I'm feeling pretty good about myself right now. I'm updating in less than a week! Yay! Not the most lovely reason though. I thought I would be much busier today, but since my son ended up with a cold, we have been home hanging out all day. As of yesterday I didn't think I'd be able to update till Sunday or Monday...anyway, I digress! This chapter is kind of fun because there's a few parallels to the series, and some interesting developments too. I'll see ya at the bottom of the page! *waves* ;)

It looked to Sherlock like there wasn't a presence of wasps or other bees around his honey bees' home. That was a good sign. No honey stealing meant a much better harvest next month. Redbeard played in the grass a little distance away. He had tried to accompany Sherlock once, but had since decided that he liked staying further away from the bees.

Sherlock took off his protective gear as he walked toward his puppy. "Yes, yes, we'll go walking now. You've been patient long enough."

The dog leaped after his master. Sherlock placed his bee keeping apparel in a small shed first, and they began walking. They passed the house again as they went, and Sherlock caught sight of Irene, Mary, and Anthea sitting together, talking and laughing. He tended to think it was best that he keep out of their way. The women were all busily trying to plan John and Mary's wedding for the end of the summer, and that was not far off.

Irene was hardly sentimental, but she proved useful because of her impeccable style. She definitely had the most flawless sense of taste, and the rest of the party decided that they could use her expert opinion in the planning process. Even Lady Holmes wasn't opposed to hearing Irene's thought. She had her complaints about the woman herself, but she wouldn't complain about hosting the most beautiful summer wedding possible. John and Mary hadn't wanted anything large, but Lady Holmes insisted that this was an occasion to be celebrated.

John had been busy lately trying to plan their wedding trip and also settle everything regarding Dr. Hooper's medical practice. The practice needed to be handed over to someone, just as the man had wished, and John needed to make sure that happened by the time he was married. He preferred it to be some time before, since he didn't want to be scrambling too close to the wedding. There were some hopeful candidates already, since John had begun the process a few weeks before Dr. Hooper had actually passed away.

Sherlock walked Redbeard further than he usually did. They went all the way to the rocky edges of the ocean. Redbeard immediately made his way to the water and leapt around in some of the shallow surf. Sherlock picked up a couple of small shells and examined them. One in particular looked interesting as its colors shone in iridescent waves with the sunshine that hit it. Sherlock stuck that one in his waistcoat pocket. He took a seat on a larger rock and closed his eyes for a moment.

Some minutes later, he heard Redbeard barking. He opened his eyes to see the puppy running away down the beach toward an approaching figure. That approaching figure was Molly Hooper.

Sherlock got up and began smiling as he walked toward Molly, who was bent down accepting the excited greeting from Redeard. As he reached her, Molly stood up with her hand raised to block the glare from the sun.

"Mr. Holmes, I was glad to catch sight of you both. Taking a long walk today?"

"We are. Redbeard needed the exercise and I needed the distraction. I was becoming a bit tired of being confined inside." Sherlock paused and shifted his eyes nervously before looking back at her. "You look...well."

Molly nodded and smiled for a moment, still squinting through the sunshine. "I am."

He nodded as well. "I'm glad. And I see that you've been working on the favor I had asked of you." He stated happily.

Molly blushed a little. "Well yes, I suppose I have. How can you tell?"

"Not a challenging deduction, Miss Hooper."

Without thinking, Sherlock reached up and took the hand that Molly was using to shield her eyes from the sun. Molly's jaw dropped a little and she forgot to breathe as he cradled her hand in his much larger one. He took his other index finger and tapped on a couple of tell-tale places on her skin which bore the faded black stains from sketching. He gave her a little smirk as he did this, and Molly smiled back shyly.

Sherlock realized what he'd done in that moment as well, and he questioned the wisdom of having taken her hand. It seemed awfully challenging to let it go now...but he did. He let his hand sink downward, thus causing hers to slip from his palm. A short silence followed before Molly spoke again.

"I can't thank you enough for giving me something to occupy my time. I was a bit...lost."

"Oh?" he asked, as if it wasn't something he was already well aware of.

"I hardly know what to do with myself anymore," she continued as they both began walking a bit, following Redbeard along the rocky beach. "I just, I miss him. I keep thinking I'll turn a corner in the house, and there he'll be. It's almost difficult to grieve his death because I can barely even remember that he's gone. He's always been there, and I don't know how to comprehend the fact that he simply isn't anymore."

