I still don't have a beta reader, so if there are any glaring mistakes, or if you like it, please let me know!

The next morning, John found himself sitting in Dr. Sarah Sawyer's office, waiting for her to be done with an early morning patient. He had been woken earlier that morning by her call asking him to come in and work. The call surprised him, considering they hadn't had any contact for quite a while. He fought with his feelings, not sure that he wanted to see Sarah after all that time. Another voice in his head told him to go. This would be good for him.

As he waited, his mind wandered to Molly and Greg. When he had returned to the flat last evening, John found them snuggling on the couch. He could tell from the way they were positioned on the couch they had been making out, but stopped when they heard John. He smirked at them as he made his way up to his room.

"What are you doing?" John caught Molly, that morning, in the process of sneaking out when he came down to make coffee.

"I, um, have to be to work early this morning." John cold tell she was lying. She wouldn't make eye contact as she threw on her jacket.

"You're not going to say goodbye?" John said as she started to leave.

She turned around and walked back to John and hugged him. "Thank you, John."

John could hear the tremor in her voice and as she pulled away she had a nervous smile on her lips. Molly held up her hand. "I'll make sure I take care of this."

"Molly, that's not what I meant." John grabbed her arm. When she finally met his gaze, her big brown eyes were full of a deep sadness that was all too familiar to John

"John, I don't know what to think. The last few months have all been a blur, and now with Greg, I don't know what to do. The man's not even divorced and I was snogging with him on your couch."

She sniffed and wiped her nose. John watched the tears well up in her eyes and his heart lurched into his throat.

"I...I think I love him John, but I wouldn't handle it if he didn't feel the same way..." She paused. "I'm sorry but I can't..."

"You have to at least say good bye to him."

He could see Molly's chin trembling and a tear ran down her cheek. Then she turned and ran out of the flat.

"Sorry 'bout that. She just need-" Sarah's voice interrupted John's reverie. "Are you okay?"

"Oh, yes, fine. I'm fine." John gave her a small smile.

"Okay," Sarah paused and a look of concern came over her pretty face. When John didn't continue, she shuffled the papers on her desk to one pile on the side. "Anyway, thank you for coming, I wasn't sure if you would even return my call."

"I was honestly surprised when your number popped up on my phone." John paused and shifted in his seat. "I suppose I owe you an apology for not keeping in touch since you called a couple of months ago. Thank you for that."

"I had to know if you were okay." She paused and smiled back at him. "How are you holding up?"

John drew in a deep breath. "I'm surviving. I am glad you called. It'll be good to get back into the practice again, if you'll have me."

"Just as long as you don't fall asleep." She winked at him.

"I had some coffee this morning, and depending on how the day goes, I'll probably need some this afternoon."

"I'm down two people, even after calling you in, so you will definitely need that second coffee!" She laughed and it made John smile, a true genuine smile; something that he hadn't done in a very long time. He leaned forward and rested his hand on hers. She looked at him wide-eyed.

"Thank you."

"For what?"

He pursed his lips. "For giving me a second chance. I don't know if I would have if I was in your shoes."

"John, I thrive on second chances." She smiled and the light hit her eyes just right and John's heart suddenly decided to stop for a brief moment. "Okay, let's get going!"

"Concentrate..."

Greg's eyes flew open and he sat upright on the couch. He was breathless as he looked around, not seeing anyone in the flat. However the curtain moved just enough, like a small breeze had swept through.

He put his head in his hands, then rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands.

"Damn if it didn't sound like Sherlock..."

Greg looked around again and realized there was something missing.

"Molly..." He said as he stood and walked into the kitchen. He found a note next to the coffee pot.

'Greg,

I received a call from Dr. Sawyers office requesting my services. I'll tell you about her later. I made this pot this morning, so it should still be good. Molly had to leave early to go to work. We need to pick up groceries if you plan on staying for a while. I'll text you when I'm off, we can meet for a pint.

John.'

"She didn't say good bye..."

"What's that dear?" Mrs. Hudson's voice startled him.

"Oh, right. Good morning Mrs. Hudson."

"Good morning, Greg. Will you be staying long?" The landlady said as she started picking up coffee mugs.

"Sorry, I thought John told you."

