How to Play a Game Called Murder

Chapter 21: The Bad Valentine's Day

“So…?” Mary raised a brow at Molly as they walked towards the bathroom, following the unspoken rule that women go in groups. “How did Sherlock do today?”

Molly giggled, averting her eyes, and Mary smiled.

“Good. John was worried he’d cock it up but I had faith in him. What did you two do?”

Remembering the events of the day, Molly blushed, before replying, “Not much.”

Mary grinned, knowingly. “Alright missy, keep your secrets.” She rubbed her swollen belly. “Ugh, I’m so tired of being pregnant. I’m not sure I’ll survive until the due date.”

“March 8th, right?” Molly washed her hands as Mary took care of business.

“Yes, and it’s only February 14th and I’m already dying. My back is killing me!”

They exited the ladies’ room and returned to the table, Mary settling herself into her chair with help from her husband. Sherlock stood and pulled out Molly’s chair for her which elicited a blush from the pathologist and a smirk from the other two.

“Have you gotten everything for little Amanda yet?” Molly asked the expectant parents, who began rattling off lists of items they had and others they still needed to buy.

Sherlock zoned out, just watching the interactions between his friends and his girlfriend. Hmmm, girlfriend. I like that. Why on earth do I like that? It’s a childish name for her but it fits. Odd. Boyfriend, he wasn’t so sure he could handle. Partner? No, that’s John. In hindsight, that might be fuel for some of the rumors. Lover? No, don’t want to send people’s minds in the wrong direction. Companion? He nearly laughed out loud as he got a mental image of himself dressed as The Doctor and Molly wearing Rose’s outfit. I’ll figure this out later.

He cleared his throat as everyone stared at him.

“What are we talking about?”

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Molly and Sherlock exited Angelo’s first, still laughing at the owner’s confusion at the two couples. At first, Angelo had assumed that Molly and Mary were a couple as well as John and Sherlock.

“I’m not sure he actually believes us,” Molly giggled.

Sherlock put an arm around her shoulders. “Oh well. People are stupid.” He turned to peer back into the restaurant to locate John and Mary. “What is taking them so long?”

“Oh be nice, Sherlock.” Molly hit him playfully in the chest. “She’s very pregnant. She’s slow.”

“Nonsense, you can’t be very pregnant. You either are or you aren’t.”

“Have it your way.” Molly shook her head at him and he pulled her closer as they waited.

John came through the door after a moment, supporting a waddling Mary.

“Oh, I’m as big as a house!”

Sherlock sighed. “Mary…”

“Oh, do shut up Sherlock.”

He grinned. He really did like Mary.

They made to cross the street and were a few steps into the street, when the building across from them exploded, throwing all four of them to the pavement.

Sherlock lay on his back, his mind racing. There are no coincidences. Why now though? Molly. Is Molly ok? Did Mary land on her belly? He craned his neck, reaching out for Molly had recovered and was crawling to Mary, who lay flat on her back. He vaguely heard her soothing the pregnant woman.