Note: Okay, been awhile. So sorry. Life, death and cra-cra moments have kept me busy. Hopefully, I won't be so long with the next part. *crosses fingers* Thank you for your understanding and patience. You guys are awesome.

Quick heads up…Some time ago, perhaps two years ago, I had this part half written. It started out with Molly point of view. Then later both Molly and Mycroft…and now it ends with Mycroft's point of view. It I did everything right it should flow naturally. Hopeful I did this right. If not forgive me.

Also, warning this is not beta'd. All mistakes are mine and mine alone.

~*~Life in an Idiot's Fishbowl~*~

~*~PART 4~*~

The good Watson had at the time deserted me for a wife, the only selfish action which I can recall in our association. I was alone.

-The Blanched Soldier by Arthur Conan Doyle

Had he discovered a gold mine, greater delight could not have shone upon his features.

-A Study in Scarlet by Arthur Conan Doyle

~*~SHERLOCK~*~

Molly glanced at her husband who had just seconds ago been studying their daughter with a soft, loving look upon his face. That soft, loving look, one that he would never freely give away in public…or rarely to anyone else in private…unless he really trusted them. Molly felt herself give a gentle smile. He trusted her and she treasured that.

They were in the back of their expensive luxury limo, shiny and black, being driven to Baker Street to see Sherlock…For their precious daughter had a 'playdate' with the great consulting detective. Molly knew Sherlock was looking forward to the 'playdate'…A little too much according to the British Government.

At the moment, Maggie seemed to be studying her father as well from her small car seat that was bookend by both parents.

Molly proudly knew the love Mycroft was feeling towards their little one. That love might frighten him, though he'd never admit it. Nope, not even when tortured would he admit that something would dare frighten him…and even though he might look all calm and elegantly collected the famous ice man who tried to look extremely cold and perhaps even a bit cruel…Wasn't.

Actually, earlier she had witnessed him deducing something that had him shaken to his very foundation…A serious break in the ice!

Molly bit her lip thinking about it…She thought it sweet and…well…to be honest funny.

"We should have really taken another vehicle, my dear." Mycroft informed her, now looking her way with a lifted chin and a heavy frown as if the choice of car was her fault.

His face was no longer warm.

It was as if this vehicle was a rusted piece of junk that had no place near his other luxury cars or limos…Seriously, how many vehicles did one man need especially when this was the newest model with a heavy load of electronics and the leather heated seats alone made Molly want to rub herself all over them so she could completely understand why two people who had been in the car last had…violated the incredibly soft and comfortable seats…She, of course, would have never known however…Mycroft Holmes, who proudly thought he was smarter than his brother would notice this…

Molly chuckled as she glanced quickly out the window to watch the passing world of chaos and yet lovely London.

"This matter is no way funny, Molly!" Her husband snapped.

Molly now giggled like a teenage girl. She knew what had happened in this car bothered him but good heavens!

She looked over at him when she felt certain the terrible giggles had come to a stop.

"I think it's kinda sweet actually." Molly said carefully, "It…It's awkward, a bit weird sure but who am I to judge? It's a natural act and they are in love…Plus, they obviously wanted to celebrate the birth of their grandchild. Simply forget the evidence you found and move on."

"SWEET!" Mycroft sneered. "And who are you to judge; really…I can't believe you just said all that nonsense! Also nonsense is exactly what this all is! My God! My parents had sex in my limo! A new limo by the way! With my driver driving it…there is something seriously wrong with them!"

"Well, your driver never said a word about it so hopefully that means they had the private screen up and in place otherwise…I'm starting to see your parents in a whole new different light…With how many times Sherlock has caught them at it…Maybe they are one of those couples that get off on the thrill of knowing they could be caught in the act…Would explain a lot, Mycroft, like that one time in the public park…You remember, you had to go to Canada to get them out of jail for—"

"Don't! Don't you dare remind me! I have no wish to relive that moment, thank you...However…my car…Molly, you do know what this means, yes? I am now going to have to set this limo on fire and then see how quickly it can sink into the Thames…" Mycroft swore heatedly.

Molly attempted to keep from laughing and to be quite honest it was indeed hard to do but she knew full well that it would in no way help her husband's sour mood.

