Hello everyone! This chapter is a bit shorter than the others have been. And I hope you're not all too disappointed, but this one does not actually include the party. I know, I'm sorry I mentioned it last time! But don't worry, that'll be next chapter. There was something else I wanted to do before I get to the party and dancing fun. And I think you'll enjoy the Sherlolly interactions in this one too. I'll let you get to reading, and I'll have a note at the bottom. ;)

One more note- The first scene in this chater is dedicated to Bucky5. Yep, I got all historically inaccurate...just for you! Enjoy! ;D

Sherlock trudged down the marble steps while yawning loudly. He heard voices downstairs in the morning room. A maid walked past the staircase and gave a little involuntary gasp before turning a bright shade of pink and scurrying away. Sherlock continued his descent, unfazed.

He walked down the main hall and entered the room where he saw his mother, cousin, and sister in law playing card with John. Poor Anthea looked up first and dropped her cards. Mary looked over next and had to cover her mouth to stop the laughter.

"Oh, for God's sake, Sherlock! You have a half dozen silk dressing gowns you could be wearing if you can't be bothered to come downstairs fully dressed! Your bed sheet belongs on your bed!" his mother bellowed.

"I would prefer to keep it on my body for now, thank you. And I should think the rest of you would prefer that as well," he answered calmly as he poured himself a cup of tea with one hand while keeping the sheet wrapped and gathered with his other hand. He threw a brief smile over to the small table. "A pleasant morning, don't you think?"

"Not quite so much anymore," John said shaking his head.

Just then, a butler appeared at the door. "Dr. Watson, there's a messenger for you at the door."

John got up immediately, excusing himself, and exiting the room quickly.

The word had been spread quickly over the past week that Dr. Watson was to be contacted in Dr. Hooper's stead. Dr. Hooper made it very clear to his patients that he trusted Dr. Watson implicitly, and that they should do the same. They took him seriously, and John had already been called upon a few times.

Sherlock hadn't been much entertained yet though. There had been a fever, chronic headaches, and one sprained ankle, nothing of any interest. But that was about to change.

John came back in the room. "Well, a servant has had a bit of an accident involving the wheel of a carriage. His foot is crushed rather badly. I'll need to go and see what I can do."

"Perhaps an amputation will be an order," Sherlock offered with a gleam in his eye.

"Oh my," Lady Holmes exclaimed, looking a little disturbed.

"Don't excite yourself yet, Holmes. It may well not be as bad as is reported. These things tend to get exaggerated by messenger. But I will go now, by carriage, and I'll return as soon as I can," he spoke the last words mostly to Miss Morstan who smiled warmly in return.

John lingered for a second, enjoying her gaze, then turn and went his way.

Mary looked down at her cards, smiling to herself and wondering if she should dare let herself be happy at this man's attention. He was such a good man, and how little she felt that she deserved him...

Just then, Mycroft entered the room. His eyes fell on his brother right away, who sat wrapped in a sheet and happily sipping his tea.

"Ah, good morning, brother," Sherlock threw him a grim.

"Is it?" Mycroft asked with disdain, and walked over to the tea cart to pour himself a cup.

"Darling, we've just lost Dr. Watson in our game of cards. Perhaps you'd like to join us?" Anthea asked her husband, giving him a sweet smile.

"I think you'll find I am much better at government than a game of cards, my dear," he said simply as he stood looking out the window with his tea in hand.

Anthea let out a small sigh. "Perhaps it isn't your skill at cards I am requesting, but simply the pleasure of your company!" she said, in an unusually forceful and frustrated voice.

Mycroft turned and looked at her as the room fell silent and everyone's eyes fell on them. After a moment, he cleared his throat and said, while actually looking almost sad, "I think, you will also find that I have even fewer talents at being pleasant company."

Anthea stared back at him, and a second later she stood from the card table. "Excuse me, please," she whispered, and hurried from the room.

Sherlock opened his mouth first, breaking the uncomfortable silence. "I believe you've just proven your own point, brother... unpleasant company indeed!" he smirked.

