Yes, I wrote a series of Journey song fi... Nope, Journey inspired stories... Only me, right?!

Many thinks to OpalSkyLoveDivine for betaing this for me. A fellow Journey lover and Sherlollian. I am also gifting this story to her because her amazing review of SiL inspired this series.

I own nothing... let me make this perfectly clear... I own no lyrics or characters.

Enjoy, oh and, don't stop believin'! Good God I'm corny!

This one is -T, for a bit of naughty talk (just a tiny bit.)

Don't Stop Believin'

As Sherlock and John made their way down the hall toward the morgue, a sound started to fill their ears. Now John Watson, having fully experienced popular culture and well... a normal life, knew exactly what he was hearing. Sherlock Holmes on the other hand, looked at his friend in complete and utter shock.

"What the hell is that?" he yelled, and went from his normal quick walking pace to a full on run in a split second.

"Sherlock wait!" John called out.

But it was too late. Sherlock had the door of the morgue open before John could stop him. When the doctor caught up with his friend, he found the detective standing, staring at a petite woman in a white lab coat, her back to the pair, hips swaying, hands in the air and she was singing...

'Don't stop... believin'! Hold on to that fe-a-lin'! Streeet lights... peee-opaaale! Dooon't stop believin'! Hold oooooon! Streeet lights... peeeeopaaa...'

On the final 'people' she turned and jumped, when she realised that she wasn't alone. She pulled her ear buds out of her ears and said, "Oh, hi guys. Here to see Mr. Smith I presume?"

Sherlock shook himself out of his stopper. "Molly, are you okay?"

She looked back and forth between the two men. "Of course I'm okay, why wouldn't I be?"

"What on earth were you just doing?" he asked in astonishment.

John saw where this was going, and he didn't like it. He had witnessed Sherlock tear the poor woman apart on more than one occasion and had no desire to see it once again (even if it was warranted this time; that was some pretty awful singing). "Sherlock, she was obviously singing. Don't be rude, or try not to be, in your case," he very quickly interjected.

"Is that what that was?" Sherlock questioned.

Molly seemed unaffected. "Yes, I was singing. I was singing the greatest rock song of all time, by the greatest rock band of all time," she stated proudly.

John smiled, crossing his arms over his chest, curious about how this was going to end.

Sherlock shook his head. "Molly, the sounds coming out of this morgue scared me half to death. I thought you were being murdered."

Molly gave the detective a bemused glance, totally missing the concern in Sherlock's voice. This, however didn't go unnoticed by his blogger.

"Okay, so I'm no Steve Perry," Molly said playfully.

Sherlock leaned in. "What's a Steve Perry?"

Molly looked at John and rolled her eyes, then looked back to Sherlock. "Steve Perry, was the lead vocalist of the American rock band Journey from 1977 to 1996. Although he took two breaks to record his solo projects, Street Talk in 1984 and All For The Love Of Strange Medicine in 1994. What you heard me singing was Journey's hit song Don't Stop Believin'."

Sherlock looked both dazed and a bit bored. "I only understood the numbers in those sentences. Years, I believe they were."

John couldn't hold in his laugh. "Molly, I didn't know you were such a fan. You know they're still touring, right?"

Molly Hooper shot John a look of pure, unadulterated contempt. "DO NOT besmirch the name of Journey in my presence John Watson. THAT band may be on tour, but Journey is not Journey without Steve Perry!"

John blinked, almost frightened of his friend. He'd never seen her so angry – well, that wasn't entirely true. But he hadn't seen her this mad since Sherlock's failed drug test.

Sherlock, though he hated to admit it (even to himself), loved seeing Molly all worked up (especially when it wasn't directed at him). She had a lovely pink glow about her and her nostrils flared every so slightly. He easily hid his excitement, as he did every time. Frankly he was just happy that he got to witness this and hadn't had to do anything to cause it.

John finally dared to speak up. "Molly, um so sorry. I didn't know you felt so strongly about the 'Steve Perry situation'. I didn't even know you liked American pop music." He ducked his head. "Again, sorry." Good Lord, he thought, did I just bow to her?

"Rock music, John. And, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have yelled. I do tend to get worked up about the subject. It's why I don't bring it up. It's a bit of a hot button with the fans. Some of us have stayed true, while others..." She looked away and continued to seethe.

Sherlock was completely lost, but enjoyed seeing Molly agitated.

"Um, well what's got you Journeying today, if I may ask?" he said with a laugh, trying to keep the air light and away from dangerous, New Journey topics.

"Oh," she said with a bright smile, seeming to switch gears rather quickly. She started unbuttoning her lab coat, then she took it off and laid it on the counter next to her. She turned to the men and she caught her bottom lip in her teeth, managing a cheeky grin at the same time. She grabbed the bottom edge of her jumper and...

Hold on just a tick...

Let's travel into the minds' of Three Continents John Watson and The Boffin Detective for just a moment, if you don't mind...

John: Good God... Molly's about to flash us her beast... I can't see this... I can't see this... Oh but I'd want to. Mary'd understand, right? I'm still a man, for God's sake... And I'll give her a full report... it's for science. Yes! Here we go!

Sherlock: Finally! How many years has it taken? Oh, but of course John would have to be here... he ruins everything! Forget about John... you're about to see Molly's breasts... Focus! Keep the Palace clear!

Okay, thanks... back to the story...

...grabbed the bottom edge of her jumper and pulled it up, revealing a... Journey concert tee-shirt, Frontiers to be exact.

She lowered her jumper with a wide smile to find two very disappointed men in front of her.

"What? Isn't it cool? I found a web site where you can order all kinds of old concert tees. I may have ordered five," she added sheepishly.

Sherlock huffed. "Yes, very interesting. Now Mr. Smith's body." He walked over to the slab.

