Hey there readers! I have to say this was a pretty slow update for me. But I wasn't being lazy. My husband was actually sick, so that took up a lot of the week. Must have my priorities! :) But anyway, here I am now, and here's chapter two. Thanks so much for all the follows, wow! I was super excited to get close to 100 after only the first chapter! :D And I think it's so funny that I've gotten quite a few comments on here and on Tumblr about "I'm not usually into AU Sherlolly" or "I don't usually read period Sherlolly." And I have to smile because, guess what? Me neither! I'm not usually into reading or writing about them outside of the lovely settings that we're given in the actual show. But, as I said before, that Benedict in the water picture just got the wheels turning! So I appreciate that some of you are sticking with me even though this isn't your typical Sherlolly reading material. Let's branch out together lol! Just one other little note, I went back and slightly changed the spelling of the Holmes' country estate. So in this chapter, you'll notice there's now an E at the end.

This chapter will be a bit more of setting the stage for the characters and their dynamics. And it'll also clue Molly in to how Sherlock can REALLY be. She saw a pretty pleasant Sherlock in chapter one, nothing too much out of the ordinary. But she's about to see his slightly bad side this time. It had to happen at some point haha! I'm definitely enjoying writing this, and I hope you guys all like this latest installment. See you down at the bottom! ;)

Sherlock sighed loudly, doing nothing to conceal his irritation.

"Oh, stop it, Sherlock! You've endured far worse!" his mother scolded. "Did you honestly think I wasn't going to be throwing any parties this summer?"

"Oh no, I assure you, I quite expected it. Thus my sigh of frustration at being correct." Sherlock threw his mother a sardonic smile.

"You enjoy dancing, why are you complaining?" Lady Holmes asked in exasperation.

"It's not the dancing I dislike. It's the people, and the conversation, and the finding out how dim-witted all such people are. And then there's the ridiculous expectations." Sherlock got out of his chair and moved over to the window.

"Ah yes," Mycroft Holmes chimed in. "How disappointing for the ladies to find that their dance partner couldn't be less interested in them."

Sherlock shot his brother a glare. "Yes, how fortunate for you, brother, that you no longer need to impress young ladies. A weight off your mind, I'm sure. Perhaps that's why you bothered to wake up one morning and take those blessed vows!"

Mycroft scowled at Sherlock.

"That's enough, boys!" Lady Holmes sighed. "You're old enough to behave like grown men."

"Where is Anthea?" Mycroft asked, looking up from his desk.

"She went riding with Mary this morning, I believe...Poor dear Mary. Perhaps she'll be ready to show her face again once I throw a party."

"Don't you mean, perhaps you'll be ready for her to show her face?" Sherlock asked.

It was his mother's turn to scowl at him now.

"If you want to restore her previous position in society, it would be somewhat unwise to forever hide her away. What is it you're afraid of? Nobody will speak to you ever again?" Sherlock asked flippantly as he took up his violin and bow.

His mother's voice hardened as she answered him. "Perhaps, Sherlock, it is my fear that I will make an impact on the sort of lady that would be willing to marry into our family! If you had any sense about you, you would be concerned about the very same thing!"

"I think you know very well that I don't care about such a thing, and never will," he said casually, as he began playing the instrument and turned his back to both his family members.

Lady Holmes let out a huff and began fanning herself. "It's no wonder my health suffers! The two of you will certainly be the death of me...one way or another!"

Molly set some of her father's freshly cleaned tools out, ready to be carefully packed away in his case. Dr. Hooper was going out to see Lady Holmes, and these days, Molly always worried when her father left the house.

He wasn't the sort of man to lay down and give up in the face of illness though, and Molly hesitated to ask him to do so. If this made him happy and he still found joy in caring for the health of others, even when his own was failing, then so be it. She worried for him, but didn't want to take away his work. The work mattered so much to him; it was a source of much pride and satisfaction. And she'd recently learned he wasn't the only man who felt that way.

