When Mrs. Hudson had greeted them at the door, she was relieved to see them. Confiding in them that she had considered calling them the night before, rather than this morning. There had been a huge ruckus in the apartment and she hadn't even ventured up there to investigate for fear of what she'd find. John Watson sighed and passed a glance at the very irritated Mycroft. Honestly, since Mrs. Hudson didn't know what was going on, she wasn't sure who to call so she just called them both.

Sighing once again, John pushed open the door to the sitting room and surveyed the damage. Many of the books were off the shelf and strewn about the room, a broken mirror, the animal bust and its headphones were now on the ground, the orange lamp was busted, the other on its end, his chair's legs were broken and it was half way in the fire place, burnt on the sides, and joined by four table legs but the biggest shock came when the two men turned to face the kitchen.

Laying on top of the broken kitchen table were a naked Sherlock Holmes and Molly Hooper, clinging to each other in the middle of wreckage.

"Oh, good lord." Mycroft squeezed the bridge of his nose. "Sherlock!"

The younger brother sat up with a start, completely unaware of his surroundings for a few moments, his ghostly eyes darting between the two men, he reached over and found a random dressing gown he must have worn the night before and gently placed it over Molly. "This just… sort of… happened." He explained, fumbling to grasp his trousers with his one free hand.

"What exactly 'just happened' ?" His doctor friend was obviously annoyed and he was prepared to give some sort of response when a groggy Molly spoke up first.

"Oh, about 25 years of sexual repression… all at once." Sherlock felt himself blush a very deep shade, the heat raising from his chest to his ears.

"Right, that." He casually offered as she sat up, struggling with the robe. No one moved or said a word as Molly grabbed the counter to hoist herself and start a pot of coffee.

"Help yourself when it's ready, but save me a cup." Molly was obviously not a morning person, or at least she wasn't after a blow out fight, several rounds of sex and a night sleeping on a broken table. "Shower, now." She directed her partner in crime to the bathroom and all he could do was offer a high pitched "ok", as he allow her to push him. Finally alone in the flat, John turned to Mycroft.

"Can we pretend we never saw any of this?"

"Yes, I think that'd be best…"

"Right. Well,… I'll be going than."

"I'm right behind you."