A/N: Woah I didn't think the story would peak ppl's interests! Thank you for writing the reviews. I love reading them! Okay so, I've plotted quite a few chapters for but as usual, I'm worried about mucking the story up and so I won't post everything at once.

*deep breaths* Here goes.

"Dhon—" Sherlock cleared his throat. "Don't be ridiculous Molly."

John turned curiously to look at the consulting detective. Only once had he heard slur or stutter in front of a woman, and she had been naked.

Molly, on the other hand, was not impressed if at all fazed by his blunder. "Why? I mean you're halfway there, deducing the bad. Or is that all you can find in people?"

Sherlock pursed his lips to a thin line. He looked as if he was going to rebuttal, but his eyes settled on just deducing her. What he saw made him balk and it was all John could do not to laugh. "You're serious. You actually want me to find you a boyfriend."

His statement was met with raised eyebrows from the pathologist; not of surprise, but jest, as if daring him interpret her any less clearly. Sherlock then turned to John with an incredulous look, as if he needed verification that this was actually happened. John refused to provide any social cues on what should happen next. He was taking a backseat for this one.

They all stood in some ridiculous form of animation as they waited for someone to crack. It felt like minutes, but it must have honestly been a few seconds for someone did crack.

"Marriage-material or occasional bed-warmer?"

John choked back a gasp. Even Molly appeared to be thrown off by his words. He was going to do it? Sherlock must have garnered confidence from their stunned faces for his stood up a little straighter, his signature smirk donning his smug face.

"You're serious." Molly stated.

It was Sherlock's turn to raise his eyebrows in mock expectation. Molly only hesitated a beat before making her choice.

"Marriage material then."

John noticed Sherlock's slump slightly. But he could gather no insight from it for Sherlock was back to his cryptic self.

"If we have that settled. Can we now we please look at Tim Knightley's toxic reports? We still have a crazed pharmacist to catch."

The more John looked back, the funnier it all seemed to be, especially the stupefied look Sherlock got. That was gold, he repeated many times during his retelling. Had Molly not blindsided them and gone a different route he would have kept the mental note to bring up that face during his best man speech for their wedding.

"It's not too late for that."Mary said as balanced Elizabeth on on her waist. They had taken the conversation to the kitchen where she could prepare a bottle.

"Yeah but,"John started as he munched on an apple. His arm still tingled from where Mary smacked him minutes ago. Apparently waiting eight hours to relay this development was far too long."I know you think he fancies her and all…"

"John." She gave him a pointed look.

"Okay, we think he fancies her but this is Sherlock Holmes. He's not the most conventional bloke."

"He's your best friend isn't he?"

"What does that have to do with anything? He's Sherlock bloody Holmes."

Mary rolled her eyes. "You're the one who said his interferences were getting out of hand. And we both know Sherlock doesn't waste energy on things he doesn't care about."

John hummed noncommittally as he took another bite. That was true, at least concerning that Henry character. John didn't know how but he even got the armed unit to make the arrest, and the man hadn't even been armed! Poor sod.

"No." Mary's soft voice cut through his thoughts. She was gently prying a measuring cup away from her fingers. "That is not edible, Lizzie love."

John smiled warmly at the scene. He had come a long way since meeting Sherlock Holmes. The roller-coaster that had always been his life never hinted it would lead him to all this; domestic bliss, as Sherlock would say in a contemptuous voice. If there's anything he's learned in the past few years, it was that things were never really as they seemed. Maybe Mary was right. Maybe there was more to the odd turn of events.

"Then why did he agree?" John asked, going to the plight his best friend had set on himself. After the toxic reports he had promptly left the lab, never returning to Barts for the rest of the day. Any attempts made to broach the subject had been deflected, not that there was much time once he got a fresh trail on the killer.

"Because he's a hopeless idiot?" Mary offered.

"Hm." He took another bite out of his apple. The great Sherlock Holmes, a hopeless idiot. Somehow that wasn't very far fetched.

A/N: Are we still there?