The next few weeks were some of the best of Molly's life. True, it wasn't perfect, but all in all, things were quite nice. Sherlock acted the same as always when they were in public, he had no interest in public displays of affection. However, when they were alone he was completely different. Sherlock Holmes, some years later than most, had discovered the joy of sex. He was curious and eager to experiment. Molly was a very willing participant. They were both trying to figure out how to navigate their relationship as well. Sherlock had done excellent work at keeping his more vicious comments to himself, but he still had trouble at times understanding what could be hurtful.
He learned that it was never a good idea to comment about a woman's weight the hard way. One evening as Molly sat astride him, he happily noted that she had gained at least three pounds. He was startled when she leapt off of him and glared at him. Asking her if this irrational outburst was related to her menses did not help matters and he found himself being shoved out of bed. She then dragged him across the room and pushed him out the door. As she slammed and locked the door, he finally realized perhaps he had done something wrong.
He wrapped a robe around himself and sat waiting in the sitting room. He knew Molly wouldn't stay mad for long. After a moment, he put the kettle on. He was pleased that the shriek of the kettle worked its magic and drew Molly out of her room. He fixed two cups of tea while she stood in the doorway frowning. He handed her tea to her after he properly prepared it. He watched her as he sat back down in his chair. She sighed and came to sit in the other chair. Molly decided it was time to share some vital information with the man she was sleeping with.
"Sherlock, it's obvious your brother or someone failed to share some key facts of life with you. Firstly, never ever tell a woman that she has gained weight, the few times it might be a welcome observation are extremely rare. Also, don't ever ask a woman if she's acting unreasonable because of her 'menses'. Women rarely like to discuss hormonal fluctuations unless they bring it up first. Oh, while we're at it, never ask a woman if she's pregnant or congratulate her for being pregnant unless she tells you first. I suppose I'll think of some more eventually, but that should be a good start." She leaned her head back and closed her eyes, breathing in the steam from her tea.
"Ah. I suspect John may have been remiss in his instructions as well, though in fairness, I often wasn't listening. And Mycroft is among the last individuals I would ever tolerate any advice from." He looked down at his hands, then back at her face. "I'm sorry Molly" he said.
She smiled back at him. "It's okay; I know you weren't trying to be mean. Besides, sometimes I need to remember to be less sensitive. We'll both just have to work at it." She took another sip of tea and then crossed the room to stand in front of him. He pulled her on to his lap and kissed her. After a moment, Molly stopped. "Actually, I've noticed that you've put on weight as well. Your cheeks are filling out a bit" she said as she stroked his face lightly.
He made a face. "Yes, well Ingress is quite dogged in her quest, I remain unable to thwart her ongoing quest to force feed me."
Molly laughed and kissed him some more. After a while, she whispered in his ear "Shall we return to our previous activities?" He responded by picking her up and carrying her back to bed.
Of course, Sherlock was also busy with other things besides cataloging Molly's many delighted reactions to his ongoing exploration of sex. Somehow, their duel had made Sherlock and the Marquis de Carabas tolerate each other. They would never be bosom companions, but had stopped most of the tireless sniping at each other. While it was a relief to no longer fear them killing each other, their new cease fire did present some problems for Molly. Now she had to deal with both of them instructing her in the art of fencing and various forms of self-defense.
They had moved the training arena back to the gymnasium that was attached to the house. It was bad enough when only Sherlock was yelling at her clumsy footwork. Now there were two of them pointing out her every mistake. Molly tried to keep Ingress around during training sessions. Both men were slightly better behaved in her presence. Ingress also seemed to enjoy learning how to wield a sword and throw knives. She had alarmingly good aim for a six year old. Molly was improving, but Sherlock still felt she was far too nice to ever be any sort of a decent fighter. He desperately hoped she would never have to use the skills he was teaching her.
One evening, a month or so after having begun the newest phase of their relationship, Sherlock and Molly were about to set out for the Floating Market to seek out clients. They had only just left, when the Marquis de Carabas materialized next to them. Sherlock huffed and glared at him. "What are you doing here?" he asked.
"Helping you. I just remembered that to get to this particular market, you will have to travel through some unpleasant areas. I anticipated my offer being welcomed with open arms, and yet I am met with suspicion, it's a wonder I offer to help anyone" grumbled the Marquis.
