Chapter 17

Have to thank everyone for the gorgeous reviews both here and on my tumblr. That last chapter took me forever to write so I'm thrilled people liked it. This is the final part of this story but I will be doing a sequel fic after I write some crack!Sherlock book reviews. Thank you so much for reading it and reviewing and a special thanks to my beta, Thinkswithpen, who has just finished her first and brilliant fic so if you like Ron/Hermione, look her up.

Despite getting home late the previous night, John found he was first up the next morning. There was silence from Sherlock's bedroom. He went about his daily routine and went out to the shops for breakfast and the paper. By the time he came back, he could hear the shower going and quite a lot of squealing. He guessed Molly and Sherlock were saving water by showering together. Environmentally conscious was not an adjective he normally ascribed to his flatmate.

John was sitting in his usual chair with coffee, a scone and the paper by the time Sherlock appeared, shortly followed by Molly.

"Morning."

"Hi John."

"Well, hello, I would say it was a surprise to see you here but I heard you earlier."

Molly had the good grace to blush a little but Sherlock brazened it out.

"I just have time for a quick coffee before I head off to work," said Molly, grabbing a mug.

"Couldn't you feign illness for the day?" said Sherlock, unusually brightly for someone who usually only grunted before morning coffee.

"No, I could not! The other pathologists might mess up the lab."

"Hardly surprising, you are the most efficient, that's why I picked you."

"Oh, you mean it wasn't because you figured I'd be the most biddable?"

"No. Well, maybe a little," he said, smiling.

Molly shook her head forward to catch her hair up, and pulled it into a quick ponytail. Sherlock seemed completely lost in the show. It was a strangely intimate thing to observe, and John wished his chair would swallow him up, at least temporarily.

"Right," she said, picking up a bag and her coat, "I'm off now. Text me later, ok?"

"Don't I get a kiss?" Sherlock really had that little boy pout down. Must be genetic, thought John.

"Sure, walk me out to the door, I'm sure John doesn't want watch us snogging."

"I'd rather have John watch than everyone passing by on the street."

John and Molly both snorted out laughs.

"That did not come out right," amended Sherlock, glowering at their laughing faces.

"Bye, John," said Molly, the detective following her out the door.

*o*o*o*o*

After a few minutes, Sherlock returned. He retrieved his coffee, took the other half of John's scone and sat down on the couch.

"Hey, get your own scone, there's more in the kitchen," said John.

"This one is already buttered, and ready to be eaten…the kitchen is far away."

"That puppy dog look might work on your girlfriend, but I don't break so easily."

"I know, you usually need 4-5 more compliments than Molly to get you to do what I want!"

Sherlock's good mood was infectious.

"How was your date last night? Did she tell you about the stepson from her previous marriage that she has shared custody of?"

"Yes, she did. I won't even ask how you figured it out. You never even met her."

"But it was obvious from her text messages, which I read on your phone. Honestly, John, I'm just looking out for you. I could screen all your potential dates…"

"You mean, more than usual, no thanks, mate. Besides, I think you'll find less time to spy on my personal life now you have one of your own. Tell me, just how did you end up here with Molly, when you went to hers for dinner? Please tell me you didn't insist on dragging the poor woman across town because you wouldn't sleep in her bed."

Sherlock ringed his hands around his mug and didn't even try to hide the enormous grin on his face.

"No! Even better John. She sent me home and then surprised me by being here when I got home. I had no inkling of it! She pulled one over on me. It was brilliant."

This was, indeed, high praise from Sherlock. She must have been very good in bed too, remarked John out loud, which yielded a cushion in his face.

"So, tell me, where do you go from here?" he said disposing of the cushion.

"I only have 4, maybe 5, ideas thus far. None are ready for discussion. It does seem to be going well though."

"Excellent. I can't wait to write this up on the blog."

"You're not writing about Molly on the blog!"

"I don't see why I shouldn't. She's writing about it on hers!"

Sherlock looked horrified and reached for a laptop, while John smirked. He folded his arms across his chest and thought to himself:

"A new type of game is on…."