A/N: In all fairness this one's short because I HATE zombies. Like I really hate them, just googling this event for me details has made me feel a little ill. So this is short and quirky.

9) Zombie Running

"What on earth have you signed me up to." Molly hissed as she looked at the cluster of abandoned warehouses. She'd been given a gun with paint pellets in it and a belt with three pale blue ribbons velcroed onto it. "Oh god I know what this is." She hissed as Sherlock grinned at her.

If there was one thing he loved more than pirates when he'd been a child, it had been zombies. He'd known pirates were a scientific definite, zombies hadn't been and he had no inclination to do a Frankenstein – his parents introducing him to that book quite early on. But his obsession with zombies hadn't quite abated.

Mycroft had bullied her mercilessly because young Sherlock had been ready for a zombie apocalypse and well the same training came in handy when chasing criminals across London.

Which is why he had signed his dearly beloved up for this zombie survival course.

"I hate you." She glared at him and Sherlock just beamed back at her. "You owe me." She watched as their "leader" clicked his gun and checked his ammunition. Sherlock's eagerness to follow suit made her feel ill. Unlike her darling detective, Molly hated zombies. Hated them. Which is something Sherlock had never understood. Fortunately she had been rational enough to realise that the corpses she worked on every day did not reanimate and if they did she had enough tools at her disposal to kill them but she did not want to be chased by actors parading as her childhood nightmare. However they had no choice. The bus stopped and they hustled into the first warehouse.

The next hour passed in a blur of screaming, paint pellets and Sherlock's gleeful laughter. Finally when they collapsed back into her car Molly had the energy to punch him in arm.

"You're a dick." She spat, pulling her hair away from her eyes. "You owe me until next Halloween. If I don't get the biggest Christmas present you can spent it elsewhere." She put her hands on the wheel of her car in the hopes of calming herself down. "You know I do not like zombies Sherlock." She started the engine and pulled out without another word, Sherlock only just managing to buckle himself in.

Sherlock knew he'd taken the wrong person when every time he tried to speak, at first to celebrate and then to apologise Molly turned the music up.

The car ride home was very quiet.

Mary and John were waiting at Sherlock's parents place when they pulled up the driveway and were slightly bemused when Molly pulled herself from the car without a word to Sherlock, walking through the front door and ignoring them.

"I didn't take John in case it was too similar to the war." Sherlock called from the passenger door of the car.

"You should have taken Mary Sherlock." Molly yelled back before slamming the front door as he slumped against the car.

"Sherlock? What did you do?" John strode towards his best friend.

"When she said she didn't like zombies I didn't think…"

"That she meant it?" John scoffed. "When has Molly ever hidden her emotions? She isn't you Sherlock! Your big romantic day with her was the zombie event you wanted to go to?" John shook his head and even Mary looked at him like a hopeless case.

"Get on your knees and beg forgiveness Sherlock. She was terrified of them as a child. It's only working at the morgue that curbed it. She won't work for a week at least now." Mary shook her head as Sherlock groaned.

"Go! Be thankful your parents are out and we're going out for dinner." John explained, his patience long worn thin by his moronic best friend.

"She'll forgive him." Mary watched as Sherlock ran in after his fiancée before she slid into the driver seat of her own car.