"Told me what, dear?" Mrs. Hudson said as she filled the sink with water.

"Um, that I'm staying until I can find a place of my own."

"Oh, that's great, dear, but I was wondering if you were going to be here very long this morning? I was going to make you some coffee and breakfast, but I see coffee was already made." She refreshed Greg's cup and he nodded his thanks.

"Yeah, looks like John made some before he left."

"Left? For where?" She said as she washed John's mug and whatever dishes were in the sink.

"I guess a Dr. Sawyer called him and needed him at her practice." He read off the note and took a drink of his coffee.

"Oh, she's such a nice girl. I'm glad that you are sticking around. It was getting quiet with just John around. Plus I-" She paused in the middle of rinsing the mugs. The other looked at her expectantly.

"Everything okay?"

"Well, I probably shouldn't say anything, being the kind of man that John is, but..." Mrs. Hudson chewed her thumb. "I would hear him crying late at night. Plus, there are some nights he wakes with night terrors. It scares me to pieces, and the first time it happened, I raced up here and found him in a tizzy, racing around the flat. Oh, Greg, it was awful." She bit her lip and looked off into the distance as if remembering something.

"Mrs. Hudson, has he had anything of the sort lately?" Greg asked as he dried the cups and put them in the cupboard.

"Oh, no dear. The last one I can remember was about a week ago." She grabbed the coffee pot and gestured at Greg. "Do you want the rest of this?"

"No, thank you Mrs. Hudson. Listen, I will have my share of the rent to you in the next few days, I promise." He patted her on the arm.

"Thank you!" She called as he bounded out of the room. "And I'm not your housekeeper!"

"Yes, Mrs. Hudson.

Greg had called Molly twice already. Once before he went into the shower and another as he walked out of the flat. He didn't want to seem desperate, but he also wanted to know why she had left with out at least waking him. He understood that she was in a hurry to leave, but still...

He tapped his phone against his chin as he watched the London scenery pass by as he sat in the cab. He was going to enjoy living in the city if it meant having this view everyday. He even debated selling his car; but he enjoyed the freedom of that too much. He groaned softly, thinking about what a debacle getting his car from his old place would be. Greg looked at his phone and gritted his teeth. He would get a hold of Molly, even if it meant storming down her front door.

'What the hell,' he thought as he shook his head. He had never had a woman affect him quite this much; not since when him and his wife first started dating. Even then, he couldn't remember having such strong feelings. What was it about Molly? She wasn't his type; she had long red hair that was soft; he generally preferred blondes. Molly had deep brown eyes that were either smiling or full of nervous tension. He generally preferred blue eyes. She was curvy in all the right places, soft to the touch and smelled like raspberries.

Greg rubbed his temple and squeezed his eyes shut. He was starting to think thoughts that would make Molly blush.

There was another thing. That bright smile that could take down a thousand empires.

"Hey, this is your stop." The cabbies voice brought him out of his reverie.

"Yep, thanks," Greg said as he paid the cab driver and stepped out of the cab. Greg's breath came out in little white puffs as he looked up at the building in front of him. The cold and gray building blended into the cold and gray London air as Greg sighed and stepped forward to his fate.

Molly frowned at her phone as Greg called for the second time. She had just stepped out of the shower and a second wave of guilt washed over her. Her thumb hovered over the answer button when the call went to voice-mail. She chewed at her lip and thought of all the scenarios that would happen between them and none of them were good.

But last night was good. He knew all the places to touch and kiss and if Molly had been more prepared, and they hadn't been on Sher-...

"Damn. Damn. Damn you Sherlock." She put the phone down and continued drying herself.

How many times had she imagined herself with Sherlock on that couch? Too many to count, for sure. But, they weren't as soft, they weren't as loving as Greg had been last night. They were awkward and scary, like his personality, always in control, dominating her in every way, not letting her touch him, at all. The thought still turned her on, but not as much as thinking about Greg's touches and the way he kissed-

The ringing of Molly's phone brought her out of her daydreams. She found that she still wasn't dry as she checked the number. It wasn't one she recognized and she let it go to voice mail.

