A/N: so! Who fancies a game!

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Sherlock left the hospital and hailed a taxi, checking the driver carefully before he stepped in.

He sighed. It had gone without a hitch for the most part. He still wasn't certain exactly what was going on in Molly's head. Hell, he wasn't certain exactly what was going on in his. But he'd given another stellar performance. Now he had to find the second movie and watch it.

A text beeped on his phone. He opened it. I didn't care, really. But Molly did. And she's what counts in this relationship.

More hints, more riddles. All right. Molly was the one who counted. So this was about making her happy? Just to kill her? Or kill them both? Because after watching that DiCaprio man and that Danes woman end up dead together he wasn't certain now. So far love and death were the only concrete ties. And he did not care for either one.

A stop at the same video store yielded Dangerous Liaisons and more chocolate. Sherlock had been tempted not to get any candy, or maybe to get some Red Hots to spite Moriarty, but decided against it. There was a clue in the remark he'd made, and if Sherlock was going to win this game he was going to have to step out of his box—and comfort zone—fast.

Was that why Moriarty had taunted him? Told him he had no chance of winning? Did he think Sherlock wouldn't be able to pull it off? Well, woe to him if that was it. This was a case. A deranged perverse case, but still a case. With a lot of lives at stake. He wasn't going to give up and concede a loss even if he had to kiss a llama on the mouth.

People at St. Bart's were already gossiping. He'd bought the flowers right in their gift shop, his glare daring the woman behind the counter to say anything. The straining necks, the shifting eyes, the "accidental" barging in to take Molly's vitals or give her trauma therapy or some such nonsense. Sherlock Holmes was buying flowers, and apparently that was more important than anything going on in their own dull lives. So be it, he shrugged. He had important things to do. Like watch a movie and eat chocolate.

John was waiting in the flat for him, his eyes darting up and meeting Sherlock's. "Sherlock," he said, his voice calm and neutral. Too calm and neutral.

"John," he returned the greeting, walking over to the desk. "I need your laptop if you don't mind?"

"Of course you may use it."

Oh, this was worse than he'd thought.

He busied himself washing his hands and getting the movie ready, John watching him like a hawk the entire time. He sat down with a sigh and turned to look at his friend. "Yes, John?"

"You bought Molly flowers," John said accusingly, as if daring Sherlock to deny it.

"Yes." He turned his attention back to the laptop.

"You bought flowers," John persisted. "For Molly. .Flowers."

Sherlock sighed. "Yes.. Now that we've established that for the second time, do you mind if I watch this movie in relative peace?"

"Movie? I'm sorry, did you just say watch a MOVIE?"

Sherlock sighed again. "I really should've bought you a hearing aid for Christmas. YES I SAID A MOVIE!"

"Sherlock, you don't watch movies. And even if you did, Moriarty is out there somewhere, maybe after Molly, definitely after you, and you're going to WATCH A BLOODY MOVIE?"

Sherlock blinked. "There's nothing I can do about that right now."

John goggled at him. "What? Nothing you can… what? Sherlock what the hell is wrong with you!"

"Apart from your yelling?"

"Sherlock, this is Moriarty we're talking about here! You've solved a case with nothing more than a food wrapper and a cricket ball before. And you're telling me there's nothing that you can do right now? Are you insane?"

"Yes, and probably, and in that order!" Sherlock snapped. "PLEASE leave me be, John. It's important that I watch this movie."

"Why? For God's sake, what movie could you possibly be watching that would be so important right now?"

Sherlock cleared his throat. "Dangerous Liaisons."

John blinked. "Why are you watching that?"

"For clues, if you must know. Now, may I please have some peace?"

"Clues? What makes you think there will be clues in a movie?"

"I have my reasons. Please, John. Just trust me."

John threw up his hands. "I give up. This seems mad, but you always know what you're doing. So, yeah. Have at it."

"Thank you." Sherlock hit PLAY and reached into his coat pocket. "Would you like some chocolate?"