It had been a fortnight since her strange encounter with Mr. Holmes at Seaborne. Since then, the buzz around town had spread, and everyone was talking about both of the Holmes men being back. Most of the talk was naturally about the younger Mr. Sherlock Holmes. He was intriguing, handsome, rich...and unmarried. All of those things made him a more than fascinating topic of conversation. At twenty eight, he was rather old to have remained single. There was plenty of speculation on that topic, of course. Mostly, people were guessing that it stemmed from his choice in work. It wasn't until some days after Molly's meeting him that she learned of his being a detective, and having worked with Scotland Yard for some time now. She'd heard some of the ladies in town discussing it while running a few errands at one of the local shops, but the conversation didn't offer her much information on that topic. The ladies weren't at all interested in dwelling on his detective work. They quickly shifted the focus back to his fortune and looks.

Molly had faded into the background as the women continued to talk. She couldn't deny the fact that he was beautiful to look at, but what she was absolutely dying to know more about was his work with Scotland Yard. No man of his birth and fortune had to do that. Which meant that he must do it simply for the enjoyment. She'd never heard of such a thing before, and it fascinated her. She could only imagine some of the horrors and atrocities he'd encountered. And she had to admit, that fascinated her as well. What she wouldn't give to hear him talk all about it...

And of course, it wouldn't hurt to have the enjoyment of his eyes focusing on her once again. Recalling the way he'd looked at her by the pond made her lips curl in a secret smile. She didn't fool herself into believing that he'd demonstrated any sort of real interest, but that didn't change the fact that his gaze was one of the most intense and beautiful she'd ever seen. She kept picturing it in her mind, and hoping that she'd be able to see it again before long.

"And what exactly are you smiling about?" Nicholas Hooper asked with a sly smile of his own as he entered his office.

Molly's eyes shot up from the tools in her hands, and she felt her cheeks instantly get hot. "Oh, nothing...nothing really." She pressed her lips together to prevent the involuntary smiling as she looked back down at the table.

Her father chuckled softly. "Alright, whatever you say, my dear." He knew her well enough to know she was lying, but didn't press her any further. She was a grown woman now, and he couldn't very well demand to know everything. "Are we prepared for the day?"

"Almost, father, yes. Just a moment, and I'll get my wrap," she said with a nod and smile. "Why don't you sit down and rest while I finish getting ready?" Her face turned to worry as her father began to cough into his handkerchief.

"I'm fine, I'm fine! No need to fuss," he said with a wave of his hand. "I'll just step outside and enjoy the sunshine while I wait for you."

Molly watched him leave the room while he continued coughing a bit. This cough had been going on far too long, and it was becoming more bothersome for him. She knew what it meant...but she didn't want to know what it meant.

Molly took a deep cleansing breath, trying to clear her mind of the troubling thoughts, then she put the last of her father's tools in his bag. She took the neatly packed leather satchel and went to fetch her wrap.

"You're an excellent rider. I'll enjoy having you here this summer!" Mary said happily as she and Anthea ascended the steps of Seaborne.

"I'm glad to be here. I think I'm going to enjoy a break from the city. I need some fresh air and some quiet. There's so much noise and activity in London, I can barely hear myself think! But Mycroft is rather busy with business and I did want to stay with him."

"Well of course you did," Mary said sweetly, and hooked her arm into Anthea's. "Not easy to leave your new husband, I'm sure. Though I can imagine he's not always easy to live with."

Anthea smiled shyly and looked down.

"It's alright, I know them as if they were my own brothers. You can always confide in me, I hope you know. We are family now, after all."

"I'm glad, Mary, really I am. I appreciate your friendship, and concern. It is, naturally, a bit difficult to speak to Mycroft about my feelings at times."

Mary laughed a little as they stopped at the large door. "With those men, yes I suppose it would be difficult. But don't be afraid. Sometimes the Holmes just need a bit of a...push." She winked at Anthea.

The two woman entered the home and a servant collected their coats and gloves. They were greeted by the sound of some aggressive violin music. Mary raised her eyebrows at Anthea and smiled as they made their way into the sitting room.

"Ah, there they are! Anthea, you look absolutely exhausted! Perhaps you should have a seat." Lady Holmes gestures to the couch nearby.

"Thank you, I'm perfectly well." Anthea gave her mama-in-law a sweet smile, knowing that the concern for her wellbeing stemmed from the hopes of another little Holmes in the not too distant future. Her gaze shifted to her husband, who had not yet looked up from his desk to acknowledge her.

"Has anyone called for tea?" Mary asked Sherlock.

