Thanks to Byoken, Guest, India'TeamStarkid'J, Danny-Bella-Gubler-Reid and ELY20.

Chapter Five

John was concerned about Sherlock. Ever since he had gone out on a mysterious errand a few nights ago, he'd been more subdued. He would mope around the flat all day, and not even the prospect of a triple homicide would get him excited. Something was seriously wrong. He would refuse to go outside at all, and would often not even bother getting dressed. Whenever John mentioned going to the mortuary, Sherlock would fly into such a rage that something would always end up in pieces on the floor. John was no consulting detective, but he knew that whatever had taken place had something to do with Molly, and he suspected it involved Molly's date with Lestrade and Sherlock's astonishing reaction when he found out it was going to happen.

John was musing on Sherlock's moodiness when the man himself entered the room. He didn't seem as angry as usual. In fact, he seemed positively happy. He walked up to John at sheepishly muttered,

"I need your help."

"Hang on, say that again," John said, grinning widely. Sherlock almost never admitted that he couldn't do something, and he wasn't going to let this pass easily.

"You heard me the first time," Sherlock scowled. "I need your help."

"Okay, okay. What is it?" John was anxious to know what he could do that Sherlock couldn't do himself.

"You... know... feelings and the like, yes?" Sherlock ventured tentatively.

"I guess, but if you want to know what someone's thinking, nobody can know that."

"Yes, yes, you've told me that before," Sherlock replied impatiently. "What I need help with is... how to make someone like you."

John was amazed. Sherlock had never cared of what people had thought of him before. But he could tell that Sherlock was very anxious about someone's opinion of him, and it didn't take a mind like Sherlock's to guess who.

"Alright, you finally figured out that you love Molly and you want her to love you back after some disaster that happened when you went out on the mysterious errand. Don't tell me I'm right, I already know I am." As John said this, he realised he was sounding a bit like Sherlock. Maybe the consulting detective was rubbing off on him.

"But how did you know?" Sherlock seemed dumbfounded that John knew who Sherlock was talking about and that something bad had happened with her.

"So this is how you feel when I don't deduce something straight away. Hmm, seems our roles have reversed, Sherlock." John smirked a little and Sherlock sent him a death glare and told him to just get on with it.

"Alright then, lets get started..."

Molly was sitting at home going over the paperwork from the postmortems she had completed that week. She ran her fingers through her hair and glanced at the clock, which read 11:00. I really should get to bed, she thought, but when she realised she only had one more sheet of paperwork to go she stayed up. It was 11:30 when she finished, but at least she was up to date on work. She was going to look awful in the morning, but it wasn't anything makeup and a hairbrush couldn't fix. She usually only wore lipstick, but when she wanted to impress someone (usually Sherlock) or she had been up late and didn't want to look like a zombie, she went the full mask. But, she reminded herself, this was not to impress Sherlock. No way. He had no respect for her anymore, and she was going to get over him. It might take a few dozen bars of chocolate, but she was going to get over him. She sighed and packed up her paperwork, ready to hit the sack. And she was not going to dream about Sherlock. No way.

A/N: Sorry about the late update, I've got assignments and tests and I've started writing another story too :)