Molly entered the small flat, tucking her hair behind her ear and looked awkwardly around the room. Mary and John were sitting side by side on the couch, both tense but determined Mrs. Hudson was sitting on the wooden chair by the table, pale and worried. Greg stood at the other end of the couch, staring out into the street so she couldn't make out his face.

'Ah Molly.' Sherlock greeted her from his chair as though less than an hour ago he'd hadn't been about to vanish into the ether forever. She glanced around and looked puzzled as he indicated for her to sit, but the only chair free was John's. Even Mycroft looked slightly perplexed by this action, as she sat down she had to do her best to disguise the fact that she was carrying. Luckily, John's chair's significance seemed to disguise her deceit, as everyone's swivelled from it to Sherlock, John and to Molly and back again.

'What's the plan?' Greg, the first to summon his voice, looked towards Mycroft who was now examining Molly closely, fingers lightly tapping Billy.

'First of all, Molly moves into 221B. Then we will start investigating the case. Security measures will be put into place, courtesy of Mycroft.' Sherlock may have continued to speak, but her annoyance drowned him out. Her jaw clenched, hand twitching towards her gun. The only person who noticed, or seemed to at least, was Mary, the way her eyes tracked her, Molly could feel the hairs on the back of her neck rise.

Huh.

'Molly will not.' Greg's eyebrows shot to his hairline, John barely whispered an "Oh boy" and Mrs. Hudson's hands just fluttered lightly off the table. Sherlock looked at her, head tilted to the side, looking a little flummoxed by her reaction. She reclined in the chair, crossing her legs at the knee and staring at him passively. They mirrored each other as they narrowed their eyes, eyebrows arching and glared at one another.

'Excuse me?' Sherlock's lips tightened slightly and he leaned forward a ripple running through his facial muscles. She simply bounced her foot, hands daintily clasped on her knee.

'I won't do as I'm ordered Sherlock.'

'It's for your own safety.'

'I don't see you ordering anyone else about.' Mrs. Hudson looked between the pair, eyes widening as she got up slowly, chair squeaking loudly. She pottered into the kitchen, no doubt about to make tea for everyone.

'I. I feel that is necessary. For you, to remain safe.' Molly examined him closely, eyebrows knitting together as she noticed him swallow.

'Well I am not someone you can boss around, Sherlock. And don't try manipulation I might just slap you again. I can defend myself, you know that.'

'I need to ensure it.'

She exhaled sharply, shaking her head and trying not react, there was a part of her, one she thought was long gone was telling her to crush him. Verbally, not physically, Molly always played it smart. It was amazing that Sherlock had the ability to shatter her self-confidence so completely, when she was more than adapt at it herself.

Her phone dinged loudly, Molly, took out her phone, lips tight and doing her utmost not to grind her teeth. An email from Sam Winchester. He was asking for her to contact them ahead of schedule, he may have found something, but he needed more on Moriarty and Sherlock. She also had one from Mike asking her to come in, a couple of police officers wanted to ask her about the break in.

'I have to go. Sally Donovan wants to talk to me.' She got up, skimming through the email from Sam, thinking about what she was going to tell him. Mrs. Hudson looked at her imploringly as she returned with tea and biscuits, she smiled apologetically still making towards the door but she paused at the doorway.

'Don't follow me. Billy can keep you updated on my whereabouts.' She turned back and stared Sherlock dead in the eyes. She didn't blink, she didn't waver in fact he was the first to look away, nodding almost imperceptivity.

'Molly...' He sounded apologetic and for the first time it was showing in his face, she sighed in response and shrugged.

'I have to go. My Moriarty files are gone, and they are going to check that I didn't get rid of them.'

Greg nodded at her, clearly wondering if he should go with her but she just inhaled, shaking her head and staring disapprovingly at Sherlock.

'Are you sure you didn't see anything?' Sergeant Donovan gazed at her imploringly as she sat at the other side of her desk, fingers drumming on it. Molly frowned biting her lip, hair sliding forward masking her face. She pushed it back and shook her head.

'Honestly, no one had been asking about it, everyone focused on Sherlock, barely a thought to Moriarty. They would've had to take their time looking for them.'

