Sherlock burst through the doors of St Bart's, striding passed Molly and Lestrade as he headed for the morgue. While Lestrade jogged, Molly had to nearly run to keep pace.

"Are you sure? Are you absolutely positive?"

"Would I have had Greg call you if I wasn't?"

"Go over it again. What are the facts?"

"Single stab wound to the abdominal wall; entrance point 1.2 centimeters wide, penetration nearly 16.9 centimeters in depth. Evidence of internal trauma to organs and surrounding tissue causing severe and fatal exsanguination. Foreign tissues found in the wound tract, none belonging to the victim. Foreign tissues exhibit signs of being frozen, as well as containing a small, white gold metal band with multiple diamonds in the setting -"

The group had come to the morgue doors, which Sherlock violently threw open.

"And you're sure it's the one Tim gave you?"

"Tom. And yes, it may not have been a long engagement, but yes, I know my own engagement ring when I see it."

Sherlock pulled on a pair of gloves, beginning to examine the body before him.

"What did you do with it after the engagement ended? Top of your vanity? Pawn shop? Rubbish bin?"

"No, I gave it back to him. It was an amicable split, after all. Didn't seem right; keeping it."

Lestrade approached the examination table, looking down as the consulting detective pawed at the victim.

"I'm sorry, could someone please explain to me what is going on here? In English, preferably."

With a deep breath, Molly stood as straight as she could, trying to steady her nerves.

"Do you remember, at John's wedding - Sherlock was going on and on about that unsolved case? The one with the Royal Guard in the bathroom stall?"

"And then it turned out the killer was actually there at the wedding? Yes, of course I remember. Only time I've ever arrested a murderer at a wedding. Well, that I was attending, anyway."

"Do you remember the part where Sherlock asked the guests to give their theories? And then, Tom stood up -"

Greg broke into a smile and had to stop himself from laughing.

"Oh, God, yes! 'Meat dagger,' wasn't it? You were so embarrassed that you practically dragged him back into his seat. Oh, we had a good laugh about it, afterwards."

Molly, however, was not amused, staring at the DI with a grave look. The bemusement soon dropped from Greg's face, replaced with realisation, and then disbelief.

"What? No, it can't be. Don't be daft. It might not have ended well between you two, but Tom would never - I mean, he was such a nice guy!"

"Well, besides that fact that, as Sherlock so helpfully put it, I do seem to fall for sociopaths -"

The aforementioned man failed to suppress a chuckle, angering Molly all the more.

"Unless Tom is the world's best actor, there is no way he's capable of this!"

Greg was now the one to raise his voice.

"Well, obviously, he is, Molly! The evidence is kind of hard to disput! I mean, let's be rational -"

Sherlock straightened, pulling the rubber gloves from his hands with a snap.

"Yes, let's be rational for a moment. The evidence tells us the following: someone who knew about Tim's unfortunate 'meat dagger' theory and of Molly's connection to him, decided to prove his theory right. That narrows it down to anyone at the wedding, anyone who reads John's blog, and/or anyone who might have a grudge against Molly. Not necessarily just Tim."

"Tom."

Molly corrected her friend with a grateful sigh and a small smile. Sherlock nodded.

"Tom. Quite. Lestrade, you said there were only four people in the pub besides the victim. No one else in or out. Were any of them Tom?"

"Well, no. They weren't."

"Which means that he was either the victim of a very specific break-in that he may be unaware of, or he is in danger. Molly, do you still have his address? We shouldn't lose a moment."

Sherlock started for the door, followed closely by Lestrade and Molly.

"Yes, of course. But, it will take some time to get there. It's in Loughton."

The DI and consulting detective both stopped walking, looking at one another in realisation. Molly stopped, too, noticing that her two companions had stopped.

"What? What's wrong?"

Lestrade spoke, eyeing Molly then Sherlock.

"Loughton? Outside the Metropolitan line?"

"Well, yes. He always said he hated living in London, though I never understood why."

The two men exchanged a silent conversation, ending in a heavy sigh from Sherlock.

"Take Anderson. He's least likely to destroy the crime scene."

"Sherlock, I don't understand. Why can't you go with Greg?"

After a pause, Sherlock lifted the leg of his trousers, revealing a small, black box strapped to his leg.

"I'm on a sort of 'house-arrest.' I'm confined to the London Metropolitan Area."

Molly nodded, making a note to ask more questions later.

"Alright. Well then, Greg, I guess it's just you and me, isn't it?"

This statement took Greg aback, looking at Sherlock for some support.

"You - you want to come with me?"

"Molly, I'm not sure that's such a good idea."

"Yeah, I mean, are you sure? Not exactly your area."

"Yes. Not sure it's safe -"

"Stop! Both of you!"

She was wild-eyed and holding out both hands in hopes of silencing them. The two men did as she wished, staring at the medical examiner with great interest. With a deep sigh, she lowered her hands and spoke as calmly as she could.

"Look. I am not fragile or something to be coddled. I am not the same silly, doe-eyed, sappy, fainting girl I once was. It's about time you took me on a proper case again, and it might as well be the one that involves me."

Sherlock took a moment to process her words, then nodded at the DI. With a defeated sigh, Greg returned the nod.

"Alright. But if anything happens, you are to stay behind me and hide!"

Molly nearly squeaked with excitement at his words.

"Just, let me grab my coat, and I'll be right back!"

As she dashed through the doors and out of sight, Sherlock lowered his voice, turning to Lestrade.

"The slightest bit of danger, you get her out of there. If it means letting the suspect go, you let him go. If her ex is capable of this, he's capable of anything."

"Of course! I'd never let anything - Hang on, I thought you said that is wasn't Tom."

He gave the DI a knowing glare as Molly bounded back into the room. She wore an excited smile with her warm coat and jumper.

"Shall we, then?"

Lestrade gave Sherlock one last look, then headed for the door.

"I'll call you when we get there."

But, Molly hung back, turning to the consulting detective.

"Thank you, Sherlock."

"For what?"

She spoke softly and with complete sincerity, getting just the slightest bit closer to him.

"For being kind."

Leaving the bewildered man in the hallway, she gave him a small smile before passing Greg who held the door for her.

"Did you really faint?"

"God, it was only twice!"