They walked silently for a moment before Molly added, "How old were you when your father died?"

Sherlock drew a breath and let it out as he looked at the water to their right. "I was about eight. I wasn't told much at that age. I knew he'd taken ill though. The things I was told came from my brother. He was fifteen at the time. He saw our father before the end...had the talking to about being the man of the family. He obviously took that speech quite seriously," he said with a short laugh.

"That must have been difficult for you...not seeing him before he died," Molly said with a sympathetic expression.

Sherlock shrugged. "We spent limited amounts of time together. He worked in government, similar to the path that Mycroft chose. He was always quite busy with his work, and I was most often with Mrs. Hudson."

"Mrs. Hudson?" Molly frowned. "I thought she was your housekeeper."

"Well naturally she wasn't back then. Mrs. Hudson was the governess throughout our childhood. When I turned eighteen and decided to establish myself in London, I decided to keep her on staff as my housekeeper, and she was good enough to agree to the arrangement. Often times though, she reminds me that she is not in fact my housekeeper, and that she used to clean up after me in a very...different sort of way."

Molly's head fall back as she let out a peal of laughter. She wondered how much more there was to know about this man, and was sure she'd be happy to spend many years learning all she could. There were times recently when she had questioned if he might possible feel the same...

"She seems like a lovely woman. You must have grown rather close."

"She was like another mother to us, though Mycroft was never quite as attached to her. He simply chose to take on the role of another parent." Sherlock's tone was one of annoyance.

"I'm sure he did it because of how much he cares for you."

"My brother may be even less sentimental than I. He makes it a point not to care."

"Hmm," Molly sighed softly. "I'm sure he feels he simply can't handle it. Perhaps unconsciously he knows that if he did care...it would overtake him."

Sherlock's eyes snapped to her profile beside him. He frowned as he considered this. What a theory...and how much it shook him deep inside to realize that the same could probably be said about himself. This woman seemed to possess a form of deductive skill and insight that was somewhat foreign to him.

Sherlock stopped and turned to face her. "I should be getting back to the house with Redbeard. He'll surely want his dinner soon."

"And you'll be wanted at the house as well, I'm sure. I have heard you...have a guest." Molly smiled with the words, but it was a bit forced.

"Miss Irene Adler, yes. She is a guest of my sister in law, and an acquaintance of mine as well. She is...a unique woman."

Sherlock looked away from Molly as he spoke, and her eyes fell down in discouragement as she listened...Unique. That was something Molly believed she would never be to him. She thought she was probably about as ordinary as any woman could be.

"I won't keep you then." Molly bent down a gave Redbeard some snuggles and he happily accepted. She stood again and gave Sherlock another smile. "Good day, Mr. Holmes."

Molly began to walk away, but Sherlock called to her, making her turn again. He reached into his pocket to pull something out, and then tossed it to her. Molly was quick to react, and after catching the item, she opened her fingers to find that it was a small and luminous shell.

"Judging from the amount of staining on your hand, I'd say you're at least half way through sketching the items I sent to you. Better add that to the list...we can't have you getting bored." Sherlock's lips curled upward.

He turned and walked away too quickly to see how wide the grin on Molly's face was. After repeated calls, Redbeard finally stopped turning to yap at Molly and followed after his master.

The walk had done Sherlock good, and he returned to Seaborne feeling invigorated. Redbeard scampered off with the butler who promised to bring him to the kitchen for some food. Sherlock retired to the drawing room, and was pleased to see John sitting alone looking at some papers.

"Ah, Holmes, I'm glad you're here. Come and look at this."

Sherlock took a seat beside his friend and looked at what he held.

"This is the doctor I was telling you about, Dr. Charles. His recommendations are excellent, he's young and healthy, and the date he said he could arrive is in about a week. I wrote back and told him I'd like him to come if he's still interested."

"And what did he say?"

John held up the letter in his hand and smiled. "He'll be here by the end of the week. I have to finalize everything with the rented space in town for him to set up his practice, but besides that, it seems my work is done."

"Well done, Watson." Sherlock smiled. "I'm sure that Miss Hooper will also be pleased to hear that her father's practice will be handed over to a pair of capable hands."

John nodded, and after a pause, he added, "Have you seen her?"

