing to take a six."

The man raised his eyebrows in surprise and glanced at Molly. "There's nothing above a three come in, yet."

A knock came at the glass door and the three of them turned. A dark skinned girl poked her head in, her curly hair bobbing with the movement. Molly briefly wondered what Meena's dark hair would look like if it was ever dry. "Sir, body washed up at the beach! Your highness," she addressed Sherlock without much respect in her voice.

"Be right there."

"Sounds like at least a six, maybe a seven." Sherlock smiled at Lestrade as the girl left.

"How can you tell?" he glared at the prince.

"Sally would have avoided me at any other costs. We'll join you."

The little parade pushed their way through the crowd huddling outside the crime scene tape. Lestrade led the way, flashing his badge, as Sherlock and Molly followed closely behind. Sherlock kept his head down and a hat covered part of his face. His hand held tightly to Molly's, making her heart beat quicken yet again as he dragged her past the herd.

When they got to the body, he let go and quickly went to work. He scurried around it, taking in information. Molly watched in fascination. The dead body was a young man in red swimming trunks. The puncture wounds of large teeth were on his side. She recognized the pattern. She had seen shark attacks before. But there was something curious about it…

"Okay, let my people at it now, Sherlock." Lestrade pulled him away after a moment.

"You can if you like, but I've got all I need. Thank you," he said rapidly.

Molly followed Sherlock as he walked away quickly, his head down. He moved around the crowd and away from their focus on the dead body.

Once far enough away, Molly asked, "Do you really have enough to solve the crime?"

He nodded. "I'll need to stop by the morgue later to verify, but yes, enough to have a lead, anyway."

"So where are we going?"

"The marina."

"Because someone must have taken the body out to sea."

She saw his concentration break for a mere second, blinking at her comment, but he didn't miss a beat. "Body. Why didn't you say the man or something that referred to him? Body sounds as if he was already dead when he left the land."

"Well, he was," Molly answered, thinking it was self-explanatory. "That was a bull shark bite; they don't attack humans. One bite would have been enough for it to know it didn't want any."

"Hm. Very good. Yes, I did figure the bite was most likely post mortem."

A smile tugged at her lips in pride.

Walking onto the white dock, Sherlock spoke again. "Tell me, what else did you see?"

Molly thought for a moment, trying to conjure up the details of the scene at the beach. "Well, his skin wasn't blue as if he had drowned. There was something under his fingernails like maybe a struggle occurred. Also some bruising on his upper arm."

Sherlock nodded. "Good." She rubbed her elbow awkwardly. "Ah, here we are." He stopped in front of a blue boat. "Excuse me!" he shouted, stretching his neck to look around the deck. Walking a few steps forward, they saw a man in khaki shorts and a button up Hawaiian shirt. The man dropped the load of rope in his arms.

"Whatcha want? I'm a busy man."

"I'm sorry, sir, but we'd like to ask you a couple of questions." Sherlock held up some kind of badge. The man's eyes widened and he stepped forward.

"Look, if this is about that kid down on the beach, I got nothing to do with it."

"You seem to know more than you're letting on, Mr. Carlson. If you could just answer our questions…"

The man huffed. "Fine. Come on board." He turned around and Sherlock and Molly followed him onto a larger part of the deck. There was a chair attached to the boat here and some other items. Mr. Carlson dragged an ice chest out, picked up a bucket, and threw the contents overboard before turning it upside down and sitting on it. Molly figured out quickly what had been in that bucket and it made her bite her lip in anxiety as her stomach churned.

Sherlock indicated for Molly to take the chair as he moved toward the cooler. "Thank you, Mr. Carlson."

"Can I ask one question first, Mr. His Majesty's Secret Service?" Well, now she knew what was on the badge he had flashed. Sherlock remained stoically quiet. "How'd you know my name already? You read some file on me?"

Sherlock gave a cold smile that somehow set Molly's heart a beat. "No, sir. Nothing like that." He paused. "Saw the name of the boat. The Carlson Catcher? Extraordinarily simple. A family name I assumed." Molly sucked in her lips as she smiled, watching Sherlock work was somehow exciting and comforting at the same time.