Sherlock looked at her in the midst of continuing to play his interment. "I asked for it. It'll arrive soon enough...A shame Watson won't make it till much later."

"Ah yes, we will so enjoy having such a sweet and cheerful man about the house, won't we ladies?" Lady Holmes asked the room, and gave both her sons pointed looks. Neither one of them responded.

"I look forward to meeting him," Mary remarked as she took a seat by the window.

"Oh, I do keep forgetting you've not met Dr. Watson, Mary! I believe you were...otherwise engaged when he'd returned from the war. And Sherlock keeps the poor man so busy, he's not had a chance to spend much time with us here at Seaborne!"

"Do not turn him into some sort of a victim! Watson enjoys solving crimes, Mother. Not that he does much of the solving, I suppose." Sherlock set his violin down as he saw the tea being brought in.

"Will you have tea, darling?" Anthea sweetly asked her husband.

"Perhaps in a while," Mycroft answered her flatly, barely making eye contact.

Anthea hesitated for a moment, perhaps waiting for anything more than the measly amount of attention she'd just been granted, then took a seat next to Mary and settled in. Mary reached over on the couch and gave her hand a small pat. Anyone could see that Anthea was making an effort, but it wasn't being very well received.

The four adults had their tea in the sunny room and didn't speak much till Lady Holmes rang the bell for assistance.

"I'm going to retire to my room. Dr. Hooper should be here shortly, and I'll see him upstairs," she explained to the servants who came in.

The two women began helping Lady Holmes up. She soon disappeared out the door, and was heard ascending the stairs with some difficulty.

Sherlock groaned as he let his head fall against the back of the chair he sat in. "How long have I been here? How much more of the summer is left?"

Mary giggled. "You've been here very little time, and you have a very long way to go. How does that suit you?" She smirked at him.

"Do not spare my feelings, cousin," he answered with a playfully raised eyebrow.

"Why would I? You rarely bestow that sort of luxury on the rest of us!" she laughed.

"This summer will be tedious enough. I don't believe we need to hear your constant complaining, Sherlock," Mycroft added from his desk in the corner.

"I think it's lovely here," Anthea said with a pleasant smile.

"You may certainly stay as long as you wish," was her husband's answer as his head dipped back down to the work at his desk.

Anthea's smile fell away slowly and she looked at her folded hands in her lap.

Mary had to bite her tongue. She knew she was the only one in this household aware of the difficulty Anthea was experiencing being Lord Mycroft Holmes new wife. Sherlock cared nothing for such soft feelings, Lady Holmes was at most concerned about how soon a grandchild would be produced, and Mycroft himself was especially disconnected from his spouse. Mary wondered how she would bear to watch the whole sorry dynamic all summer long. She hoped that this Dr. John Watson was as kind and reasonable a gentleman as everyone claimed him to be. Perhaps he would bring a bit of balance to the household. Though based on his close friendship with Sherlock, Mary still harbored her doubts.

Molly walked up the stone steps with her father and felt her heart rate increase steadily. She told herself it was silly. She'd only met Mr. Holmes once, there was nothing to expect, perhaps they wouldn't even see him, and she had no real reason to be nervous. But for all her internal convincing, she was still having a difficult time calming down.

"Are you quite alright, my dear?" her father asked with a frown as he examined her expression and body language.

"Oh, yes, of course!" Molly laughed nervously. "Why wouldn't I be alright? I'm perfectly fine!"

Her father smiled, trying not to laugh at her in return. "Oh good...lovely." The man knew his daughter, and was far from convinced.

A servant received them at the door and ushered them in. Molly walked through the large hall and heard beautiful violin music as they went up the stairs to call on Lady Holmes. She'd rarely gone inside Seaborne before. Lady Holmes hadn't required visits much, and in the past Molly hadn't felt as compelled to accompany her father either, since his health had been better.

Dr. Hooper examined Lady Holmes and assured her that the gout was subsiding for now. He encouraged her to avoid rich foods and wine, though he'd said such things to her in the past and was sure she'd ignored his advice. He also gave her a mineral mixture to soak with in the bath.

"Do try to keep it elevated. You'll only irritate it if you walk on it excessively."

Lady Holmes nodded and smiled. "Oh yes, of course. I've been very cautious. And you see I've brought my summer entertainment to me this year! I'll not be traveling, just as you suggested."