"Well…You do have more than one limo as well as car…which, by the way, I always found to be a bit silly but setting the car on fire and sinking it into the Thames…Well, that would be over the top crazy, Mycroft, I can see your brother going all overboard but you…"

"Overboard!? Silly!? Crazy!? Honestly, my dear!"

"Yes, overboard and silly! Also can a bulletproof limo even be set on fire? Anyway, Mycroft, really you are being a drama queen and there is no logical reason for it." Molly continued calmly. Then repeated her point. "Drama. Queen."

Mycroft actually huffed, crossing his arms and turned his head to look out the window. After a moment of silence or as Molly secretly termed it… 'Pouting'…He finally revealed. "I'm no bloody drama queen, Molly…I leave that to my dear brother…however, I will still set fire to this vehicle. Personally. Oh, and bulletproof does not mean fireproof."

Molly bit her lower lip before she said pointedly, "I believe in some ways your parents have already set their own fire in this very limo. Also, those words coming from your mouth sound very…drama queeny."

Now there was a long silence, she knew her husband know longer wished to talk about his dear parents sex life and so was simply trying to end it by saying no more about it. Mycroft really should have known better. Silly man…He was, however, smart which was why he didn't even dare remind his wife that 'queeny' wasn't a true word.

So she waited a few tender seconds, to make sure he was indeed smart before asking dryly, "So where exactly did you find your mummy's kickers, hmm?" Molly decided to point as she continued her line of questioning. "Over in this corner or over there in that spot…you know the one right by your left shoe?"

"You. Are. Evil." Her husband announced as if he just realized something he hadn't known before and here he thought he knew everything. "Pure evil."

Molly gave him her most lovely and completely innocent smile…as if he had just been commenting upon her beauty.

"And yet…You still love me." She almost sang the last sentence. Also, she spoke the truth.

"I do, yes. Very much so." Mycroft confirmed as if discussing the weather.

"Wow, gee, Mycroft when you just randomly start pouring out your heart to me it seriously makes me want to jump you plus with that yummy tux you are wearing…Oh, yeah, I could indeed easily rip it right off you and—"

"Never in the same area where my father has done unspeakable things to my mother!" Mycroft actually sounded shocked and horrified. Plus, the disbelief in his eyes was actually quite comical.

Molly couldn't help but snicker as she reminded him, "Plus, our daughter is right here with us."

Mycroft slowly blinked and looked down at their daughter, "Oh, right."

"Oh, right." Molly breathed. Laughter in her eyes as she looked over at him.

Aw, look! A powerful man who claims to see and know all can actually blush!

He seemed be refusing to look at her as he whispered, "Oh, hush."

Molly barked out a laugh. Seriously! She sometimes couldn't believe how her life was now. Here she was dressed in a gorgeous fancy gown. A gold elegant lace with a bright shimmering blue. Riding in an even more expensive limo, teasing her sweet handsome husband that most men and women did everything in their power not to mess with. Strange. She had a job that she loved as well as a husband…a daughter…as well as a brother-in-law… one who actually asked if she could bring him a bag of eyeballs as well as some interesting toys to play with while watching Maggie.

Which she replied that perhaps she'd give him a bag of eyeballs in a couple of days but for tonight he needed to turn all of his attention and focus upon his favorite and only niece. Who would be returned to them without anything her parents would deem questionable.

Who knew that a text message could actually pout back?

But she had proof on her phone.

"So…" Mycroft decided to begin as if completely uncertain for once in his life.

Which for a man like him…

Molly instantly straighten and eyed him carefully before repeating, "So?" Hers sounded more like a question then his had had.

He cleared his throat before saying, "Are we certain about my brother watching—"

"Are we certain about us having to go to this silly party?" She quickly cut him off. This party would be full of snobs and complete strangers who refused to talk about interesting things. Corpses or Doctor Who for example.

Her lovely husband heaved a sigh. "I'm not wild about this blasted party either, my dear, however this is the only time and place I can meet with certain people. In plain sight as it were. It's quite necessary to stop a major threat…Also, you do have a habit of gathering all attention off myself. Which is what I'm counting on tonight."

She snorted and shook her head.

Mycroft continued, "You will be a huge help. Together we will stop an unnecessary war and keep millions alive."

