Sherlock scanned the mobile that Mycroft had returned to him earlier and a sigh left him unbidden. He focused on John and Mary across from him, while he showed the message to Mycroft. As Mycroft lifted the onboard telephone to give the driver new instructions, Sherlock met John's gaze and said simply, "Lestrade. We're needed at St. Bart's."

Confused, John Watson blinked a moment, "There's a body already? That's rather quick."

Sherlock shook his head as he typed a message, "Possible. The message simply said St. Bart's, urgently." There was a muted chirp, a look of consternation crossed Sherlock's face before he blanked it, his eyes suddenly gone cold, "He says not."

"Molly," Mary murmured under her breath, "It's her shift today, isn't it?"

John shrugged slightly; he'd never really thought about it, she always seemed to be there. He wasn't really surprised when Sherlock confirmed that she would be at work. How like Sherlock, he thought, he can remember her schedule but he can't remember to bring bloody tea home.

"Of course, I remember, John," Sherlock grumbled, reading the thought from his facial expression, "She's the only pathologist worth working with."

Mary laughed, her hand settling on John's knee, "You mean she's the only one who'll work with you."

Sherlock inclined his head, conceding her point with a certain grace. Mary smiled at him, resting her head on John's shoulder for a moment. John patted her hand and settled into the seat, taking the comfort she offered, thankful that they were only minutes from the hospital. After a few moments, Sherlock cleared his throat, attracting Mycroft's attention, "Whilst I'm loathe to ask a favour, honour demands it, might we impose upon you to convey Mary safely home."

Mycroft gave him a withering stare, "It was presumed, Sherlock. Don't be an idiot, or think for a moment I am going anywhere without you. We are all aware of what happened the last time. Mummy would be furious if I set you lose on London without supervision. Rest assured plans have been made; a team is sweeping the house as we speak."

"Her safety is paramount," Sherlock began, only to be cut off by Mycroft stating, "Again, I am aware. I have arranged for my best to meet us."

When the car pulled into the ambulance bay at St. Bart's, John stared at Mycroft before shifting his gaze to the woman waiting. Mycroft nodded at her as they exited the car and Anthea smiled impishly at John before she slid into the car across from Mary, closing the door firmly and the car sped away.

After a second, Sherlock said in exasperation, "Really, John, you still think she's his assistant? When have you ever seen Mycroft waste an asset?" Sherlock gestured for John to lead, Sherlock and Mycroft locking into step behind him as they paced down the hallway. As they stepped around the corner, John stopped abruptly; staring at the sea of London's finest blocking the hallway. Donovan glanced up and then away, gesturing urgently to someone. John was shocked when the police parted and Anderson emerged from the group and gestured them through to the doorway. "Christ," he whispered as he took in the total destruction of the pathology lab. He was so focused on the destruction of the lab that he barely heard Sherlock's pained whisper, 'Molly.'