Sherlock stiffened, and his face froze. "Sherlock?" John looked over at his friend with concern. "I know this is serious, but we can get all of Scotland Yard in on-"
"Won't be necessary. I'm going out for a bit, if you don't mind," Sherlock interrupted abruptly. He smiled, nodded, and abruptly stood up. John furrowed his brow, watching Sherlock cross the kitchen calmly, collectively slipping on his coat and scarf. He turned his collar up and started heading for the door.

John's eyes widened and he stood up, crossing the floor quickly. "No, no, no, don't do that."
Sherlock looked over to him, his expression full of false innocence. "Do what?"
"Whatever you're about to do. You have that look on your face."
"What look? I have two looks?"
"Yes. The look, and then this look."
"Please elaborate."
"This look is the one you have when you're about to do something rash and irresponsible."
"I'm not about to do anything, John. Just me, going out to do some… shopping."

John rolled his eyes. "You? Shopping?"
"What's wrong with that?"
"First of all, you don't shop. Second of all, it's the middle of the night."
"Good, no line then!" Sherlock turned to the door and put his hand on the knob.
"Sherlock!" John exhaled in frustration. "You know what? Fine. If you're actually going shopping, which I doubt you are, then what are you in such dire need for?"
"Milk," Sherlock replied instantly, opening the door.
"Sherlock, are you kidding m-" John started angrily, but before he could finish his sentence, Sherlock was already out the door. "Bloody hell," he muttered, before returning to the kitchen counter to analyze the letter further.

Molly hummed softly to the radio, writing a report for the body she had just finished inspecting, her black pen gliding slowly across the page. She remembered that her boss had told her not to write in cursive, as he didn't have the eyesight to read it anymore, and now she had to print clearly. Her handwriting and time it took to write reports was heavily affected by this, but she did as she was told. After filing an autopsy report for a certain consulting detective three years ago, she was lucky to still have her job. She did everything her bosses and coworkers asked her to do without complaint. It was beginning to wear on her, but she figured she didn't quite deserve to complain.

Her phone buzzed, and she glanced over, but quickly fixated her gaze back on her report. All she had to see was the text signature SH to know it was from Sherlock. He was impatient, but after all she'd done for him (and her one complete meltdown she had, the only time she really yelled at him), he found a way somewhere inside him to wait at least eight hours before showing up at her workplace.

"Tell me why, ain't nothin' but a heartbreak," Molly sang softly, while signing the end of her report and beginning the basic information of the dead man on the next report when she heard the sound of keys jingling in a lock, followed by the sound of a rather forceful push of the wooden double doors. She looked up and turned down the radio when she heard quick footsteps approaching her. "Hello?" she called politely, trying to hide her frustration. She was positive that it was her boss, probably having fallen asleep past hours again and there to demand the rest of Tuesday's reports NOW, but was surprised to see the tall, slender figure of none other than Sherlock Holmes appear in her view.

"Sherlock, what are you doing here?" she asked, unable to hide her agitation. "I can't help you right now and-"
"Molly, look here," he interrupted, holding a finger up in between his eyes and crouching over so that he was eye level with her.
"Sherlock, what-"
He pulled a flashlight out of his pocket and shined it in her face. She blinked and turned her head away. "Sherlock!"
"Okay, reflexes, normal. Attitude… slightly out of the ordinary but seeing as to how your date stood you up five hours ago and you're still working at 1:30 in the morning, it's normal. Good, you're not drugged." He slipped the flashlight back in his pocket. "So, since there's a couple that recently moved out of the flat above us, there's an available space. You'll need to stay there for a while."

"Wh- what are you talking about?" she asked, now more confused than irritated. "I can't move out, I have… I have a cat, and-"
"Then the government will pay for the best kennel in London for as long as needed. You can't be living in your apartment, not at this moment in time."
"Why not? Did something happen?" Molly stood up, and then her expression changed to horror and anger. "Did you burn down my bloody kitchen again?!"
Sherlock rolled his eyes. "Of course not! And I told you, I didn't burn down your kitchen. Your cat tipped over my asbestos candles and matches onto your gas stove."
"You can't create candles out of-"
"Obviously."
"Then why were you- okay, why do you want me to leave my apartment then?" Molly demanded.
"I can't answer that."
"Why?"
"Because I know your emotional structure. Hearing the actual explanation would throw you into hysterics, which isn't needed. By the way, do you mind having bodyguards that are male, or are you a bit gender sensitive?"
"Sherlo… what would I need bodyguards for? And what do you mean hysterics?"
"Oh, for God's sakes," Sherlock muttered, before giving up and looking at her with his most convincing apologetic face. "Molly, I didn't burn down your kitchen. I burned down your loft."
"Sherlock!" Molly's face turned bright pink. "Wh- why were you even in there again? I told you, my home isn't a lab! My loft?"
"Now don't worry, I'm getting it all fixed up. You won't even know the difference when it's ready again."
"That doesn't matter, what were you doing in my bloody apartment?!" Molly's voice rose, something that Sherlock had only heard from her five times before. Two of them were before his faked death. The other three were after, but this one was definitely the least frightening one.
"I'm sorry."
Molly thought a moment, and then her eyes flashed with recognition. "You're lying."
"I am not!" Sherlock replied instantly. The only thing he could think of was why does she have to be that smart?
"Yes, you are. You were about to tell me that the bodyguards were for paparazzi, which I might have believed, except that you haven't solved a case in two weeks."
Sherlock's eyes narrowed at the statement. Before he could speak, she stopped him. "Why do you want me to leave and stay with you?"
He sighed and placed his hands on her shoulders, making the most direct eye contact he could with her. "Listen, Molly, I can't tell you everything, I honestly can't. But you can't stay in your apartment for a while. It's far too dangerous for you to do that. And the reason why it's dangerous is more than likely because of me, so I'll need you to stay relatively close to me so that I can ensure nothing happens. I promise I'll have it figured out as soon as possible, but for now you just have to trust me."

Molly looked back at him, and though she was a bit shocked, she did trust him. More than anyone, in fact. He may have been absolutely insane at times, driving her up the wall with his experiments and the way he treated her but she knew he was trying to protect her and though he wasn't giving her all of the truth, he was giving her enough to understand that she needed to listen to him. She sighed and looked down, then back up. "Okay. I'll go with you."

Sherlock smiled. "Excellent. You finish up here, and I'll call Mary and a cab to help you go get your things."
"Um… okay." Molly had a million objections, most of them involving how rude it was to call someone up in the middle of the night for a vague reason and have them travel, but she didn't argue with him. He had a determined look in his eye and she knew it was no use.

She stared as he walked out and she returned to her desk, picking up her pen once again and turning the radio up slightly. "I want it that way," she sang, the song now finishing on the station.

I win worst multitasking fanfiction writer of the year, I'm so sorry it took me so long! I suppose school took more out of me than I thought, but I'm back. Over my break coming up I'll be able to write more chapters. I don't know when I'll release them to you all, but I hope you like them and continue to read! Thank you so much for being patient, it means a lot!