This was going to be a one-shot, but I have decided to expand it to include the scene where Sherlock shows Molly's boyfriend "his point of view".

It took Sherlock exactly twenty minutes to deduce the boyfriend's address and name and take a cab there. The small flat the man lived in was on the second floor, and Sherlock took less than one minute to pick the cheap lock. Immediately, the smell of cigarette assaulted his sensitive nostrils and Sherlock took a moment to observe the entryway. He noted the small smear of blood on the door handle and the overturned corner of the rug in the hallway (most likely flipped as Molly stumbled down the hallway). He made his way up the stairs to meet one Matthew Summers.

The man in question was sitting on his sofa watching TV. Sherlock entered the room with his hands clasped behind his back and his posture was ramrod straight. Matthew started off the couch, spluttering as he went.

"Shut up, you miserable excuse for intelligent life." Sherlock's voice was commanding, soft and emotionless. Matthew stopped, halfway standing, before sitting back down.

"Who are you?"

"I am Sherlock Holmes." Sherlock came to a stop in front of him. "I just came from my own flat where Molly Hooper is sitting on my couch being attended to by my flatmate and my landlady."

"I know who you are. It was always 'Sherlock did this' and 'Sherlock did that' with Molly." Matthew snorted. "Can't say I'm surprised she went to you after our little disagreement."

"Disagreement?" Sherlock probed.

"Yeah, disagreement. She thought she could just break it off between us." Matthew stood in a show of confidence. "I just showed her things from my point of view."

"So that's what you call a variety of bruises, cuts, and a dislocated shoulder. Your 'point of view'." Sherlock felt something building in his stomach, a feeling which from experience told him he was about to punch the person in front of him.

"Anything that happened after she left is not my problem. I never touched her." Matthew spat. "And even if I had, which I didn't, that little whore deserved it. She's always been a bit randy for you." A sound of crunching cartilage resounded through the room.

Sherlock stood over the whimpering man.

"You now have a broken nose. Try not to breathe too heavily through it. I'd hate for you to make it worse." Sherlock said disdainfully. "And I know that you abused Molly, do not lie to me. It will do an idiotic man like yourself no good. The way your knuckles are bruised suggests you repeatedly struck something, the remains of hastily swept dirt suggests you knocked the plant on the table over when you shoved her against it, and the size of your hands matches the bruises on her neck and collarbone."

"You broke my nose!" Matthew said stupidly. Sherlock rolled his eyes.

"You made her give you the things she holds most dear because you knew that she would never leave without them. A remarkably intelligent thing to do for someone with as low an IQ as yourself. Tell me where you have Molly's things." Sherlock followed Matthew's quick glance at the bedroom. "Ah, I see. I am retrieving Molly's things and you will never see her again, are we clear?"

Matthew lunged at Sherlock. Sherlock smirked. Less than one minute later, Matthew was once again on the floor. Sherlock squatted by his face.

"Now, that's my point of view. If you ever go near Molly Hooper again, I will be there to refresh your memory." Sherlock stood and went into the bedroom, returning with a box. "I took the liberty of adding some money to the box. You don't mind, do you?"

The man on the floor groaned. Sherlock wrapped his scarf tighter around his neck and stepped outside into the night again.

Ok. Now this story is over. What do you think? A worthy addition?