Sherlock: The Next Generation

Chapter 65

Chapter 65

"Thank you for the lovely evening, Zack," Molly smiled up at the slightly taller boy, head slightly tilted. It had been a few months since Molly had broken up with Finn and she had decided that, hey, a boy was asking her out so they might as well go on a date. And Zack was pretty nice.

"I enjoyed it too," Zack grinned at her. "But please, let me escort you up to your flat."

"That will not be necessary." Molly was halfway through the door, turning around to glance at him. She had been blessed with Finn being intrigued, rather than scared, by her dad's deductions. She doubted she would have that luck again.

"Please, I insist."

"Fine," Molly frowned slightly as Zack followed her in and up the stairs. Molly gently pushed the door open, stepping in. "I'm home."

"Hello, Molly," John looked up from reading on the sofa with a smile. Molly watched as a mass of black, curly hair rose from where it had obviously been on John's lap to become her dad, sharp eyes focusing on the boy behind her.

"Molly," Sherlock smiled warmly at his daughter. "And is this your new boyfriend? Please, do come in."

Zack tilted his head and stepped in behind Molly, a light grin on his lips. Molly shot her dad a glare as she hung in between the sofa and Zack. John didn't say anything, just smiling slightly at the boy.

"So, were you hoping that we wouldn't be at home or is there someone else you are visiting later? You do know Molly is only fifteen, don't you?" Sherlock's smile was sickly sweet. Zack turned a bright red, a few stutters leaving his lips.

"I've got to go. Bye." He was pretty quick to get out of the door.

"Dad!" Molly's eyes were wide as she turned to face Sherlock, who had disappeared to rest his head on John's lap again. She headed around the sofa so she could properly glare at him. John just frowned, looking slightly confused.

"Have you lost your skills or were you choosing to ignore the clear facts?" Sherlock spoke drily. Then, to John, "He had condoms in his pocket."

"I am going to kill that son of a bitch," John practically growled, going from calm to a storm of rage in a few seconds. Molly sighed, collapsing onto John's chair and curling into a small ball.

"I hoped he just carried them around, you know," Molly mumbled.

"And what teenage boy does that, Molly?" John frowned, eyes on his daughter. "You're smarter than that."

Molly just rolled her eyes. "Well I think we can safely say that that relationship is ruined anyway, so no problem." She looked up. "I think I might go to bed... A bit tired."

"That would be a good idea. I may need your help tomorrow." Sherlock furrowed his brow slightly. Yes, this case could warrant some help. His brain was beginning to slow, if just a bit. With age and all. Stupid thing. A fresh look at the facts might help.

"Good," Molly grinned, hopping up. "Night, Papa." She hugged John, who ruffled her hair fondly. "Night dad." She half hugged him, though it was quite hard to do considering that he was lying across the sofa. She slipped off into her room.

"Seriously, though, he was?" John didn't finish, making a face.

"Yup."

Molly entered the living room the next morning bright and early to find her dad sitting in his chair making a face into his mug. She arched an eyebrow, shrugging as she entered the kitchen to grab some (okay, more than some) food.

"Eh, dad... Why is the kettle on the floor?" She looked in dismay at the state of the kitchen. So much for making herself a cup of tea.

"It was annoying me. It would not make the tea right."

"Yes, that is definitely the kettle's fault," Molly responded sarcastically. "Have you never made tea before?"

"I can make tea, Molly. This just doesn't taste... right. It isn't like John's."

"Why didn't you get Papa to make it then?"

"He refused to get out of bed to do such a thing."

Molly peered back around the corner to see Sherlock looking rather offended. As if John had committed the most heinous of crimes.

"What if I made you some tea?"

"That is acceptable. Anything will be better than this." He put the mug down in disgust. Molly chuckled, setting to work. She got herself about four slices of toast while she made the tea (taking a while to make sure the kettle wasn't actually broken). She made sure to spread on as much jam as possible. It was a love she shared with her Papa.

Sherlock gave her a warm smile as she handed him his fresh cup of tea, sitting down with her own.

"I need you to look over all the papers on the desk. I've obviously missed something, something obvious. Whoever it is has already killed five people and will undoubtedly kill more. Your Papa and I are going to go out to see what we can find. You need to call if you find anything else."

"Got it," Molly nodded. It didn't take her long to finish her breakfast and begin looking through the various, scrambled pieces of evidence her dad had collected. The amount of stuff strewn everywhere... It was crazy. And the stuff pinned up on his board wasn't much better. She was glad she had her own board to collect her thoughts there. She was beginning to get somewhere. She did, of course, take food breaks. No other breaks, though. Sherlock and John returned from a fruitless search and Sherlock joined her, the two working together. John vacated the room to sleep with the warning that Molly had better go to bed soon.

She pretended not to hear him.

"Molly, did you purposefully put on the same clothes or did you just not sleep?" John folded his arms, frowning at his daughter where she was munching on an apple.

"I slept," she mumbled, blinking slightly. It had been a late night, but she had slept. "I just didn't change my clothes."

"You slept in those?" John's eyes widened, a glare shot in Sherlock's direction. This was all his fault. Passing on his obsessive case solving gene.

"Yeah."

"Go change your clothes. Now."

Molly shook her head. "No, Papa, I am on a case. So I will not change my clothes." John just sighed. He knew when to pick his fights. And right now he wouldn't get anywhere.

Sherlock and Molly worked the whole morning, John popping out for most of it. He was getting a bit stir crazy with the two of them doing their crazy genius things.

"Dad," Molly stared at a sheet of paper, glancing up at Sherlock. "I think I've got it."

Sherlock just nodded, not even asking for an explanation. They didn't have much time. The case had been going on for too long as it was. The murderer could strike again at any moment. "John, get your coat back on. We've got a murderer to catch."