"Focus Molly Hooper, focus." She told her reflection as she finished drying herself. She took the bandages off of her hand and tugged at the stitches underneath and hissed. Cursing under her breath she grabbed her rubbing alcohol from under the sink and a wash cloth. Biting her lip, Molly poured a little onto the wash cloth and dabbed it onto the stitches.

'Damn you, Jim,' she screamed into her towel.

Molly argued with herself as she finished dressing to take her mind off the pain, and came to the damning conclusion that she really does like Greg Lestrade. Her confession of love for him to John earlier might have been a bit strong, but so were her feelings for him. Molly only hoped that his feelings were just as strong, and he wasn't using her to get over his soon to be ex-wife.

Molly sighed and finished her coffee and grabbed her things and locked her door. As she descended the stairs on her front porch, she spied a flyer on the ancient gas lamp on the sidewalk in front of her house. As she drew closer, she saw what looked like the profile of Sherlock and over the eyes was a stripe of yellow. In the yellow were the words "BELIEVE IN SHERLOCK". She glanced down the sidewalk and saw that there were other fliers on the other lamps.

"Molly! Good morning! Aren't these crazy?" Craig's voice startled her and he apologized as he helped her pick up her things.

"Yes, they are...interesting."

"Is this the first time you're seeing one of these?"

"I've seen fliers on the poles and lamps around town, but I've never paid attention to them. And I've never seen fliers in this neighborhood."

"Well, maybe we'll have to go on a quick drive after dinner tonight, if that's okay?" Craig adjusted his glasses. "We are still on for tonight?"

"I- yes." Molly gave him a small smile, trying not to stare at his fascinating blue eyes.

"Great, some over at six-thirty and I will take you to a couple places that have some gorgeous graffiti dedicated to this brilliant man." He gave her a dazzling smile.

"You knew Sherlock?" She cocked her head at him.

"No, I've only read about him and his amazing talents. I don't think he was a fake. I have my own crazy theories. It's too bad that tabloid had to make him look like a mad man...What?"

Molly was awestruck.

"Sorry, I've just never met anyone who didn't know him well, to believe in him."

"So, you knew Sherlock?"

"I-I worked with him at Bart's morgue, he would come down and experiment and run tests at the lab." Molly swallowed hard and looked away. "I was angry at that tabloid for a long time for portraying him in that light. Still am actually."

"I'm sorry Molly, I didn't know." Craig touched her elbow.

"It's alright." She waved him off and sniffed. She hated getting emotional in front of strangers. "I should get going."

"Yes, 6:30. Don't forget!" He started to walk away. "I want to know more about the amazing Sherlock Holmes!"

She smiled halfheartedly. 'Don't we all.'

"Where are you?" Mycroft said as he sat in front of his large fire-place.

"Now, that wouldn't be playing fair, would it?" Sherlock's voice echoed from the phone.

"Don't, Sherlock. John almost saw you again last night. You need to -"

"I wasn't in London last night."

Silence hung thick in the air as Mycroft considered his brothers words.

"Mycroft?"

"Yes, I see." Mycroft took a sip of his scotch.

"Are your camera's malfunctioning, brother? Or are there ghosts on Baker Street?"

The elder Holmes detected amusement in his brothers tone and frowned at the fireplace. "I need you to tread carefully, Sherlock. I can't afford to have you traipsing across Europe in a blaze of glory."

"Hmm...no need to worry about me. I can take care of my self, remember?"

Mycroft flexed his jaw at Sherlock's icy tone. "I do remember, dear brother. Please don't have a debacle like that again. I can't watch you if you are off the grid."

"Maybe that's what I want! Maybe, just maybe, dear brother, it's what I need. If I was off the grid, I could get into just as many places as you can. As someone once told me, in a world of locked doors, the man with the key is king."

"Do not take that tone with me! I need you safe and alive or-"

"Or what? Your plan is shot? I have a plan as well, and my own team to watch my back." Sherlock paused. "I have watchers on Baker Street as well, Mycroft. Don't think I don't know what's going on there."

"If you decide to fly to America, I have the necessary clearance for you."

Another moment of silence lingered over the brothers, until Sherlock cleared his throat. "Thank you, Mycroft."

Sherlock hung up and looked out of the window of the train headed to Moscow. America was his destination eventually. Unfinished business awaited him in Russia.