Hello all, sorry I've been late on this part of the story. It's very difficult to find the right timing for all that has to come down now (I'm struggling a bit on how to move along the plot without stalling too much on the emotional part). Anyway, I felt that Sherlock had been quite bad for the last two chapters so I thought that we needed to have something that shows that despite his outburst, he did grow a little in regards to Molly. Also it was fun to see the side of John's were he is there for his friend and not so much berating him than trying to help him with social interactions.

Also, for those who might have wondered about Sherlock's talk about blue-seamed stocking, it's actually a reference of another of my stories Bolthole Blues which is set during HLV (so kind of angsty even if it settled the grounds for this story).

I'll stop rambling now. Once again, I don't own anything (even though I'd very much so).

SHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHS

"Well, it took some time but at least we've found it! Ah! Don't you smell it in the air, John? The bright tantalizing scent of a new lead?" asked Sherlock while he hurried down the corridors of Barts and texting on his phone at the same time.

"Well, Sherlock. I know that right now the…" started John as he struggled to maintain the pace of his friend's strides while trying to get his coat on. Of course, Sherlock had not bothered to get out of his own coat, much probably because he had wanted to keep its projection of dark looming figure as protection against any sign that he might be human after all.

"Game is on!" cut in gleefully Sherlock.

"Yes that. However, I think maybe you should go and see to Molly first. And then, we can go to… wherever you want us to go." Finished John, gesturing at Sherlock's phone.

Sherlock stopped dead in his track and John had to use instinct-honed reflexes not to crash into him. Thank God for the army, he muttered silently into his head. Sherlock turned to him and the doctor was surprised to find some element of uncertainty in the eyes of the detective:

"Molly. Why should I go and see Molly?" he asked in a way that sounded absent-minded but was belied by the crease between his brows.

"Well, you did insult her earlier? This is more than a bit not good Sherlock." Slowly explained John, trying to see if a flicker of recognition would ignite in his friend's eyes. At the widening of those, John was suddenly struck by a revelation "Sherlock, did you delete that?" His voice was utterly disbelieving. How Sherlock had been able to delete an argument that had happened just a few moments ago was beyond his understanding.

Sherlock on his part had the grace to look a little ashamed of his behaviour and finally admitted:

"Yes, I might have deleted it." He grimaced slightly as if he was struggling with his next words. "Those kind of… things… not really my forte." He softly said.

By things, John new Sherlock meant feelings. He was at the same time utterly flabbergasted to see the depth of emotions that the man harboured for Molly Hooper, if the argument had such an effect on the man and at the same time, strangely happy to see that his best friend might have opened his heart a little. Even if his forays into normal feelings were not the most artful at times. But as John was busy digesting the new turn into his best friend, Sherlock suddenly frowned.

"Wait, you said I insulted her earlier. I didn't mention the discussion with the lover, did I?" he asked.

"Hmm, no. You just insulted her skills at pathology and urged her to consider a change of field." Explained matter-of-factly John. It then registered to him that Sherlock had not deleted his interactions with the lover. Interesting.

"Oh." Just said Sherlock. "Well, she must know I was clearly out of my mind. She's the best pathologist I know. To suggest anything else is just completely beyond reason." Stiffly said Sherlock, clearly ill-at-ease at the demonstration of how he had lost it. He sneaked a look at his blogger to confirm that indeed, Mollly Hooper knew better than to believe his hateful words and met with a stony look of "not good". He sighed and finally muttered "Fine, I'll go and apologize."

As Sherlock started towards the small room that Molly had pre-empted as her office, his phone beeped with another incoming text. He looked at it and turned back to the exit. His face that was embarrassed and apologetic was now set in a cold and hard mask. John, didn't need to ask to know that there was something wrong. Anyway, it seemed that Sherlock unusually needed to justify his next turn of action as he clarified:

"We'll have to do that later. I just received urgent news. It seems that the empty slaughterhouse is not as deserted as it should be." He said as he escalated his pace.

John found himself hurrying once more behind his friend, his mind focused on the case.

SHSHSHSHSHSHSHS

OK, now I'll try to get back to moving my plot along (I know what needs to happen, I just can't find the right words to put it in action)