"Oh right, sorry." Molly followed.

Sherlock started to examine the body while John listened to Molly talk about Journey and Steve Perry ad nauseum. Sherlock tuned them out, for the most part. He heard her talk about how this Perry was a bit of a recluse and didn't do a lot of interviews. Oh, but he still wrote, and possibly recorded as well. On and on she went... he was so lovely... he was 'the Voice'... Journey invented Arena Rock, whatever the hell that was. Okay, maybe he paid a bit more attention than he had intended. After about fifteen minutes, Sherlock had what he needed from the corpse... he also had an idea.

Two months later...

Molly followed Sherlock down to the lobby of their posh hotel, trying to keep up with his quicker pace. "Sherlock seriously, you haven't told me a thing about this case or why you needed me to come at all?"

"All in due time, Molly."

"Are we meeting the client or a witness here? Come on Sherlock, I came all the way to LA, and you've told me absolutely nothing," she whined.

"It will be abundantly clear, very soon," he said with a smirk that made Molly more than a bit uncomfortable.

He sat her down on a sofa and left her there. Moments later he returned with a glass of water for her, then took a seat next to her. His odd behavior was offering her no hints whatsoever as to what was going on. After taking a drink of water, she asked, "Well?"

"Any minute now," he said, as his eyes darted around the room.

She shook her head. Seven years, you'd think I'd be used to these sort of things, she thought. Suddenly she felt Sherlock's hand on hers; her heart rate automatically picked up.

He leaned closer. "Do try to remain calm," he whispered in her ear then stood up, letting go of her hand.

A man approached and extended a hand to Sherlock. Well,not just a man... not just any man... that's... that's... OH, GOOD LORD! Molly was certain she must be dreaming; it was the only explanation for the fact that Steve freaking Perry was standing in front her, shaking hands with Sherlock Holmes. She was vaguely aware that they were speaking, but she couldn't hear them over the beating of her own heart. Then all of a sudden, there was a hand in front of her (the other end of said hand was attached to the former lead singer of Journey), and she was expected to touch the hand... shake it even. Oh, Dear Lord.

Molly managed to raise her hand and extend it in his general direction; thankfully he took over from there. He took her hand, brought it to his mouth... and freaking kissed it. Molly had read books in which women got 'the vapors'. Now she understood the term, completely. Steve Perry's lips are on my hand, she thought.

She knew she was supposed to speak, but no actual words were forming. He released her hand (still tingling from his lips) and sat down across from them.

"Thank you for meeting us, Mr. Perry," Sherlock said.

"Please, call me Steve."

His speaking voice is as sexy as his singing voice, Molly thought.

He turned his attention to her. "I understand that you're quite a big fan, Dr. Hooper."

Molly stared, motionless.

Sherlock looked between the two. "Ah, yes. Molly has been educating me on your career, Stephen."

The singer gave Sherlock an odd look. "She has?" He turned back to Molly. "A pathologist and an biographer. You're multi-talented, Doctor," he said with a wink.

Molly made sort of a throaty whine.

The men looked at each other.

Sherlock spoke up again, "Molly, did you have something you'd like to ask Stephen here? He was kind enough to meet us today."

She looked terrified for a moment, then got up and dashed across the lobby.

"You've lost your girlfriend, mate," Steve said with a chuckle.

Sherlock stood up to go after Molly, then turned back to the man. "She's not my girlfriend and don't say mate. You're not British and can't pull it off."

He found Molly on the other side of the bar. "Molly, what's wrong? I thought you'd love this... he's your idol. You wouldn't stop talking about him that day in the morgue."

It took her a moment to regulate her breathing, but finally she was able to speak. "Y-yes Sherlock, it's amazing. B-but... I-I can't believe you did this... I mean, S-steve P-perry is sitting over there." She peeked around the bar to make sure he was still there. Yep. Sherlock was still in full view of the rock star, but Molly had hidden herself behind a large fern.

"Why?" she whispered.

"Why? Why what?" he asked with a look of pure innocence on his face.

Molly looked at him like he had lost his mind. "Sherlock, this... this is... I mean how did you even pull it off? He doesn't do things like this... h-how?"

He suddenly looked a bit proud of himself. "Oh, it was nothing. Just have to know the right people." He took her hand and pulled her away from behind the fern. "Now, come along; we only have him for an hour."

"Wait, you never explained why."

Sherlock looked around and fidgeted a bit. "Well, I just... you love the music... and he's no longer in the band... and so you can't, well..."

Molly relaxed for the first time since the Voice showed up and smiled at her detective. "You just wanted to do something nice for me, didn't you?" she asked.

Sherlock sighed. "Um... yes," he finally admitted.

"This is an awfully big gesture, Sherlock." She tugged at the end of her blouse and looked up at him through her eyelashes. "Thank you, I'll try to act like a normal person when we get back over there." Then she leaned up, using Sherlock chest to steady herself, and placed a kiss on his cheek.

Sherlock stood stunned for a moment while Molly continued to look at him, not yet removing her hands. Finally, he snapped out of his daze. "Molly, it is an awfully big gesture. Don't you believe I'm owed a better kiss than that?"

Molly licked her lips and nodded as Sherlock leaned down to accommodate their difference in height. She reached up and threaded her fingers into his hair then brushed her lips across his. Sherlock took over from there, deepening the kiss and pressing Molly firmly against his body.

Across the lobby a semi-retired rock singer watched and furiously scribbled in a notepad, while humming to himself. There's a love song somewhere in this, he thought as he wrote.

So, what did you think? I have many more written. Understand, the rest aren't about Journey (even I don't love them that much). Only this one, but since it was DSB, and their biggest hit, I had to make this one about them. The rest are simply inspired by the songs or titles.

Come visit me on tumblr, same name. Thanks for reading.