"Well, which way do we need to go?" asked Molly before either man could continue to bicker.
"Through some caves, follow me." The Marquis led on through tunnels and passages neither Sherlock nor Molly had ever seen before. They were deep underground, in ancient caverns. Painted on the walls was a wild assortment of figures in bright colors. Molly stopped to look at some of them more closely. They didn't look like any kind of cave art she had ever seen in her art history textbooks. Sherlock and de Carabas were arguing about something pointless. Molly had been ignoring them for the last ten minutes as they bickered. Both men were so busy fighting that neither had noticed that Molly was falling behind them. Molly was studying an image that sort of looked like an orange and purple train when she felt a sharp sting behind her ear.
"Ow, Shit!" she exclaimed. She swatted at her ear, thinking it was an insect. She found a small dart instead. She looked at for a fraction of a second before collapsing to the ground.
Sherlock was still deeply focused on his current argument. "It's obvious that Richard the Third had nothing to do with the disappearance of the princes, any idiot could see it!"
"Hah! It just so happens that I've personally spoken with Tower guards who were there and saw the boys being bricked up!" howled the Marquis.
"Yes, well given your flair for the dramatic, I understand this is a difficult request, but please, stop being so utterly ridiculous!" smirked Sherlock.
"Me? Dramatic? Speak for yourself!" sneered de Carabas.
Sherlock stopped dead in his tracks. Something was wrong. "Where's Molly?" He looked all around him, no Molly. He ran back the way they had come. It wasn't long before he found the distinctive marks of a person being dragged away. He immediately spotted the discarded dart and a paintbrush with bright green paint still dripping off. He glared at the Marquis.
De Carabas folded his arms across his chest. He was deeply annoyed with himself; the whole purpose of him coming with them was to prevent such an occurrence. "Hell's teeth, they've got her" he muttered.
"Who?" demanded Sherlock.
"Feral cave children" responded the Marquis.
Sherlock stared at him for a second before lunging at him. He threw a few frantic punches that the Marquis was easily able to dodge. "Stop lying!" shouted Sherlock as he artlessly swung at the other man.
The Marquis leapt to the side and quickly kicked Sherlock's legs out from under him. Both men were panting as they lay sprawled on the ground. "I'm not lying!" Sherlock snorted with derision. "Alright, not right now at least! These caves are filled with lost children, all the damn paintings are at knee height, or didn't you deduce that?" sneered de Carabas. He stood up and adjusted his coat. "That's why I offered to accompany you; the caves can be dangerous, especially to females. They're always looking for a mother, and clearly they decided Molly was a good choice."
Sherlock was overcome with indecision, whether or not to resume hitting the other man or to believe him. The Marquis was walking away, following the drag marks. Sherlock chose to follow along. A few feet back it was easy to see that the Marquis was right about the children. There were tiny footprints in the soft dirt. The drag marks led to a crack in the cave wall. Sherlock waved his torch inside the crack, a hail of tiny darts shot out. He leapt back and none of the darts were able to puncture his coat.
The Marquis tried now. "Listen you brats, give her back right now! She doesn't belong to you" he said firmly. This was met by some rude noises and childish giggles. Both men faced each other, one on either side of the crack. They glowered at each other. Suddenly, there was the sound of rushed whispers and a flurry of movement from within the crack in the cave wall. The children were dragging their prize deeper into their lair. The Marquis didn't hesitate, and plunged in after them with Sherlock right behind him. The children could be heard but not seen. The crack widened, but the passageway was full of fallen rock. The children knew where they were going and were able to move quickly through narrow spaces. Sherlock and de Carabas were having a more difficult time. Neither man was feeling particularly inclined to help the other. Odd whispers and giggles bounced off the cave walls, further disorienting the two men. After clambering over another pile of rocks the men stopped. Separate branches opened up, with no sign of which way the children had carried their prize.
Sherlock paused to catch his breath. He looked murderously at the Marquis, who did not look nearly as afraid as he should in Sherlock's opinion. "You did this, didn't you? You set us up" hissed Sherlock.
The Marquis, like all bad men accused of something they had no hand in, was deeply affronted. "I most certainly did not! Why the hell would I want those savages to steal Molly?" Sherlock was not going to admit it, but the man did have a point. He studied the ground carefully.
"There's a spot of fresh green paint here, let's go" he barked.
