Sherlock and John left the flat, leaving Mycroft behind them. It didn't seem to bother Sherlock one bit. Sherlock hailed a cab that seemed to just come up as he needed.

"So, we're going out. And Mycroft stays?" asked the blogger as they entered the cab.

"Please John, who cares if Mycroft stays in the flat. It's not like he couldn't come in there at any point when we're not there. He's the British Government after all." Dismissively replied the detective.

"OK, just saying, that's the first time that you let him stay behind you. That's all. Your relationship is getting better, then." Of course, if one saw the two brothers together, no one would doubt for a moment that Mycroft was Sherlock's nemesis as he had once put it. But now, John knew more about their –very – dysfunctional relationship to discern some signs of appeasement. Whether that was a good or bad sign however, remained to be seen.

"John, if you are going to sprout such nonsense, maybe it'd be better that you get back to your wife." Still Holmes didn't try and deny it.

"Anyway, where are we going?" asked John. After all, he wasn't there to play therapist to Sherlock's family dynamics but to solve a case. One that involved a man that had tried twice to kill him nonetheless. Of course, when he'd be back home with Mary, they'll have a fun evening to discuss the humanisation of Sherlock.

"We're going to get the files. Please do keep up."

"What files?"

"The ones on the Moriarty's web. Normally Mycroft should have given me access to them but you know how he likes to make my life more difficult…"rumbled Sherlock. Maybe his ideas about Sherlock / Mycroft relationship getting better was a little off the mark, then, thought John.

"Moriarty's web. So I guess you finally found from where the video was uploaded. But that doesn't answer my question. Where are we going Sherlock?"

"Molly's." The detective was still. It reminded John of when Sherlock confessed that the pathologist knew about him faking his death. As if it was a dirty secret.

"Molly's." the doctor repeated. This was not something he expected, but again, he was mostly blindsided about anything concerning the pathologist.

"Yes".

"Care to elaborate a bit, mate?" John insisted. If not, Mary was going to kill him. This was much more interesting than Sherlock and Mycroft sibling rivalry.

"We're here. Great, she should already be at Bart's." The cab conveniently stopped and Sherlock exited as John found himself paying the fare, again. And not having his question answered, again.

Sherlock was already up the steps in front of the building and John had to hurry up behind him. The detective quickly composed the code to enter and John couldn't help but ask:

"So, you know the entry code of Molly's building?"

"Would have been a little inconvenient not knowing how to get to my bolthole, don't you think?"

"Your bolthole? Molly's?" said John disbelieving. Being with Sherlock was like falling the rabbit's hole. But never before, had he thought that the "curiouser and curiouser" part would apply to Sherlock's relationship with his friends.

"Well, one of them. The bedroom… We agreed I needed the space. But you should know after all." The detective replied as they were both taking up the stairs to the fourth floor, clearly trying to brush aside the enormity of what he was confessing.

"What? I should know? When… Wait, the bedroom? What!" sputtered John, still following and trying to wrap his head around how Sherlock Holmes, self-defined high functioning sociopath could have found himself using the bedroom of a pathologist that a few months ago was engaged to another man as a bolthole.

"Well, the spare bedroom actually. But you… well Mary, but then… or maybe not." Declared the detective as his friend glared at him. Rather than discussing the time when his best friend's wife garnered such an information, he turned and focused on the door of Dr. Hooper. "Now… let's see how much time Molly's lock is going to resist me this time."

Sherlock picked up the lock and pushed open the door. Only for it to be blocked by a security chain. Already there was movement behind the door as hurried steps made their way in the corridor. John palmed his face, just realising that Sherlock seemed to have mixed up the working hours of the petite pathologist. As it was, the face of Molly appeared in the opening of the door:

"Sherlock? What are you doing here?"

"Hello Molly… What are you doing here? Your shift at Bart's has started for almost an hour."