Sherlock cleared his throat. "Redbeard and I happened to come across her just today on our walk."

"Did you? And is she well?"

"As well as can be expected."

"Well, I had planned to write her and explaining that we would need to call at her home at the end of the week. We will need to get Dr. Charles all of the patient's records. I imagine Miss Hooper may even appreciate an introduction, given that this is the man filling her father's shoes."

"I'm sure she would appreciate such a gesture," Sherlock agreed.

"Perhaps you would accompany us as well?"

"That would be fine, Watson, yes I will come along."

"And...are there any plans to, perhaps soon, have any other sort of...discussion with Miss Hooper?" John asked with raised brows.

Sherlock's eyes shifted slowly to his friend. "That is...still undecided," he answered slowly.

"Holmes, is this perhaps something to do with Dr. Hooper? Do you feel guilty in some way about proposing to her, not knowing if he would have approved."

"That is hardly the issue," Sherlock sighed. "Dr. Hooper as much as asked me to marry his daughter."

John's eyes became saucers. "He what? I- I had no idea. I knew he liked you, but I did not realize he liked you that much."

"I believe I had his blessing before I knew I could care about such a thing. I just cannot say yet whether I will use it." Sherlock looked a little somber.

"Trust me, my friend, do not wait too long. You could end up being sorry. You should speak soon if you care as much as I believe you do. I hope you know that she would say yes." John offered a smile of comfort.

"Hmm," was the only answer John received, and just like that it seemed that Sherlock was not in a conversational mood anymore.

John took the hint and gathered up his papers in order to leave Sherlock alone with his thoughts. He hoped that all of his friends thinking would lead him in the right direction. He would very much like to see that.

Long after dinner that night, Sherlock sat plucking at his violin strings absentmindedly and staring at the fire. He heard the crackle of the flames, and the soft breathing of Redbeard beside him, and the sound of his violin. At some point he looked up and was a little surprised to see Irene sitting across from him and staring with a ghost of a smile on her lips.

"Hello," he said with a tilt of his head. "How long have you been sitting there?"

"A little while. Everyone else has gone off to bed. I was talking with Anthea earlier, but she decided to retire when she heard your brother go upstairs." Irene smirked and raised here eyebrow.

Sherlock frowned at her.

Irene made a face of mock astonishment. "Oh, forgive me, Mr. Holmes! Have I offended you? Perhaps your weeks spent in the country have changed you."

"You are mistaken, Miss Adler. My time spent in the country has nothing to do with the fact that I do not wish to discuss or dwell on what my brother and sister-in-law do upstairs."

Irene laughed. "Oh, Mr. Holmes, you know I'm only teasing. Though I can't help but be a bit concerned about the marriage between your brother and my friend."

"What exactly is your concern?" Sherlock eyed her suspiciously.

"Her happiness of course. I am certainly not one who favors the institute of marriage, but I do wish that those who are silly enough to enter into such an arrangement would at least find some measure of happiness. I question whether that is the case with the elder Mr. Holmes and his wife."

"I believe you know enough about my brother and our family to know that Mycroft is not likely to be a overtly loving and affectionate husband. I think you also know that he would never mistreat her," Sherlock added firmly.

"There is more than one kind of mistreatment, Mr. Holmes. To be denied affection...passion...and to be made to feel unwanted, that is enough to drive a person rather mad. I know I could never survive in such a union!"

"Fortunately for you, you seem to have avoided the risk altogether." Sherlock rolled his eyes covertly as he set his violin down and gave Redbeard some scratches on his head.

"I intend to keep it that way," she said quickly. "I've no need for the arrangement of marriage. I have my own money, and I certainly never have to feel unwanted. No need to be lonely is there?"

"I suppose not," he answered, looking a little more nervous.

"I do hope you remember that my door is always opened. You'll be back in London soon I believe, and I imagine that even you can...get lonely sometimes." Her voice dropped as she spoke.

"I deal well with solitude," he answered with features set firmly.

"Do you?" she asked as she rose from her seat.

Sherlock frowned a little as she walked closer, and even Redbeard's head shot up from where it had been resting.

"Don't be a fool, Mr. Holmes. Everybody needs to feel wanted, feel passion, sometimes. Even you, even me, and even your brother The Ice Man." She stood her ground in front of him, staring him down for a moment.