The boatman narrowed his eyes. "Alright. Ask your questions."

"As you correctly deduced, this is about the "kid on the beach". Did you know Benjamin Cross?"

"No, never heard of him. Just saw a commotion and asked somebody 'bout it."

"And can you tell us what you were doing last night?"

"Spent the night in with my family like most nights."

"Mind giving us an address and phone number, Mr. Carlson?"

"Sure." After he gave the details, Sherlock only asked a couple more questions. Most of them seemed simple, especially compared to the previous cases, but Molly assumed he had his reasons. He seemed to have a lot more information than she had originally thought. It was impressive considering they had only spent 5 minutes at the beach.

As they walked away, Sherlock spoke to her again. "We'll talk to one more person, then check the alibies. I texted Lestrade to let me know when they get the lab results in. They should be done about then. Stamford is usually quite capable."

Sherlock and Molly walked next to a red boat, bigger than the previous they had just visited. Sherlock slowed and approached the man tying the boat to the dock.

"Your boss, please," he demanded without bothering to show his "credentials".

The sailor looked at him confused, ran a tanned hand through sun bleached hair, and then called up to the deck. "Derek! Man's here to see you!"

Molly watched the young man. He gave off a casual feel. His mannerisms, tan skin and sun bleached blonde hair, khaki shorts and loose, blue button down. Yet she noticed his hands, mechanical in their movements. As a deck hand, he surely had done these tasks a thousand times before, yet he moved with a deliberate slowness as if knowing she was watching. She looked up to the deck just as a man leaned over it.

"Hello!" he smiled amiably, showing off a set of perfectly straight teeth. This must be the ship's owner. Awfully pale for a sailor, she thought. Particularly considering his dark hair and eyes. "Who might you be?"

Sherlock flashed his badge. "His majesty's secret service, just wanted to ask you a few questions, Mr…"

"Holden. Well, I suppose you'll want a place to sit. Come on board." He waved them up and they climbed the large ramp connected to the boat. Mr. Holden showed them to a few seats in the cabin. He left the door open as he sat down. "What can I help you with?"

Sherlock and Molly shared a small bench across from the shipman. Molly tried to ignore the way her body stiffened every time their arms brushed one another's. "Sir, do you know a Mr. Benjamin Cross?"

"Ben Cross? Yeah, he worked for me about a year ago. What's that boy gotten himself into?"

"I'm sorry to tell you this, Mr. Holden, but Benjamin is dead, washed up on the beach this morning." Derek Holden looked surprised. "I understand this may be a shock, but why exactly did you think he was in some sort of trouble when I asked you about him?"

The man pulled himself together. "Oh well, Ben was always pushing his limits. He was a nice boy, a hard worker, but young and arrogant. Thought he could go to the very edge of the fishing boundaries, getting in fights with other fishermen on the dock, then he started drinking. I had to get rid of him. That's when I hired Lyle." He nodded to the door to indicate the deckhand they had already met. "I just can't believe he's dead."

Despite Sherlock's offhand and distant character, he was quite good with people, Molly noticed. He handled Derek Holden's shock and Mr. Carlson's gruffness with a skill few people really possessed. Among all the other talents Sherlock revealed, this most surprised her. She found it very admirable.

Again, Sherlock asked for an alibi and other information from Mr. Holden. When they were done, they went back into town to check the alibis.

Despite the calm of the water, an anxiety filled the kingdom of Atlantica. Princess Molly had been gone for nearly 24 hours. She hadn't returned to Atlantica since King Triton had destroyed her grotto, and he was worried. He hadn't heard from the soldiers scouring the kingdom and a lost princess was bad. Even if she was only upset and needing time away, he needed to know. He was worried about her. He had enemies, enemies that would use her. He just hoped she would be found soon.

There was a knock on the door of the King's rooms. "Permission to enter, your highness?" A woman's voice called out.

"Granted!"

A mermaid with a blue tale that matched her eyes and a maid's cap on her head of beautiful black brown hair walked in. She held a silver tray with the King's lunch. "Irene, thank you." She placed it on the table he indicated with a wave of his hand, and waited to be dismissed. "Have you heard anything, any whisperings among the servants?" he asked absent-mindedly without much hope in his voice.

