A/n: I'm sorry for such a long delay! The good news is that I'm now a chapter or two ahead so updates should go back to being fairly regular (weekly is my goal!).

I'd like to say thank you to everyone who has reviewed, added the story to their alerts and/or favorites, and are sticking around to see what I post next!

Next, as always, I owe a big thanks to my betas, Amalia Kensington and coloradoandcolorado, who are both currently working on their own Sherlock and Molly stories. Please be sure to check them out!

Finally, I still own nothing. I'll let you know if that changes but signs point to highly doubtful!

Someone I Used to Know

Chapter 7

"So John mentioned to me again that he has yet to meet Paul," Mary said casually as she moved a stack of books into a box.

"You and John are talking often?" I asked from the kitchen area where I was packing plates. I had settled on a two-bedroom flat near Moorgate station. The building had security and an elevator. No longer would I need to worry about carrying the shopping down stairs and instead, I would be able to take the lift up five floors to my flat.

It was a week and a half before Christmas and rather than decorating my small flat, I was preparing to move in three days. Unfortunately, the morgue had seen a surge of cases, mostly open and shut, but it had caused me and the other two pathologists to pull even longer hours than normal.

"So are you and John… a… you and John?" I asked with a smile, hoping the slight change in subject would distract my friend for at least a few minutes. Before Mary moved back, I had never thought of introducing John to any of my friends. In fact, if they hadn't both run across me I wouldn't have introduced them. I was never the type to set friends up and meddle.

"Hardly, we've only been out a handful of times," she replied. "Usually just for coffee in the afternoon, hardly normal date time."

"You are evading," I said, hoping she would forget that I had brought up this subject to avoid the subject of introducing John to Paul.

"I believe you are as well," she replied, seeing right through me as usual. "I don't see the big deal in introducing Paul to John. It's not like they are completely dissimilar. And while I've only met Paul twice, I think he and John would get on well enough. It's hardly like you are dating John's old flatmate. Although from what you have both said, it seems his interests in women leaned more towards the dead and intriguing variety."

"I know… it's just, Paul has one or two traits in common with… with Sherlock and I suppose a similar bone structure. I just don't want John to think I went out and found a Sherlock clone to date," I replied as I moved on to the mugs and glasses in the next cabinet.

It's not that I didn't want John to meet "Paul," but in a way I was nervous that John would just know instantly that we had lied to him and I wasn't prepared to see the look of disappointment he would give me. I know one day I'll have to see that look. I almost hope to see that look one day since it will mean that the lying is done and Sherlock has cleared his name and once again saved his friends. But maybe a selfish part of me also knows that when I see that look, it's all over. No more Paul. No more waking up beside Sherlock, no matter how rare of an instance it is now. I also know Sherlock will cause the meeting when he is ready and that "meeting" John will be the ultimate test for his disguise. Not only does he need to convince John but also anyone that may be watching him. "Now back to you and John…?"

"Honestly Mol, we aren't 18 anymore! Must I put a label on it?" she asked as I noticed a slight blush work its way onto her face.

"A label on what?" Sherlock, disguised as Paul, asked as he let himself into the flat. While he had mentioned stopping in the city in the next few days to oversee some of his own things being moved into the new flat, I hadn't expected him to step foot into my old home ever again.

"Hello, Mary," he added as he walked over to me and kissed my cheek. I smiled at the simplicity of it before remembering my confusion over him being there at all.

"Hello Paul!" Mary called from her spot by the bookshelf. "You don't by chance have any plans tonight, do you? It's just I've started seeing another friend of Molly's, John Watson, and I thought it would be a lovely idea for all of use to go to dinner tonight."

"Really, Mary, I'm in the middle of moving. The only things I have unpacked are a set of clothes for work and sweatpants. There's a million things to pack and I haven't even made a dent in it yet!" I said hoping to again prolong the Paul and John meeting. I wanted to evade the experience of being in the same room as both of them. It would make the lie I had been feeding to John so much more real. How could I truly continue to lie to John to his face when his best friend was actually standing in the room with us?