'Why?'

'I. I deliberately misfiled them.'

'Why?' Sally's face harden, voice dropping and eyes carefully tracking her, the other officer in the room stopped his search and looked over curiously at her.

'I thought that, maybe it would help. I had to make sure that the others were safe, No one knew, everyone just...' Molly started breathing heavily, remembering how worried she had been when Sherlock told her the risks of their plan not working. For two years, she held three lives in her hands and had nowhere to turn.

'Left you alone after The Fall.' She finished, jaw moving to the right and leaning back, staring at her with her head tilted back. Sally's eyes swept up and down the room, trying to hide the look of disdain as she spied the picture of all of them at 221B at Sherlock's return party. Molly glanced up at it, glad that Tom was the one who took it, she already had the reminder of one over-bearing, needy guy in her life, the last thing she needed was another one.

'Okay, we probably will call again. If you think of anything, please don't hesitate to call.' Sally stood up nodding, and smiling tightly and both officers left the room. She got up, waving the both off, before turning and closing the door behind her. Molly leaned up against it, locking it blindly as her phone began to ring.

'Yeah.'

'Ah is this Molly?'

'Yes, yes of course, I apologise Sam, just got a lot going on here.' Molly pinched the bridge of her nose shutting the blinds on her windows and leaning against the desk.

'Understandable. I know we said we'd wait for you to call back, but I'm ignoring Dean. He doesn't trust you.'

'Dean... brother I'm guessing? And I can't say that I blame him, but thank you for getting back to me.'

'No problem. I just, I have this feeling y'know.'

'About my case? That sinking feeling in your gut that you just can't shake? Yeah, luckily I'm in a situation where everyone expects me to feeling that.'

'They don't know.'

'About my past, gods no. The past is the past,at least that's what I've tried to live since then. What about the case got you interested? I thought you were just trying to appease a slightly paranoid woman.'

'You mentioned something about a Crow in one of the emails?' She sat down in her chair, both elbows resting on her knees as she spoke to Sam.

'Ahh yeah, in the two years Sherlock was dismantling the network, it was something that kept being mentioned. I don't think he figured out what it meant or... he didn't give it much credence.'

'Hm.'

'I thought it strange something about it just didn't sit right with me.'

'You have good instincts. I think it might be linked to a demon we know.'

'A demon you know. As in a continuing relationship?' Molly gaped into the empty room, biting back on the curses about to roll off of it.

'The world has changed.'

'Clearly. Who's the demon?' She blinked, closing her eyes and coughing slightly, Sam shifted on the other side. Molly really had to wonder about these American hunters, everything seemed backwards with them.

'Crowley.'

'Name seems familiar. I'll have to go through my Dad's notes.'

'If this does trace to him... I'm taking the case.'

'What about Dean?'

'I can convince him.'

'Good luck with that.' Molly stilled and stood up, hand automatically reaching towards her gun, stepping to the left of the door.

'I have to go, I will contact you later.' She whispered before cutting him off and slipping her phone into her back pocket. As the lock began to twitch she stood parallel to the door, raising the gun to her shoulder, wrapping her left hand around it.

'A gun, Really Molly?' Sherlock turned and narrowed his eyes at her, Molly scowled taking a beat longer than was necessary to lower the gun.

'You can never be too careful.' She spat out sarcastically walking back around her desk and putting the gun back into the back of her pants. Sherlock sat down as she gathered up her notes from her days work, and watched her closely.

'Have you even fired a gun before?' He asked resting his feet on her desk, to which she responded by batting him off. As she sat down on the desk, next to where his legs used to be, she pursed her lips.

'Can't you deduce that?'

'You're still angry at me.'

'For a genius, you really do like stating the obvious.'

'I explained why I did it.'

'And that makes it okay? Let's see, I spend years doing whatever you asked, because I'm a freaking idiot, I save your life, I lie my ass off for TWO FUCKING YEARS to all of our friends, and then you toss it down the drain for a case.'

'I didn't-'

'You could've died Sherlock. One slip of the needle, air embolism, one bad batch and you are bleeding out your eyeballs, gangrene, how many other possible consequences are there? Too many. This is how you thank me?'