She shot him a glare. "That's a hell of a lot to place upon my shoulders, Mycroft. You should be ashamed of yourself! What the bloody hell are you thinking?!"

"I'm thinking that I'm in no way placing anything upon your shoulders!"

"No?!"

"No. I'm simply dealing with something that—"

"That I need to make damn certain keeps people's eyes on me and not you." Her words sharper than any sword and her dark eyes full of brutal fire that it melted a hardened ice man's heart.

"Molly—"

"How am I to do that, Mycroft? Act the fool? Pretend or not pretend to drink too much? Accidently set fire to the drapes as I've done before?"

"No, to all that and that fire was purely accidental anyone could have bumped into all those candles. Plus, the servants should have known better than to place them there. Also, the Duke still laughs about it so…"

"Mycroft!"

He shifted in his seat. "The fact is you won't have to do anything but be there in the room. There will be people there that won't be able to help themselves but to notice you. Those that know me or think they do. They wonder, Molly and curiosity is a strong part of human nature. That is all I'm counting on." His voice velvet soft, almost caressing her skin. Oddly comforting her in its soothing way. It was amazing how easily he could do that. Calm her. Sooth her with just his voice.

"What do these people wonder that would make them so curious?" She asked softly, yet tone was still tight. Her eyes focused on their daughter. So she never saw him shrug before turning his head to look out the window. To watch the great city they lived in speed past.

"Mycroft?"

It took a long moment before he responded with, "Shark. Monster. Completely cold. Totally uncaring."

She suddenly understood and took a deep breath before attempting to lighten the moon. "People are still saying that about me, huh?"

After what seemed like an eternity he turned his face to eye his beautiful wife. "About me, Molly, all about me."

She sighed softly and didn't know her eyes were sad for him as she met his eyes. "I see you. I know you, the real you. They don't. I love you and for some crazy reason they don't."

"My greatest failure would be to lose you."

"Are you having an affair?"

The unexpected question made him blink in complete surprise. Plus, there was a brief look of disgust that flickered in his eyes that did Molly's heart good before he honestly replied, "Never."

"Are you planning on slapping me later? Perhaps test your out your punches on me? Hmm?"

"Molly—"

"Purposely physically and mentally hurt our daughter?"

"Why can't we ever have a calm and rational discussion? You bloody well know the answers to those stupid questions!" Only his wife could truly lead him to lose his cool. Mycroft shot the love of his life a glare.

"We are having a calm and rational discussion, Mycroft! For a smart man you can be an idiot. Lucky for me you are my idiot. My point, beloved husband, is the only way to lose me outside of death is those very things I mentioned. Things I know in my heart you'd never do unless drugged or something. Even then…I do know people. People who could make things more than interesting if you willingly did do some of those 'You'd Never Do' list of mine. I know for a fact John would punch you. Hard. Most likely in the face. Mummy Holmes would yell at you in public places. Embarrassing you greatly. She'd also have the family barrister firmly on my side. Also, there's Sherlock! He would make you think you were in hell until you decided that enough was enough and simply go to hell itself. Perhaps even jumping into that famous lake of fire…all in the hopes that he would leave you be. Then there is me. It would pain me, sure, but always remember, I know when and where you sleep. I also know that a good sized potato peeler isn't just for potatoes."

Of course as Molly was speaking, the glare Mycroft had given her completely died. She had said this all so calmly and so matter of fact. As if reporting findings of a recent autopsy. Her face held something so lovely, sweet and almost innocent. He knew she had meant every single word. Sometimes he couldn't image how he'd ever lived life without her…and then there were times where she scared him. He didn't scare easily.

Mycroft took a deep breath before saying, "Good to know."

Molly smiled at him. Her eyes so beautiful. He loved her and he always would.

He cleared his throat deciding it was time to talk about something else.

"So, seeing how you mentioned John, I must warn you that Sherlock doesn't know."

"Know?" Molly quickly asked as he had known she would. She would also prompt him to continue. "Know what exactly?"

He loved being right. He fought off a smirk. He was a smart man after all and her words about a potato peeler haunted him. Perhaps they always would. So, no smirk.

"About John and Mary being the other couple that we have been doing 'couple's night' with."