"You'll need to eat! And we hardly need to go anywhere formal," Mary added. "Besides, I asked Paul." She obviously thought if she could get Paul to side with her, that I would be forced to agree.

"I think it's a good idea," Sherlock said speaking up. "We can go to the pub up the road that you like so much," he said turning to me. If I hadn't been looking at him I would have missed to quick grin he flashed in my direction. He obviously had a plan for this and quite possibly had been expecting Mary to insist on the four of us going out together and had once again neglected to let me in on it.

Typical.

Four hours later, Sherlock and I stood together outside of the pub waiting for Mary and John to arrive. The two had planned on going out that night already, and John was happy to have the two of us join them afterwards. I had also asked Mary to pass on my concerns about John thinking Paul may be a Sherlock clone. While he could fool just about anyone, I was concerned about how well Sherlock could fool those who knew him best. Admittedly, I even had moments when I had trouble remembering the two were the same person, but I think it had more to do with my confusion on our real/fake relationship and less to do with Sherlock's performance as Paul.

As we watched John and Mary exit the cab, Sherlock moved his arm around my waist, lightly resting his hand on my coat-covered hip. His face broke into a smile as they walked over to us.

"So, you must be John Watson!" Paul, and it was completely the persona of Paul showing, said. "Molly has mentioned you several times and of course so has Mary!" He finished with a smile as he offered his free hand to him. "Paul Cross, glad we could finally meet."

I had noticed over the past few weeks that Sherlock had been working on perfecting Paul's accent. He had obviously been preparing for this meeting without me fully realizing it. Gone was his natural polished, deep London accent, and instead he now spoke in a slightly higher, northern accent with slight tones of Scottish in it.

Sherlock's typical rigid posture was also completely replaced with Paul's more comfortable posture. While he wasn't slouched over, he also wasn't standing at his full height, a subtle difference that helped to take away from Sherlock's normal towering presence.

His overall appearance was also lacking its slight Sherlock traces it usually had when he visited me. When I saw him the week before, he had let his hair grow out slightly from the shorter cut he had been wearing since The Fall and some of his darker roots had begun to show through. Luckily, he had dyed his hair and had it cut before coming to the flat today. A few of his trips recently had also taken him to warmer climates and his normally pale skin was now slightly darker by a shade or two.

To complete the Paul look, Sherlock had replaced his preferred tight suit with a pair of jeans and an expensive looking dark green jumper. His signature jacket was replaced with a shorter wool coat. I had to smile though when I noticed him pulling a scarf on as part of his preparation to leave the flat that night. It was a gesture I has seen him do so many times automatically in the morgue as he rushed out, John trailing behind. The final touch was a pair of dark-framed glasses that I had seen him wear from time to time. They helped to distract from the distinctive bone structure of Sherlock's face.

John returned Sherlock's warm greeting and as a group we moved inside the dimly lit restaurant. The place was a personal favorite of mine thanks to their wood-fire pizzas and interesting drink menu. We were seated in a booth near the back, secluded from most of the place. Luckily, it was a calm night and the noise level was at a minimum, loud enough for background noise but not so loud that we couldn't hear each other.

Once we had ordered, John's focus was once again on analyzing Paul from across the table.

"Molly never mentioned what it is you do," John said.

"I'm an independent contractor for the government; it's a far more posh name for what my position really is. It allows to me to travel from time to time though, which I enjoy," he replied. "Although I can't really say much more than that to be honest. Molly mentioned you use to be in the Army?"

From there they discussed various places they had both been. It was the most I had ever heard Sherlock as Paul talk. In fact, he was talking more than I had ever seen Sherlock talk in one sitting with the exception of his explaining some brilliant deduction. I couldn't decide if all of the talking was because Sherlock missed his former flatmate, or if it was part of the Paul disguise. Maybe it was a bit of both.

Overall the meeting seemed to go smoothly, and if John suspected that Paul wasn't who he said he was, he didn't show any signs of concern. Now we would have to wait to see if he said anything to Mary or myself in the coming days.