Finally she turned and went for the door, but she added, "I suppose there's always hope though, isn't there? It is summer after all."

"What does that mean?" Sherlock asked, having to force the words out as his mouth had gone a little dry.

"We all know what happens to ice in the summer, Mr. Holmes." She gave him one more smirk and left the room.

Sherlock looked down at Redbeard as he heard her footsteps ascending the staircase. "Not going to run after her, are you?" he whispered at the puppy.

Redbeard snuggled closer to his master, resting his head and front paws on Sherlock's arm on the couch.

Sherlock chuckled a little as Redbeard shut his eyes again. "No, you wouldn't run after that woman would you?" Sherlock shut his eyes as well, and he ended up sleeping on the couch, with Redbeard at his side.

The week came to a close, and Sherlock was looking forward to being able to see Molly again. He and John were planning to meet Dr. Charles that morning, since he had arrived the previous night. They had planned to meet him at his new home and practice in the small town, and then take him to the Hooper home and retrieve the files from Dr. Hooper's office.

Sherlock stood at the mirror in the hallway, fussing with his cravat as Redbeard ran up and down the hall which made amusing little skittering noises.

"Need some help?" Mary came down the stairs and smiled as she saw her cousin.

"I'm...fine, really." He sighed and turned away from the mirror, giving up on his appearance. "What about you? Is everything falling into place? Anybody I need to threaten in order for your wedding day to go exactly as planned?"

Mary giggled as she locked her arm into Sherlock's. "You can make sure you're there, and you can smile, and you can dance and enjoy yourself. That is all I ask."

"You mean you don't want to know which of your guests don't care for you quite as much?"

"Oh...well, perhaps you could make a few notes for me."

"Already done." Sherlock smiled slyly at her.

"Do give Miss Hooper my regards today. I wish we could see her more often, but we are so busy, and she is in mourning. It's a shame she won't be able to attend the wedding."

"I'm sure she wishes she could."

"I'm sure you wish she could." Mary elbowed him lightly.

"Don't get carried away," he reprimanded playfully. "Besides, gossip will do nothing for your already less than perfect reputation."

"If gossip irreparably ruined reputations, there would be nobody respectable in all of England!" she said with a laugh.

John came down the hallway and the butler retrieved both men's hats. He also informed the gentlemen that their carriage was waiting outside. John spared a moment to place a kiss on his fiance's hand, then they left to go meet Dr. Charles.

"I do hope everything went smoothly with his accommodations," John said as the carriage rolled along. "It was awfully fortunate that old hat shop had shut down a month ago. The bedroom on the second floor made it the perfect spot for a live in business. I imagine he's still getting settled, but it is important that we speed this process as much as possible."

"I'm sure he won't mind. He's young and probably eager and willing to get started. He hasn't had enough time to become cynical," Sherlock said as he looked out the window.

When they arrived in the town, Sherlock and John exited the carriage and walked down the road toward the new doctor's medical practice. He almost didn't notice, but as they walked, Sherlock caught the eye of another gentleman walking toward them. It was Mr. James Moriarty.

Moriarty stopped immediately as he caught sight of Sherlock and John. His eyes lit up, he smiled warmly, and bowed his head as he greeted them.

"What a pleasant surprise, gentlemen. I had been hoping to run into you both again while I'm still in town. I trust you're both well."

"We are, thank you," Sherlock answered, but felt instantly on guard as he stood in front of this mysterious man. "And you are well, Mr. Moriarty?"

"I am, yes. Lovely day isn't it? I was just on my way to a meeting with a...colleague." Moriarty flashed a smile as he waved an envelope, indicating that this must have something to do with his meeting.

He only raised the envelope for a split second, but it was enough time for Sherlock's well trained eyes to pick up the initials S.M. on the front, and the information was immediately locked away in his mind.

"Well, what a coincidence?" John said with a smile. "We have a similar agenda. It's time to get the new doctor settled in so that he can take over Dr. Hooper's practice."

"Oh yes," Moriarty drawled with a sad look on his face that lacked sincerity. "I heard of Dr. Hooper's passing. What a terrible loss...and his poor daughter. What was her name? Ah yes, Molly. Miss Molly Hooper...I do hope she has somebody to look after her," he said shaking his head.