"So?" She sounded a bit confused. He simply looked at her. Allowing her to sense his sadness and concern for his brother. She was the one person he trusted and knew she would understand. She did. He watched her blink slowly as if realization slammed into her. "Oh. Oh! Goodness do you mean John hasn't told Sherlock? I know they both can get wrapped up in their adventures but—"

"Molly, John hasn't told Sherlock because he hasn't talked to my brother since coming back. Not. A. Single. Word. I've talked to him more than Sherlock has mostly because you force me too. I don't dare tell Sherlock that because I know…it would pain him. If I knew it would only annoy him, I'd tell him but…I know Sherlock has been trying to give John space. He knew John wanted to have a lovely honeymoon with Mary. Enjoy their time together before they were busy with a little one. So, Sherlock is waiting. Attempting in his eyes to be nice and a good friend. Waiting for John to make the first move. To call him up. Go and visit. He knows they are back and John is even working yet he hasn't heard from him. Sherlock is stubborn and doesn't want to make the first move mostly because so many people told him how life was going to change. Hell, even I warned him things would be different."

"But never so different that John wouldn't call him or even check up on him."

"Right." Mycroft agreed.

Molly slowly shook her head in disbelief. "That can't be good. John isn't a stupid man. He's a good man who knows how to…well, it would be wrong to say 'handle' Sherlock. Hmm, helps him be more human, perhaps? Right now John is clearly acting the fool and nothing good can come of that. Sure taking a honeymoon is fine. Taking a break from their friendship and adventures? Wrong on so many levels. Sherlock can easily get into more trouble without him—"

"Together they always create serious trouble leaving me to clean up their mess!"

"Fix it, Mycroft."

"Me? How?" He couldn't help ask in disbelief. He could do many things but pulling that sort of miracle out of his arse was highly questionable. Plus, why should he stick his nose into John and his brother's business…

Molly shrugged. "Simply fix it. You are always fixing things for this country and other countries. Simply think of them as two different government and get them to be strong allies. With that thought you can now, you can step up and do right by your baby brother. You love challenges so do what you do best and fix whatever problems pop up."

"There is nothing for me to fix!" Mycroft announced abruptly.

Molly gave her handsome husband an intense look. So intense that he even crossed his arms. Still that look remained until he sighed before stating, "Fine! I'll fix it however knowing my brother he'll ruin whatever truly brilliant plan that I come up with."

"Right, I'm certain what I'm asking you to do will require strategic planning or you can simply tell John you are going to hold his banking and cards hostage until he makes a playdate with your dear brother."

Mycroft suddenly tilted his head thoughtfully. "That could actually work. I'm going to call that 'Plan A'."

Molly chuckled. "Aw. See there's my sexy fix it all man. Oh! Speaking of Mr. Fix-it-all is the plumber coming to the house tomorrow?"

"Of course. Don't fret."

"Mycroft, I'm not fretting." His lovely wife pointed out.

He couldn't help it before he admitted, "I am."

His tone taking on a hard and authoritative edge.

"About the plumbing? It's only a leaky faucet, easily fixable." She sounded surprised and a bit shocked.

"No. Not about that, Molly. Sherlock…My dear brother informed me about a horrible visitor he had today. A wish-to-be client of his that Sherlock was completely disgusted by."

"Oh? You are fretting about that? Mycroft, you know your brother is easily disgusted."

"Jim Browner." He said the name carefully. Sharp eyes studying her.

Everything about her seemed to freeze. Everything. Her breath. Her heart. Eyes. Mind. Even her very soul.

It seemed to take a long moment before those lovely brown eyes of hers flashed. There was a surprisingly unfamiliar bite of venomous hatred within those jewel like depths.

"Now I'm disgusted." Molly admitted before questioning. "What did that horrible cowardly bully want? Has he beaten another woman? Another wife perhaps?"

"Molly—"

"I lost Stephanie because of him!" Her voice now filled with deep almost a broken sorrow. "She was my friend. My best friend and then he…he…God, don't tell me Sherlock is going to help that arsehole!"

"No! No, did you not hear me say he was disgusted by that man and was in no way intrigued? That Browner was a wish-to-be client but never to be a client?" He informed her calmly.