"No, sir. I'm sorry." Irene played her part well. Humble, quiet, and devoted servant.

King Triton sighed as he sat to his meal. "That's alright. While I am glad that you enlightened me to some of my daughter's activities, I can't help but wonder if my reaction has something to do with her disappearance." He seemed distant as he spoke and took a drink.

With his back to her, he didn't see her brief smile. "You mustn't blame yourself, your highness. Princess Molly is her own woman, makes her own choices. I only hope she is safe."

"Me too. You are dismissed, Irene." She bowed to his back and left with an evil smirk.

The King finished his meal and left for his throne room. From there he could at least make some decisions that would keep the kingdom running.

Soon after arriving, a guardsman announced the arrival of one of Molly's brothers. Prince Jason hugged his father; he hadn't realized how much of a toll this situation had taken on the King. He understood his worry. If anything happened to his little sister, he was ready to go to war, but his father looked weary after only a day.

King Triton swam to his throne to sit down and listen to his son's message.

"Father, I've had all my knights searching through the night. The whole kingdom is alert, but… I'm sorry, I still haven't heard anything. No one's found her, heard anything. There's no trace of her."

"I assumed as much." The King leaned forward in his seat, bracing himself and his sadness. "Jason, where is our Molly?"

"I don't know, Father. I- Father!" The King had suddenly started to fall out of his seat. Jason caught him and called out to the guards. King Triton was pale and felt feverish. "Help! Please! I think he's been poisoned! The King has been poisoned!"

Walking out of the Carlson home, Molly frowned. Both suspects seemed to have solid alibies. Both were with their families (who corroborated their stories) at home or at a restaurant.

"Sherlock, what are we going to do now?" Molly's frustration was revealed in her voice.

The corner of Sherlock's mouth turned up. "Not to worry, my theory is still being refined, but I think I see what is happening here."

"You do?"

"Yes, but we still need to go to the morgue." Sherlock looked at his phone. "And luckily I just received a text from Stamford. Let's go!"

Stamford, or Mike, was the pathologist hired by Glauwery's police force to look at possible homicide victims. Molly found him amazing. What a happy person for someone who constantly saw death! As he explained the wounds, she found his work exciting. Maybe even more so than the Prince's…

"Skin under the nails. We were able to pull DNA, but we don't have a match yet. Bruising on the arms indicates an earlier struggle. This wound, looks like just an oddly placed tooth? That'd be what killed him. Most likely a large knife."

"Like for cutting up fish?" Lestrade asked as he leaned over the body, analyzing the fatal puncture. They had met the detective inspector at the hospital just before coming into the morgue.

"Most likely."

"Right. Donavan get a search warrant for all the boats at the marina-"

"Not necessary, Detective," Sherlock interrupted. "Molly and I already went to the marina and interviewed a couple of suspects. If I may, I'd like to share with you what I think may have happened?" Without waiting long, he continued. "As you may remember, there was an accident involving Thomas Carlson and Derek Holden, two boat owners about a month ago. While he never told us specifically, I'm sure Mr. Holden will admit that this is why he fired Benjamin Cross, who had been drunk while driving his boat at the time. Information gained from these two sailors' wives told me that Cross was having a hard time finding work since the accident. Cross wanted his job back, was trying to get a good word from his previous employer, Thomas Carlson. Though, you'll find him to be a difficult man to get along with. So who does Cross go to? His former coworker and friend, Lyle. Lyle, tired of working twice as hard for Cross's mistakes and tired of being hassled, gets angry, abusive, stabs him, then takes his employer's boat out to sea to dump the body. The deck hand should just be getting home now. Check him and you'll find your DNA and your knife."

Everyone stared at Sherlock for a moment.

"Sherlock," Lestrade spoke up. "The theory fits, but… there's no viable evidence unless the DNA matches, and we can't check that unless we have something more concrete."

"Actually," Stamford said, "there is something else. I did find red paint stuck in the man's swimming trunks. I assume that will match Mr. Holden's boat, Mr. Holmes?"