The men raced down the cave tunnel. The ceiling became lower till both had to nearly crawl. The disturbed dirt told Sherlock they were still clearly on the right track. Suddenly, the tunnel ended and the men tumbled out into a brightly lit arena. They shielded their eyes as they struggled to stand. The first thing Sherlock noticed was that Molly was there, still asleep and propped up against an ancient pram. She was guarded by a ring of little boys and girls wielding bows with arrows drawn. Sitting on a throne made from discarded toys was a chubby little boy who looked to be about Ingress's age. He wore a leather loincloth that had a toy pistol tucked in the side. Around his neck were grimy strands of string, each bearing a plastic piece of junk. On his head was an elaborate crown made of the heads of action figures. There were numerous other children, both boys and girls filling the huge space. Every child was painted with elaborate symbols. And every child was armed with something deadly.
The little boy in the crown stood on his chair and pointed at the intruders. "No fair! She's ours! Finders keepers." He stuck his tongue out and waggled his fingers in his ears. The other children chanted "Finders Keepers! Finders Keepers!"
The Marquis stood and offered a hand to Sherlock, who grudgingly accepted it. Sherlock tried a stern approach; it had worked on him when he was that age. "Now see here. People can not own other people. She is my friend and does not wish to stay here with you."
The leader of the cave children crossed his eyes and repeated in a mocking tone "She is my friend and does not wish to stay here with you." The other children howled in delight.
Sherlock clearly had no experience with children. He shouted "Stop that at once!" All the children in the cave hooted and jumped up and down, repeatedly shouting "Stop that at once! Stop that at once!" They began laughing, pointing at the two men and making silly faces.
The Marquis sighed, he pulled Sherlock close and hissed in his ear, "Do you have a better plan? Or would you like me to try?" Sherlock narrowed his eyes and folded his arms across his chest.
De Carabas stepped forward. "I understand that you are seeking a mother, is that why you have taken her?"
The leader was scratching his scalp with alarming vigor. He flicked what he found at Sherlock before speaking. He spoke in the imperious tone of an absolute ruler. "She will be our Mummy. She will cook our breakfast and fix our tea and play hide and seek and read us stories and tuck us in every night and..." He paused, his eyes growing wide with bliss, smiling beatifically, "And she will kiss our boo-boos." The other children fell to their knees, whispering "kiss our boo-boos" repeatedly.
The Marquis looked unimpressed. "Yes, but you know, Mummy will make you do other things too."
The tiny chieftain scoffed. "Ha! No one can make me do anything." He jutted his little chest out and stuck out his lower lip.
"If you want a Mummy to do those nice things, she will make you do other nasty things. Mummy will make you wipe that mess off your faces you know. And take away those nasty bows and arrows. And make you wear trousers like a good little boy. And make you eat your veggies, put away your toys, take a bath and go to bed early with no cake." The Marquis paused then and made sure to pronounce this last sentence carefully, stressing each and every word. "And Mummy will make sure you do your homework." The children began to look worried. They had heard of homework and knew it was something bad.
Their leader tried to remain resolute. "No she won't! She can't make us!" he pouted, chubby hands on his hips.
The Marquis smiled. "Oh yes she can, that's what mothers do, right?" He elbowed Sherlock who nodded solemnly.
Heated whispers were now filling the cave. Some of the children had put their bows down and were looking fearfully at Molly. One little girl was sobbing "I don't wanna do no homework!" A fight had broken out between a few other children who were pushing each other and shouting. Some children could be seen creeping away. The little leader frowned and looked across the cave. He took a plastic whistle from around his neck and blew it, silencing all the children. He raised his arms and surveyed the crowd.
He looked at Molly and made a face. He sniffed and made an elaborate show of waving one hand while pinching his nose with the other. "She's stinky. We don't like her. Get lost and take your stinky friend!" He made a ferocious face at the two men, sticking out his tongue and baring his teeth. The other children began chanting "Stinky! Stinky! Eww!" They copied their leader's facial expressions and made gagging noises.
Sherlock strode forward and picked up Molly. The cave children were working themselves up into a frenzy now, shrieking their childish insults and sticking out their tongues. The little boy stood on his throne looking at them with a frown. He pointed a grubby finger at a far corner of the cave, where a larger opening could now be seen. Sherlock hurried toward the exit, closely followed by the Marquis. The howls of the children could be heard for a long time.