"I took a day off. What are you doing here?" As John was starting to mutter indistinctly behind the detective, Molly seemed to finally notice the army doctor behind his tall friend "Oh… John, hello."

"Open the door Molly, we don't have all day" pushed Sherlock.

Molly hesitated a few seconds, her eyes going from the blond man that seemed extremely ill-at-ease to the manic detective. Finally, it was the noise of one of her neighbours opening her own door that spurned her into action. She finally disengaged the security chain and opened the door fully for the two men to enter. Sherlock pushed past her and quickly noticed that a small gun was cleverly cancelled behind a ruffle of her dressing gown. John entered saying hello to Molly as she closed the door again.

"Molly, you can put the gun down now, don't you think" said Sherlock "Anyway, it would be quite ineffective against any of Moriarty's henchmen, most especially as you showed your face in the opening of the door."

As Sherlock turned and started to go to a room, John turned to check the existence of said gun and had to admit that wasn't a figment of the detective's imagination. All the while, eyes still fixed on the man with the Belstaff, Molly replied:

"If it were Moriarty's henchmen, they would most probably have broken down the door so I wouldn't have to show my face in the opening. I guess I could have just started shouting them from here."

Sherlock frowned and turned:

"You would?"

Evidently, there were undercurrents in this conversation that he didn't grasp, Watson realised. Molly didn't reply and just jutted her chin up. John looked at Sherlock and Molly alternatively. The pathologist with her floral dressing gown covering some shorts and an oversize hello kitty shirt, a messy bun on the top of her head, the gun still clasped in her hand, silently challenged the detective with a glare. The dark haired man pinned her with his eyes but didn't seem to try and deduce her. That was interesting. Sherlock always tried to deduce people but John was guessing that the man didn't want to look too deep in the motivation of the specialist registrar. Maybe there were some things that made the man uncomfortable after all. John felt it was his duty to remind Sherlock that one couldn't just barge in someone's place without any explanation:

"So Sherlock, the files? You might as well tell Molly why we're here?"

Sherlock whipped around and started:

"Yes, the files. Molly, I just need to get an usb drive that I left in your bedroom. It'll only take a minute at most and we'll be out of here."

"Wait, Sherlock. The bedroom… No, you can't… Don't…" sputtered Molly suddenly trying getting ahead of him in the small passage way that led to what John assumed was the bedroom.

"Oh… Molly, I don't care if it's not neat… No need to impress me really… it's not like I were your…" was snickering Sherlock.

John was about to intervene when the door of the bedroom opened.

"…boyfriend." Ended Sherlock somewhat less triumphantly as a man clad in half opened jeans stood in the doorway.

Molly looked positively teething with rage, John was feeling as if the world had pivoted on its axis but it was Sherlock that seemed the most dumbfounded of all. The man that John could only assume was Molly's lover didn't seem so uncomfortable though.

"I thought that at some point it would be just best if I came out." He declared somewhat derisively. "So, hi… I'm Nick."

John shot a look at Molly who was now playing with her shirt and trying to hide a small smile while strangely keeping the gun in her hand, even if it wasn't pointed in anyone's direction. He had to admit that had he been in her place, not only would the gun been pointed at the detective but probably been completely discharged after shooting too. Sherlock clearly taken aback by the sight in front of him, namely a half-naked man coming out from a room after certain carnal activities, didn't make any move. Somehow, even if he couldn't surmise the exact reason for it, Watson felt for him:

"Hmm… Hi, Dr. Watson and this is Sherlock. Sherlock, files?" he inquired.

This seems to take Sherlock back to reality. The detective straightened and said.

"Yes, files. I'll go get them." If everything was back to normal in Sherlock's attitude, his deep voice seemed still somewhat strangled.

He pushed past the blond man that looked clearly amused by the situation and entered the room. Nick smiled and said:

"Anyway, Molly, you think we could get a cup of tea or anything in the main room? It's just... you see… let's make it a little less awkward…"