Sherlock smiled. "Quite."

"Well let's get going then!" Lestrade lead them from the room.

Out in the hall, Sherlock turned to Molly. "This is usually when I leave, but… did you want to see them catch the killer?"

Molly gave a small smile, looked back to the morgue door, and said, "Yeah, I do."

King Triton lay in bed, weak to the effects of the poison. Where had it come from, and why now when he most needed to search for his daughter? Certainly, Atlantica was being attacked.

"Your highness," the maid Irene eased open the door.

"Oh, Irene, hello." There was a sadness in the King's voice.

"Sir?" She hesitated. "I have someone here to see you. He says he may know where the princess is."

King Triton's heart leapt. Could it be? Was there a possibility that Molly could be found? That alone would give him the strength to fight. His hope sunk however however when Prince James of Mori swam into the room with a smile that could curl seaweed.

"King Triton." Prince James bowed. Everything about the small merman mocked the King, disgusted him. He was paler since he'd last seen him, and the light in the prince's eyes was gone. How had he ever promised his daughter's hand in marriage to this sorcerer?

"Prince James." The king glanced at his maid, seeing how she watched the prince. "A spy then. You poisoned me; did you take my daughter too?"

The prince sighed. "I didn't take her. She came to me on her own. Not too happy after Daddy destroyed her precious statue." A moment passed. "She's safe. She's human, but she's safe. Apparently that man she saved? Prince of the land folk. What else can I say? Molly has good taste."

The king sat in silence. He was in shock, weak and growing weaker by the minute. He wanted to be angry, but how could he be angry with Molly now? She was always a little reckless, and he knew that.

"Well, as you may have noticed, you are dying. You have a few hours at the most. I thought I'd give you some peace though, letting you know about your daughter." Prince James picked up an apple from a tray of uneaten food. "There's something I need you to do for me though, King Triton. You're dying, your heir missing. It doesn't look good, but…" He conjured a scroll with a flourish of his wrist, the same scroll Molly had signed. "You see, in order for sweet Molly to become human, she had to sign this." He handed the scroll to the king. "If you read it, you'll see it's a contract saying Mori is back in the seven kingdoms and that I, Prince James of Mori is rightful heir to Atlantica. Everything is falling into place, except they won't accept me unless you say so. Unless you announce the things on this contract as binding."

The king sat there quietly. He was feeling worse, only a few hours felt like it could be any minute. How could this have happened? So quickly too. "Why? Why would I ever announce you as heir?"

Prince James tsked. "I thought it would have been obvious. You do this, and I'll save Molly from the humans. She'll have her tail back like that." He snapped his fingers. "And she'll be happy. I'll ensure it. Come now, King Triton. She needn't face the same fate as her mother now." There was a sincerity in his voice, the king had never heard. The prince was more believable now than he had ever been as Molly's fiancé. He didn't want to make this choice, but he couldn't let what happened to his wife happen again. Not to his Molly. Molly could be happy here, he was sure of it, even without him, even with Prince James. His thoughts were becoming cloudy, and so he agreed.

A good ways ahead of her, Sherlock turned his head slightly. "Fancy some chips?" he asked. Staying behind, Sherlock and Molly had slowly followed Lestrade and Donavon out of Lyle, the deck hand's flat. Molly had wanted to watch briefly while others on the police force looked for the murder weapon.

"What?" What were chips?

"There's a place around the corner, the owner always gives me extra portions." Sherlock reached the bottom of the steps and turned to go down the hallway to the left of the stairs.

Molly was halfway down and leaned against the banister. "Because you're the prince?" she teased, looking down at him with a grin. Throughout the day, they had gotten closer; she was in awe of him, but she felt like she could do a little teasing.

He stopped and looked up at her. With a mischievous smile, he said, "Got him off a murder charge."

Her face went blank and he smirked in response. She gave him a small smile, before pushing against the banister so she could stand back up and move down the stairs.

"Wait, don't-!" Sherlock said suddenly, and the wobbly banister fell over, Molly with it. She was prepared to hit the hard floor, but somehow in the panic, Sherlock caught her.