"Why did he go to Sherlock?" Molly asked coldly. Was that a hint of fear in her eyes? Something clutched at his heard. Worry? Concern? His wife was his treasure however he couldn't put her in an armored truck or a strong safe…Yet, no matter what he would protect her. With all his power. All his brilliance. All his money as well as his life.

"He wanted my brother to find his dead wife, your former friend." He answered carelessly. She flinched and he tightened his jaw.

Forcing out the words, "Should I worry?"

Her face and eyes softened. Her tone now kind and gentle. "You are a father now, Mycroft. You will always worry even if and when I inform you not to."

"I'm speaking about this man, Molly! Not about our daughter! Tell me the truth has he threatened or bothered you as of late…"

"No, he has not. He is a vile, cruel and brutal man who physical beat my dearest friend and because of him I lost her. She attempted to drive herself to the hospital the night she…she died. Because he thought she should feel his fists and boots upon her flesh. That wreck…was because of him! Though police called it an accident but I know the truth. He should be in jail for murder. He would not dare come at me because years ago I told him that I would go to the police with proof with that very fact. I don't know if they would arrest him however neither does he. But since that talk to many years ago he hasn't come near me or attempted to contact me. So, in all honesty, I'm not surprised that he now hates me. Let him. I hate him right back. He's what your dear brother would call a coward and a slinky."

This made Mycroft blink in surprise. "A slinky?"

Molly smiled, "His only usefulness is being tossed down the stairs. Your brother once said this about a corpse that happened to be resting upon my slab. I thought that was quite clever and incredibly cheeky."

Mycroft couldn't help but chuckle before sharing, "My brother can be that! I once informed him that he needed to go to hell, his response? 'Sorry, no, Satan still has that pesky restraining order out against me.' I must admit I plan to steal that quote from him one day."

Molly's laughter lifted his spirits. He know knew with certainty that everything was going to be okay. He was certain that he need not worry. About that arse Browner—No, not Browner but Slinky. There was no cause for alarm.

It was that overwhelming feeling…that wonderful peace and confidence that soothed his very old soul and settled inside his normally cold, hardened heart.

Didn't last too long, however, as they pulled up to 221 B Baker Street.

Mycroft stepped out of the vehicle to instantly become frozen. As still as a statue. Lips thinned as he glared at a high window. A window that just so happened to be open. Was that bright red smoke coming out of it? Suddenly, a familiar face and a head of dark wild hair showed itself as the man leaned out to shout, "Fear not brother-mine! All is well! Just a little experiment that had clearly unexpected results! Smell and smoke will fade in five minutes…or ten minutes…no more than fifteen! Completely safe to come up!"

With that the famous consulting detective disappeared back inside.

Molly quickly loaded her husband up with a big brightly colored nappy bag and another bag meant to keep their daughter as well as Sherlock entertained. He was too busy glaring at the smoke and window to watch Molly carefully and lovely take their daughter into her arms.

"Don't worry." Molly's eyes and tone were full of laughter. He didn't share it however. Her words continued with, "This will be fun!"

Mycroft's glare turned into a heavy frown.

Oh, he was going to worry. He may be the Government but with his brother…As well as his wife and daughter…Bloody Sodding Hell! Worrying was going to be a full time job from now on. There would never be such a thing as retirement for him. No lovely holiday. No, sir! Not for him!

He clinched the bags the strong hands, his jaw dangerously tight, knowing he had no choice but follow Molly inside.

Which is exactly what he did.

He hesitated once more, frozen in his tracks, when he could have sworn his daughter smiled and winked at him.

Must be some strong chemical that drifted over to him from Sherlock's completely bollocks experiment…

As if his dear brother knew what he was thinking he heard Sherlock yell though he sounded as if he was choking.

"Seriously…All…Is…Well…Mycroft!"

If the devil really excited and wasn't some stupid myth he could completely believe that he had put a restraining order out on his brother. Lucky bastard.

"Mycroft, are you not coming?" Molly asked, her voice traveling down to him.

Oh, if only…

Somehow he ignored all his doubts and followed them both inside.

~*~END OF PART 4~*~

Well, hope you enjoyed...if so please feel free to send feedback.

Have a lovely day!