She sighed again, head dropping forward, and she stared down at her shoes, her vision blurring for a moment. Molly cleared her throat and even though her hair blocked most of her face, she didn't blink the tears back. Years of pretending to be a normal woman had made her into the closest thing to it, she could be. However, when she was a hunter, she used her sweet innocent features to manipulate. So, she looked directly at him, tears still shining in her eyes. He opened his mouth to speak but words failed him.

She moved to the other side of the desk, picking up the picture of the six of them, smiling at it sadly.

'I thought, I thought that we were friends, I know you can be an absolute asshole, but... you, you. I don't even have the words for it.'

'You certainly have the actions though.' It took her a minute of gaping at him before she started giggling.

'I'm mad I can't stay mad at you.' She huffed, some strands of hair flying upwards and Sherlock started chuckling at her reaction.

'And you somehow manage to get me to act almost like an actual human being. A feat neither my mother nor John have managed.'

'Are those the reasons you won't move in to 221B?'

'Some of them. It's mostly because I can't. I can't do it Sherlock, there are things even you don't know about me and I rather it stay that way. Also there is the fact that I resent the implication that I can't defend myself.'

'Shooting range does not equal any practical skill set.'

'My Dad took me hunting as a kid. Sharp shooter. I also have training in a variety of martial arts and other means of self defence. Don't take me for a fool Sherlock, we both know better.'

'I never saw that.' Molly smiled softly at him as he stared at her, eyes lost and confused.

'Did you even bother looking?'

One wall of Molly's spare bedroom was now covered in Moriarty's history as well as any demon connections she could figure out. She climbed on the bed and pin the work "Crow?" to the centre.

Surely Crow being Crowley was too obvious.

Crowley being the King of Hell, he'd have to be savvier than that? A play on his own name?

No.

Though it would match the hubris of demons.

Man, she was rusty.

But there was also Moran. Mycroft and Sherlock hadn't managed to track him down, so he was a possibility.

The hours ticked on, Molly even passed out on the spare bed, and she woke at around six, finally understanding why Sherlock took over her room.

That bed was absolute hell for someone's back and neck. She kneeled on the bed yawning and staring wide eyed at the extent of her theories. Three walls were plastered with possibilities and probable and not so probable ties.

Then her laptop pinged loudly behind her, and suddenly two men's faces appeared in a video link pop up on her screen. The three stared at one another for a minute, Molly's exhaustion over the past couple of days causing her to forget that she wasn't wearing very much. A pair of shorts and a torn tank top.

The one with the longer hair slapped the other round the back of the head as the other one gawked at her as she turned and scooted towards the end of the bed.

'Ahhh... sorry, I've been working. Sam, Dean?' She looked at the non-gawking one first and then nodded at the other giving him a strange look.

'Yes, I'm Sam, the drooling one is Dean.' Sam, the one with the longer hair, and judging by the height difference in the way they were sitting he was quite a bit taller than his brother. Dean, well, even with the grumpy look on his face was alarming pretty.

Actually both men were alarmingly hot.

Not what she was expecting.

'We're taking the case.' Sam smiled, nodding and grabbing a tablet and flicking through it for something. Molly sat down in front of the desk, pulling on an old college hoodie and rubbing the back of her neck. Dean's eyes were slits as he tried to make out her demon map causing her to roll her eyes.

'Unless you have 100/100 vision dear, that's not going to happen. I'm glad you're helping, I am waaaay out of practice. The crow thing, there is something I'm missing and it is driving me nuts.'

'One question Hooper...' As attractive as he may be, the pinched look was not one he should really be sporting often, or at all.

'Am I really a Doctor?' She tried as his question trailed off, Sam whose head was bent over his table, puffed up his cheeks, eyebrows shooting to his hairline, moved an inch to the left.

'Are you really gonna pay for our flights and stuff?'

'That's the big question? Really?'

Okay, these were the big bad Winchester brothers? The Hunters that brought the worst of the worst demons and other supernatural creatures, to their knees?

Molly had a feeling this was going to be trickier then she'd first envisioned.