"An excellent decision, Lady Holmes. And you must be so glad to have the guests. I'd heard your sons were here."

"They are. As is my daughter-in-law, and my niece. You should introduce yourself on your way out! And Miss Hooper as well," she added, giving the doctor's daughter a token smile.

"Thank you, we will. Now, be sure to send for me if anything worsens. Myself or my daughter will be happy to call and check in." He smiled at Molly, then back at Lady Holmes. But then he began to cough and had to pause a moment.

"Oh dear, are you alright?" Lady Holmes asked, concern written on her face. Dr. Hooper tried to say he was, but the coughing was continuing, so he wasn't very convincing. She waved at the servant by the door. "Lucy, take Doctor Hooper and his daughter downstairs and offer them some tea. We can't send you off on the road with such a cough!"

"You're very kind," Dr. Hooper managed to wheeze out. "Thank you. It's nothing though, really. I'll be fine."

"Nonsense. You'll have some tea before you leave, and that's final. You'll have to excuse me though, I think I'll stay upstairs for a bit."

"Thank you, Lady Holmes," Molly offered with a smile, as her father was having some difficulty catching his breath at the moment. She hooked her arm into her fathers and they both left the room, following the servant girl through the hall, and back down the stairs.

"Father, you've done too much again today," Molly said to him in a hushed voice.

"Don't be silly, Molly. I've made one visit! That is hardly doing too much. I will not lay in bed all day, you know I won't!" He coughed a bit more.

"Alright, alright, I'm sorry. I can't help but worry though. This keeps happening, and I don't want to see you wear yourself out completely."

Dr. Hooper made no answer as they kept walking. The real answer was that he would wear himself out before too long. His body would wear out, and there was nothing he, Molly, or anyone else could do about it. But he didn't want to say that to her.

They were ushered into the beautiful and sunny sitting room where there were four other people present.

"Dr. Hooper and Miss Molly Hooper," the servant announced. "Lady Holmes invited them to have some tea before leaving."

Despite the fact that Lord Mycroft Holmes appeared rather superior, he gave a small smile and gestured to some of the chairs. "A pleasure Dr. Hooper, Miss Hooper. Do sit down. More tea is on its way...I am Lord Mycroft Holmes, and this is my brother Sherlock Holmes, my wife Anthea, and our cousin Mary Morstan."

Thanks were offered as Molly and her father took a seat. Dr. Hooper continued to cough a bit in his handkerchief and Molly tried not to smother him too much with worry. Molly's gaze also kept flickering over to the further end of the room where Sherlock sat with his fingers uniquely positioned beneath his chin. She was pulled from her thoughts by the voice of the lovely blond woman who sat nearby.

"It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance," she said with a warm smile at Molly.

"Thank you, yes. It's a pleasure to meet you. We appreciate your hospitality."

Molly tried not to react, but she heard a rather exaggerated sigh come from Sherlock. She thought she saw Mary's face contort slightly in irritation before she cleared her throat and took another sip of tea.

Molly and her father were served some tea and began drinking quietly. Dr. Hooper's coughing was calmed for a while and he looked more relaxed as he sipped the hot liquid.

"Is it an easy distance for you to travel from your home?" Anthea asked.

"Oh yes, quite easy. I usually walk, in fact. It's lovely countryside for walking," Molly answered.

Dr Hooper began to cough a bit again, and his breathing was labored.

"Did you walk today?" Mary asked, clearly concerned about the man.

"We rode today. I wouldn't ask my father to walk so far. I think I enjoy the outdoors a bit more then him." Molly gave his hand a squeeze.

"No." Sherlock's voice cut in suddenly, but he didn't turn to look at them. "You're concerned for him."

Mary looked embarrassed again and tried to simply move along. "And you enjoy working with your father, Miss Hooper?"

"Um, I do, yes." Molly answered, more nervously now.

"I think that's just lovely. You must be very smart to help him with such things. And brave too!"

"Oh no!" Molly blushed. "It's nothing. I just enjoy it, that's all."

Molly's expression changed again after her father's coughing resumes, this time more violently. "Father, are you alright?"

Even Sherlock turned then and stood up, seeming ready to take some sort of action if needed.

"I'm- I'm fine darling." More coughing, then he continued. "I think I'll just step outside for a moment. I'll get the horses ready and I'll just wait for you. Perhaps the air will do me good. Thank you again for the tea, I very much appreciate it."