"This is not a joke," Mary said, putting her cards aside, the game having been ruined by now anyway. "Do you care nothing for the woman who you call 'wife,' Mycroft?"

"Mary!" Lady Holmes hissed, feeling it improper for her niece to reprimand her eldest son.

"I cannot stay silent!" Mary continued. "The party has been here under a month and I cannot bear to watch this horror any longer. If you did not truly care for that lovely woman, Mycroft, you would have done well not to marry her at all," she said to the man who stood stoic and silent.

"She made a good match, Mary. Do not forget that," Lady Holmes interjected, trying to pacify her, but not succeeding.

Mary turned to her aunt. "Do you really think that is all that matters? You know nothing of the pain a woman experiences when she's made to feel unloved!"

Sherlock expression fell a bit, and he didn't feel like teasing anymore. His cousin was one of the few people that could successfully tug at his emotions, and he didn't like to see her upset.

Mary pressed her eyes closed and took a deep breath. "Forgive me," she said softly as she opened her eyes and straightened in her chair again.

It was Sherlock who immediately said, "There is nothing to forgive," with a pointed glance at his mother and brother.

After a couple of minutes of silence, Mycroft set down his only partially drunk tea and announced, "I believe I shall go for a ride this morning. Excuse me." He wasted no time in exiting the room.

Lady Holmes sighed loudly and set down the cards that she was still holding onto for some reason. "If anyone needs me, I suppose I shall be in my correspondence room. I do have some letters to catch up on, and more to plan for the party next week." She stood and exited the room with the use of her cane.

Eventually, Mary looked over at Sherlock and shook her head while laughing lightly. "What a bunch of fools we are. Do things usually fall apart like this when Dr. Watson is missing?"

"Usually, yes," he said with a small smile. "Why do you think I invited him this summer?"

"Well, I should probably go and check on Anthea. I think it's safe to say her husband isn't taking the initiative in that regard." She rose from the table and smiled at Sherlock as she exited the room, leaving Sherlock alone.

He sat drinking his tea and wiggling his bare toes on the carpet beneath his feet. It was true, his family and himself were a bunch of fools. But he couldn't be bothered to worry about that at the moment.

He was too busy hoping that something interesting would come from Dr. Watson's case of the crushed foot...

John walked into the fresh air and followed Molly to the water pump which wasn't far from the small house. She was bent over rinsing her hands carefully in the cool water. She stood and made room for John as she wiped her hands on her apron.

"I appreciate your being willing to come along and assist me, Miss Hooper. It makes all the difference in the world to have a competent second set of hands. I can tell you've worked with your father for a very long time. You certainly don't seem bothered by any of this," he commented as he began rinsing the blood off his own hands.

"Not at all," she said brightly. "It's almost...natural to me. It fascinates me actually."

"Well, you're a natural," John smiled. "Your father must be very proud."

"I'm glad to have the kind of father who is proud of such a thing."

John nodded. It was true, he knew. Such a man was not commonplace. And he believed she would be hard pressed to find a husband of similar understanding and acceptance. Except of course...

"I have a bit of a favor to ask you, Miss Hooper. Forgive me, I know you've already been such a help today." John began wiping his own now cleaned hands.

"It's no trouble, Dr. Watson. What is it you need help with?"

"Well, it's the small matter of the two toes that had to be removed," he began hesitantly.

"Oh, yes. Would you like me to dispose of them? I've done it before, it's no trouble."

"Not exactly...Actually, I'd like you to take them to someone for me. I should stay here for a bit, and just make sure that the boy is still relatively comfortable. You can take the carriage. It's not a far walk for me, and I'd enjoy the exercise."

Molly looked at him quizzically. "Did you say take them to someone?"

John looked a little uncomfortable. How do I explain this? He thought. Then he smirked inwardly as he decided that the best plan of action was to make Sherlock to the explaining...

"Yes, that's right. I'd like for you to take them to Mr. Holmes at Seaborne. He will explain the situation in full."

Molly stared back at him for a moment. She was obviously trying not to appear completely shocked by this request. She started to open her mouth again but John spoke first.