"Are you okay?" he asked. All Molly could do was nod. Her heart was beating too fast between what had just happened and how close they were. His blue eyes were staring into hers with so much concern, and she was leaning on him for support, still getting her footing. Once she did, she noticed he didn't let go. She swallowed, a blush forming on her face. She couldn't look away from those eyes. Fortunately, he didn't seem to be able to look away either. If they kissed right now, she wondered, would it fulfill Prince James' contract? Would it be a kiss of true love? When Sherlock caught sight of the blush on her face, she noticed his shoulders stiffen and his eyes dilate. He let go of her quickly and moved around the broken banister toward the front door.

"Still fancy some chips?" he asked as he opened the door. Molly frowned, looked at the broken wood on the ground, then followed after him.

Molly decided she did like chips; they were quite delicious. What she didn't like was the silence that had come between them since the banister incident. Sherlock leaned over his chips, keeping his face more or less hidden from the few people around.

"Sherlock?" she spoke quietly. "What was that all about, back at the home, with the stairs?"

"I most likely saved you from getting a concussion. You could just say thank you," he nearly snapped.

She frowned at him and ate another fry. "Thank you," she said, barely audible. Then her eyebrows furrowed and she looked angry. She picked up another fry and leaned in close, whispering her words. "Thank you for not giving me a concussion, but I think I would rather be being looked after by a kind Dr. Watson, than sitting here with you being angry at me for no reason." He looked up at her with a look of surprise. "May I remind you, I know all your secrets now? I could tell just about anyone I wanted. I don't want to have to sink that low, so I suggest you stop being angry at me for something I haven't done, and start- treating me- more kindly." She punctuated her last words, then threw her fry in its basket and got up to leave.

As she slipped through the front door, Sherlock looked after her with a sigh. "Oh wonderful," he said to himself before following after her.

Goodness, Molly could have a temper, and she knew it. Unfortunately, or maybe fortunately, she came down from it very fast. Why did she just do that, she complained to herself. She sat on a bench just outside the restaurant, frowning at the ground and waiting for Sherlock. She didn't have to wait long, the prince was hurrying out the door almost as soon as she sat down.

"Molly… I'm really bad at these things," Sherlock sighed and sat beside her.

"What things?" she asked.

Sherlock took a deep breath. "Emotions. People. Being social."

"You adjust fairly well."

"I've always had to. It still doesn't mean I'm any good at them… at expressing them."

There was a quiet moment. "Well try."

Sherlock stared at her. This girl… astounded him, confused him. She was still staring at the ground, but he saw her frown had let up.

"I- I think I- Molly, you- you astound me," he admitted. She finally looked up at him, surprised. "From the first moment I met you, I didn't know what to make of you. Behavior it can be easy to read, but not you. You show up naked in my secret lab, are perfectly social with my family, practically beg me to show you my secret crime solving, are observant and actually quite helpful, then completely clumsy and fall on me." Where on earth was he going with this? "Then you have the courage that only my mother seems to have which is to scold me for acting like an idiot. Who are you, Molly?"

She stared at him, looking deeply into his eyes. Taking a deep breath she responded, "I'm… me, just me."

"Well," Sherlock smirked. "I like just you, Molly."

Molly beamed. She was sure he only meant it in a friendly sense, but she had until sunset the next day to change that. At this speed, maybe she could do it. She tried to give herself hope.

Sherlock leaned forward and Molly was surprised. Maybe he did mean more than she had inferred. Was this it? Could she have really gotten him to kiss her so soon? She closed her eyes as his kiss landed on her cheek.

I will admit, this isn't my favorite chapter. I think that's because I find writing cases so hard and I felt like I went a little OOC, but I'll keep trying to improve and I hope you liked it anyway! I've had some wonderful reviews and I'm glad you all are interested in my story, so keep it up. ^_^

It might be a few weeks before I post another chapter, but after that I think I'll only have 1 or 2 more chapters left. Thank you guys for reading! This has been such an accomplishment for me to actually be motivated to the end and complete a longer, multi chapter story. Thanks again! See you next time!