Sherlock looked at Dr. Hooper and actually made eye contact as he nodded in a wordless answer.

After her father left, Molly smiled shyly at the rest of the party. "Forgive us, I thought he was well enough to come out today."

"There's nothing to forgive, surely!" Mary said kindly. "Is there anything we can do?"

To Molly's surprise, Sherlock spoke up before she could. "Not likely there's anything miraculous you can do, Mary, in the case of cancer that has spread to the lungs."

"Sherlock!" she hissed, turning to look at her cousin. She looked back at Molly. "He's a bit too observant for his own good sometimes.

"It's...alright," Molly answered quietly.

After an awkward moment of silence, Molly stood abruptly. "I should go outside and meet my father. It would probably be best to get him home."

"Of course," Anthea said as handed Molly her shawl which had fallen from her shoulders and stayed behind on the couch. "Please don't let us keep you. You must join us when Lady Holmes throws a party, mustn't she darling?"

Lord Holmes looked up briefly and offered a forced smile. "She must." Then he returned his gaze to his work.

"It's settled then, how lovely! We'll be so glad to have you." Anthea announced happily.

"That's very kind of you," Molly said with a quick smile. "I'll look forward to that very much."

"Though you're rather nervous, aren't you?" Sherlock added, a bit out of the blue again. He took a few steps closer, and there was a strange gleam in his eyes as he looked at her. "But why, I wonder?"

"Honestly, Sherlock-" but Mary didn't get far.

"No, no, no! Give me a moment, I should be able to get this!" and he put his hand up as he closed his eyes in thought. Then he opened his eyes and looked at Molly again. "This should be simple enough. Keeps me in practice."

As he got a bit closer, Molly looked up at him nervously. "Practice, Mr. Holmes?"

"Mm, keeping my mind active...I would deduce that your apprehension at attending a party here is due to your...apparel?"

Molly's large brown eyes became even wider and her mouth fell open a bit.

"The dress you're wearing at the moment...This is your most frequently used garment. It's not in tatters, no. But it's worn enough to suggest frequent use. This would also suggest that you do not own a large number of other dresses. Not uncommon for a woman of your modest situation. In addition to that fact, you allow little time for the care of your personal appearance and dress, since most of your focus lies in your father's work, and especially lately, his health. Clearly those things are your focus, seeing as you are now...twenty two, and yet unmarried. So! Though it's likely that you wouldn't wear this particular dress," he said gesturing to her garment at present, "to an evening affair, I would imagine that you have only...one option in the way of evening wear, and technically it isn't really evening wear at all, is it? It's only perhaps one step above the formality of the dress you're wearing now. You flinched slightly when Anthea invited you, even though you smiled. As you did so, you felt the fabric of the dress you're currently wearing. Clearly your mind went to your clothes, and you became self-conscious after realizing that you had nothing to wear that wasn't only marginally more formal than what you were feeling between your finger at that very moment."

Molly blinked up at him, undecided if her heart was racing out of the painful embarrassment, the shocking accuracy at his words, or simply how close he was standing. She quickly realized it was probably an awful combination of the three.

"I- I-...how did you manage to..." she tried to begin.

His eyes brightened slightly. "I was right, wasn't I? I should certainly hope I was. Not exactly a challenge!" He half smiled, and looked pleased with himself.

"I should say not," Lord Holmes added from his desk, not even looking up.

Molly had rarely felt so uncomfortable in a social situation. She was unsure how to react at first.

Mary, naturally, was mortified. Anthea was as well, but Mary had the forthrightness to actually speak up. She stepped forward next to Sherlock.

"You'll have to forgive my cousin. He's a detective, as you may have heard. Though he doesn't exactly know when he's working and when he isn't." She shot Sherlock a sideways disapproving look as she finished speaking.

"My mind is always working," he said with a little huff.

"I had heard, yes," Molly said, in answer to Mary.

"He tends to...read people a bit too freely. I'm sure he didn't mean any offense."

"No, I'm sure not," Molly answered quietly, but she was looking at Sherlock. She was pretty sure that he didn't care one way or the other if he caused offense. What a very strange man indeed. "You enjoy solving mysteries then?"