"If this makes you somehow uncomfortable, I'm sure I can take care of it when I return to Seaborne later in the day. I just thought that perhaps-"

"No, I'll do it, Dr. Watson," she said with a determined nod and then a smile. "It's perfectly fine. I'm not uncomfortable at all."

John smiled back at her. "Oh, good. Well, I'll just wrap up those toes then, shall I?"

The carriage came to a stop in front of Seaborne, and Molly took up the basket with the small wrapped parcel inside it. She still wondered what exactly she was doing here, but at this point there wasn't much that would have discouraged her from making a delivery to Mr. Sherlock Holmes. If Dr. Watson had said it would be explained, she felt sure there was nothing to be concerned about.

She knocked on the door, and soon the butler had opened up and smiled. "May I help you? Miss Hooper, isn't it?"

"Yes, I'm Miss Hooper. I have a, um...delivery for Mr. Sherlock Holmes. Is he at home?"

"Yes he is, Miss. Perhaps you would just come wait inside, and I'll fetch him."

Molly followed the butler into the sitting room and settled herself on one of the chairs. She waited at least ten minutes, beginning to wonder if anyone was ever coming back for her. Finally she heard some approaching footsteps.

Sherlock came through the doorway looking a bit like he'd been in the middle of something. He was also missing his jacket. He was in just his shirt and waistcoat and an untied cravat. Molly blinked a couple times, looked away, cleared her throat, and then looked back up at him.

"Miss Hooper...I was told that Watson sent you," he said, with a touch of question in his voice.

"Oh, Yes!" she answered quickly, relieved that he'd reminded her of the reason she was actually there. He brain had apparently stopped working for a brief moment, and she had started wondering what in the world she should say next. "He um, told me to bring you something." She stood and picked up the basket.

This prompted Sherlock to move in closer and he began to eye the parcel inside the basket intently. "Did he? And what exactly did he have you bring?"

Molly giggled a little nervously. "Well, I think this may sound a bit strange, but...a couple of toes."

She watched as a slow smile spread across Sherlock's features. Then he chuckled happily and clapped his hands together, rubbing them in glee. "That's not strange at all! That's excellent news, and exactly what I was hoping to hear!"

"Is it?" she smiled, eyeing him cautiously.

"Absolutely! Now, I'll just take that, and I won't delay you any longer. Though I can have tea brought in if you'd like some before you leave." He may have been offering tea, but he looked in a rush. If she was reading him correctly, including the way he kept eyeing the basket she held, he was very much interested in getting on with...whatever this was.

"No thank you, for the tea, I mean. But um, I was wondering, why exactly would Dr. Watson be delivering toes to you? He did say you would explain."

"He did?" Sherlock frowned...Why would Watson promise her that I'd make a full explanation? Well, no matter...

Sherlock cleared his throat. "They are for my experiments."

Molly frowned a little. "Experiments? You experiment on...human body parts?"

"Well, I'm not always so fortunate as to have human ones. Sometimes I use animal parts, sometimes other natural items...whatever I can manage."

"And exactly what do you do to these things?"

"Oh, could be a number of things really. I have a whole room downstairs, used as my lab. That's where I was when you arrived. I keep certain chemicals, microscopes-"

"You have microscopes?" she asked stepping forward and looking excited.

He quirked an eyebrow at her as she began to look embarrassed at her sudden outburst. "Yes, I do. As a matter of fact, I have a bit of a collection downstairs. Another one of my small hobbies. That's one thing, I suppose, that I enjoy about being back here. It is a vast improvement to working on the table of my London flat!"

She smiled and it made her eyes gleam a little. "I'm sure."

There was a pause, perhaps a mental crossroads. Sherlock knew, as he looked down at her cheery face, that he had two options. He had just done as she'd asked, and explained himself. So he could take the parcel from her and send her on her way, thanking her for the trouble of her trip and wishing her a pleasant day. Or...

"Miss Hooper?"

"Yes?"

"Would you...like to see?"