"She is well looked after by her friends," Sherlock said in a flash, and his expression hardened. "Her safety and well-being can be guaranteed, I assure you."

The corner of Moriarty's lip curled a bit. "Isn't that lovely to hear? What a safe and warm community. Well, I wouldn't want to hold you gentlemen up and make you late."

"And you as well," John agreed. "You need to get to your meeting."

"A pleasure to see you both again. Perhaps we'll meet again soon. Give my best to your family, Mr. Holmes." He gave Sherlock one more slightly disconcerting smile, then tipped his head and continued on his way.

Sherlock and John stood immobile for a moment.

"We did already come to an agreement that we do not trust Mr. Moriarty, correct?" John finally said.

"You are so very correct, Watson." Sherlock emphasized each word carefully as he began walking again.

"Right, good...I just thought it could use repetition, seeing as that was an especially uncomfortable interchange. I can hardly explain it, but that man makes me almost ill to look at." John shivered visibly.

"I'm keeping my eyes open, Watson, believe me. The moment I have anything of substance in my suspicions, I will take action of some sort."

Soon, they arrived at the doctor's new residence, and knocked on the door. John smiled when he saw that the man had already placed a sigh in the window which named his practice. After a few moments and the sound of approaching footsteps, the door opened and the man himself smiled warmly at Sherlock and John.

"Dr. John Watson?" he asked looking back and forth between the two of them.

"Yes, good day to you, I am Dr. Watson," John said smiling back. "It's a pleasure to finally meet you in person after all the letters."

"Yes, indeed! What a relief to have finally arrived, and to meet you." Dr. Charles glanced at Sherlock as well.

"Oh, forgive me, and this is my friend Mr. Sherlock Holmes," John added. "He has been rather vital in keeping the practice running smoothly over the past couple of difficult months."

The man gave Sherlock a bright, almost child-like smile. "Perhaps Dr. Watson has already made my introductions, but it is good to meet you, sir. I am Dr. Tom Charles. Any assistance you have offered is much appreciated by all the residence of the town I am sure. I look forward to taking good care of them now."

Sherlock managed a small, almost amused smile back at the man. "As I guessed...eager and willing. Welcome to your new home, Dr. Charles."

"Thank you very much," he said with a happy nod of his head which made his dark curls bounce a bit. He gestured behind him inside. "I would offer to show you around the place, but I know you've seen it already, and I've hardly begun setting up. I'm sure it would be best to retrieve the patient's information, as you had mentioned before."

"Indeed, why don't we go now, and we can talk more on the way," John offered.

Tom took his hat from the hook behind him and he followed the two men into the road outside. They walked back to the waiting carriage as Tom continued speaking.

"I do hope we will not be much of a bother to Dr. Hooper's family. I would like for them to be as comfortable as possible with my taking over his practice," he said with a concerned expression.

"He only had a family of one, a daughter who survived him. She is still mourning his loss of course, but she is happy to have a qualified doctor take over her father's business. She was a most capable assistant of his in fact," John said.

"His assistant?" Tom asked, looking back at John in wonder. "That is rather unusual is it not?"

"She is not like many women," Sherlock chimed in quickly. "She is unique, in the best sort of way."

"She must feel her father's loss most deeply," Tom said shaking his head.

They all climbed into the carriage, and as it began moving, Tom said with a smile, "I have heard such excellent things about the late Dr. Hooper. He obviously did a wonderful job at caring for his patients, so it would certainly be a privilege to meet his daughter. I would like to offer my sympathies, and of course assure her of my best efforts to follow the path her father began."

Sherlock looked across at Tom, and the poor detective had no way to deduce what this day would mean for him, and how it would change things. He couldn't possible know those things as he casually made his answer to the cheerful young man.

"Well then...meet her, you shall."

Hehehe! And thus enters Tom! Was that kind of a surprise development? I know there were some readers that guessed he would be involved in this story, but I'm curious to know if you guys saw him taking the role as the new doctor. I didn't haha! Well, I mean not at first. So I hope you liked it, and you're all ready for some more drama! This will add a new dimension to things in the upcoming chapters. Ok, thanks for reading and please tell me your thoughts on here or on Tumblr! I love to hear from you. See you on chappy 14! ;D

*Thanks Pillowslave for editing and helping me organize my thoughts as usual. You're THE WOMAN...but not THAT woman. ;P*