"I do. It affords a challenge. A means to keep myself from getting bored. I try to take every opportunity to keep my mind active." He looked rather proud of himself.

Molly nodded, and she felt a strange surge of boldness, despite the fact that the flush of embarrassment hadn't completely left her cheeks yet. "And so you turn people into your mysteries to solve?"

Sherlock frowned for a split second and paused. "I'm not sure I'd say exactly that."

"I don't know, I think perhaps that's an interesting concept. All the people around us are the greatest mysteries of all." Molly did her best to hold his eyes tightly with her own. "Though some, I think, are far more mysterious than others. Perhaps more time would be needed to truly solve the mystery of certain ones."

Both Sherlock Holmes and Molly Hooper didn't even blink for quite a few seconds. Neither of them noticed the way Mary smirked beside them at this interchange.

Sherlock finally drew a slow breath and parted his lips to answer in a quiet low voice. "An accurate deduction, Miss Hooper."

Molly smiled very slightly at him, and then looked back at Mary. "Thank you again for your hospitality, I really must be going. I'll very much look forward to meeting you all again. Good day."

Sherlock bowed his head slightly as the other ladies uttered their goodbyes, and they watched Miss Hooper leave the room.

He stayed still for another minute, a bit dumb founded. Sherlock was used to rendering people speechless by rattling off his always astoundingly accurate deductions, and she had seemed to be at first. He was not used to anyone turning the deducing right back around on him. That was a reaction he'd rarely, if ever, experienced. Especially from a shy and quiet young woman. Interesting...and even a bit invigorating.

"I like her," Mary announced as she took a seat again. "We should ask her for tea more often, don't you agree, Anthea?"

There was a note of teasing in Mary's voice, and Sherlock was well aware that it was directed at him.

After dinner that evening, the ladies sat around the drawing room quietly. Lady Holmes was rapidly falling asleep in her chair, and Mary and Anthea were trying to read in the low light. They all soon noticed a bustle of increased noise out in the main hall.

They heard Sherlock's muffled happy voice just before the door to the drawing room opened up.

"Hello, ladies!" Sherlock smiled. "Dr. Watson has finally arrived. Watson, you know Anthea and my mother."

"Good evening ladies, it's lovely to see you again," he smiled as he removed his hat and coat. He scanned the room in the dim candlelight.

"Watson, this is my cousin, Mary Morstan. Mary, this is Dr. John Watson."

John walked over closer as Mary also rose from her seat to greet him. She smoothed her lavender gown and they both made small bows of greeting. John stared at her for a second, looked briefly back at Sherlock, then back at Mary again.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Miss Morstan. We will have to blame it on Sherlock that we've not met before this. Have they been hiding you away?" John asked with a small laugh.

Mary smiled at him and her eyes sparkled from the glow of the fire. "Perhaps they have been. But it seems you've found my hiding place, Dr. Watson."

His smile spread slowly as he looked back at her. "It seems I have."

Sherlock narrowed his eyes and tilted his head a bit as he watched his friend speak to his cousin.

"I'm sure Watson would like to retire for the night, seeing as he's only just arrived," Sherlock interjected.

Mary and John continued to look at each other even as John agreed with Sherlock and began to move away.

"Goodnight, ladies!" John smiled as he and Sherlock left the drawing room and began heading for the main staircase.

John stopped him at the base of the stairs and lowered his voice. "Holmes, why exactly have I never met Miss Morstan before? You've told me she's been here for months! How is it that you're only just now inviting me to Seaborne?" he demanded.

Sherlock sighed. "You've only been here five minutes, Watson. Do try to relax. And do try not to propose marriage to one or more women before the first day is done. More specifically, my cousin!"

"I'll make no promises!" John chuckled as he started up the steps. "Goodnight, Holmes."

"Goodnight, Watson."

Sherlock turned after a while and retreated back to the library. For his part, he was far from sleep. The silence around here was killing him. The country was far too quiet, which made it difficult to drown out the noises in his head.

And tonight, there were a lot of noises in his head.

The whole gang is in the house now! Yay! The fun is just beginning... Hope you enjoyed this, and I look forward to hearing your thoughts. See you around here and on Tumblr! ;)

Thanks again to my bff and consulting writer/editor Pillowslave, and for the historical expertise of QueenCumberbitch! ;)