Her smile brightened up and answered before her words could, but she quickly said, "I would very much like to see, yes."

Sherlock smiled back in return. "Well then...follow me, Miss Hooper."

"I cleared one of the rooms in the basement years ago. Nobody else in the family really uses the rooms down here. The only way to get there is down the servant's staircase," he explained as they descended the wooden steps, which were a far cry from the shiny marble ones upstairs.

"It's no problem, I don't mind."

Molly followed him down a hallway, moving steadily away from the sounds of the kitchen which was in the other direction. Sherlock took out keys that he had in his pocket and unlocked the door, then pushing it opened.

There was some light in the room from the windows that were at ground level, and Molly looked around the spacious room that held a couple tables, some shelves on the walls, lots of boxes, bottles of unnamed liquids, and books strewn about. The room would naturally be thought of as cold and unwelcoming to most, but to Molly it felt just perfect.

She walked over to the wall that held shelves of about a dozen microscopes. They were all slightly different. She could only dream of owning one, let alone many.

Sherlock had picked up the basket that she'd set on the floor and put it on the table, beginning to unwrap the contents. He watched her as she walked around the room and silently took it all in. After a few moments, she came over to the table where he was removing the brown paper carefully.

He glanced at her in question as she watched what he did.

Molly smiled. "Don't forget, Mr. Holmes, I am the one who helped Dr. Watson remove them from the poor man's foot. I'll not be bothered by it, if that's what you're wondering."

Sherlock smoothed out the paper and took a look at what was held inside. "And I believe I can see why they had to go." He grimaced a bit at the small toes that were clearly not going to be any use to a foot anymore.

"It was a bad accident," Molly said, looking sympathetically at the table, then back up at Sherlock. "So, what do you plan to do with them?"

Sherlock almost started grinning at the fact that this small woman had so quickly jumped into asking what they'd be doing with these toes. But he cleared his throat instead and said, "I'd actually like to examine the nail."

"Oh, fascinating! How can I help?" she asked, and stepped around to the other side of the table.

He was still so surprised at her interest and comfort with all of this, that he was a bit thrown. He felt inexplicably flustered. "Um, we would uh...remove the nail."

"Alright," she smiled up at him. "Is this the microscope you usually use?" she looked at the contraption sitting atop the table nearby.

"That is my favorite, yes. But you're welcome to try another if you'd like."

"I don't have much experience with them actually. If you like this one best, I'll be happy to use it."

Sherlock retrieved some tools intended for smaller jobs and they set to work.

He found that although Molly didn't know exactly what to do on her own, she was a more than willing participant, and she was also an extremely fast learner. She picked up the tools and used them as if she'd been dissecting small body parts all her life. It was all rather impressive, and he found himself observing her as much as he was focusing on the actual work.

"Would you like to have a look?" he asked a few minutes later, as he raised his head from the microscope.

Molly smiled and moved in front of the contraption as Sherlock took a step back to make room. She paused for a moment, and Sherlock reached his hand around from behind her.

"You can use this part to adjust, if needed," he said softly.

Molly had been enjoying the carefree entertainment all this time, but now, she suddenly felt overwhelmed. There he stood right behind her, and she could actually feel the warmth from his breath on the back of her neck as he had leaned over and spoken.

She began to worry about whether she was being incredibly foolish. She'd been alone with this man more than once now. She'd touched him more times than she'd touched any other man to whom she wasn't related. And when she heard his voice merely inches away from her ear...suddenly all the rules of propriety made sense. No wonder she wasn't supposed to be alone with a man like this. If this is what it felt like, being so close to him, she would be likely to forget herself far more quickly than she ever imagined she would.

Molly began to silently tell herself to focus on the microscope. Do not turn around, Molly. Do not turn around...

She leaned forward and pressed her eye to the lens. This thankfully gave her some much needed distraction.

"Oh, my goodness! That's incredible!" she laughed as she examined the thin piece of toe nail in a way that she'd never imagined was possible. "You'll have to sketch this."

"Ah, yes. Well, that's not really my area. Never had much of a hand at drawing," he answered, still standing behind her. "Sometimes I just make some simple notes."

"Really? That's such a shame, with all the lovely things you're able to see through here." Molly straightened up and, against her better judgment, turned away from the microscope to face him. "I can draw."

Sherlock's eyes narrowed as he listened in interest. "Can you? Well that is fortunate isn't it? I'd be rather interested to see that." He crossed his arms over his chest and smiled down at her.

She returned the smile, thinking again how amazingly difficult it was to think straight with him standing so very close to her. She was about to announce that she'd sketch this magnified nail sample right this very instant...but she happen to catch sight of one of the windows across the room and was reminded of the time.

Molly cleared her throat and tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear. "Mr. Holmes, you've been awfully kind to allow me to see all this... but I've realized that I should be getting back home to my father. He may begin to wonder where I am. I'm sure he expected me to return soon after helping Dr. Watson."

Sherlock pressed his lips together and locked his hands behind his back. "Ah, yes of course. Forgive me, I didn't mean to keep you."

"No, no! Of course not! You didn't! I mean, well, I wanted you to. No, forgive me, I meant, I just meant..." She bit her lip for a second, trying to stop fumbling over her words. "Thank you. I just meant, thank you. This was lovely, and I do wish I could stay longer. If I had a room like this I think I'd never leave!"

Again, Sherlock fought the urge to smile especially broadly at her expressions. "My thoughts exactly, Miss Hooper. Unfortunately, I am no longer twelve, and cannot get away with such a thing as easily. But perhaps if I am mysteriously missing at my mother's party next week, you will know my hiding place."

Molly swallowed hard, and pushed down some shyness. "I should hope though, that you won't be hiding away for the entire party," she said softly.

"No, Miss Hooper, I will be sure not to," he answered, lowering his voice a bit.

She could swear, if she let her heart run absolutely wild with unreasonable hope, that there was the hint of a promise in his tone. She felt her face turn pink, for the hundredth time, under his gaze, and decided it was time to force herself to take her leave.

"Good evening, Mr. Holmes."

"Good evening, Miss Hooper." He gave her a small bow and a very slight smile.

John Watson arrived back at Seaborne not much after that. He found Sherlock down in his lab, as he thought he would.

"Ah, I see you've received my delivery. And was it to your liking?" John asked, as he came closer to where his friend was bent over the microscope.

"Very much so, yes. Thank you," he answered, without looking up.

"You're welcome," John stayed where he was, thinking that he'd not really heard the whole story yet. "And, Miss Hooper? I hope you thanked her for her trouble as well."

Sherlock straightened up and eyed his friend suspiciously for a moment. John was smirking back at him slightly as he leaned against the table. He then leaned back down to look into his microscope as he answered his friend.

"Naturally, Watson, yes, I thanked her...most sincerely."

John smiled to himself as he could swear he saw Sherlock appear a little bit nervous. "Good. That's good...Right, well, I'll just leave you to it. See you at dinner, Holmes."

"Mm, yes," Sherlock mumbled as John left the room.

John closed the door to Sherlock's lab behind him as he left. As he walked down the hall, he chuckled lightly and repeated to himself, "You're welcome."

So I really wanted to get them together in a lab, because what's better than lab Sherlolly stuff?! And I figured Sherlock would likely have a lab in that huge house anyway. It actually occurred to me as I was writing it that there's no way to document what you saw back then, unless you draw it! So that gave another opportunity for Molly to get in closer with Sherlock. She can sketch the things he sees hehe! I'll have to do more lab stuff with them as time goes on. So anyway, next chapter will definitely include the party, and I'm really looking forward to writing that. I have a fun plan up my sleeve, and I hope you all enjoy it. :D

Thanks for reading and for all the reviews and stuff. Just as a reminder to those who haven't followed me in the recent past, I don't routinely respond to every review anymore. But if you ask a question or there's something I want to address I'll definitely answer you. And I'll always respond if you private message me, so feel free to do that if you have an account...Ok, see you next chapter! ;)