For the Sake of Law and Order
Disclaimer: Only the story name and chapter titles belong to me. I do not own any part of the BBC's Sherlock, much as I wish I did :)

Author's Note: Hello, reader! As the summary states, this is an established Sherlolly one-shot collection. These chapters are non-linear and non-sequitor unless otherwise listed. Please enjoy!

Shout-outs: 'Kay, so I'm so out of it since I haven't posted in forever and I've lost track of a million and two things. Moral of story is, thanks to all those who followed or reviewed after last chapter and to those who followed or reviewed Five Doctors in the time I've been gone. Much love to you all.

Now: please enjoy!

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The Reasons Why

"Sherlock? I hope you've cleared your experiments off the table! The Watsons and the Prescotts will be over for supper in an hour and a half!" Molly called from the entryway as she hung her bag and coat on the rack. "Sherlock?" She rounded the corner and found him standing before the fireplace, hands clasped behind his back.

"Molly."

"Sherlock."

He settled back into silence, as Molly expected. She was just grateful that he had indeed cleared the table, and was about to go run a bath when he spoke again.

"You know, I have always set store by the fact that in all circumstances, once one has eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth."

"Indeed? Is there a moral to this story, or are you just enjoying the sound of your own voice?" Though he did not turn to face her, Molly could practically feel the force of the scowl that undoubtedly marred his features.

"I do wish you'd let me finish. You know how I struggle with... things like this."

Suddenly she was wary, and she made her way into the sitting room, stepping carefully and speaking softly.

"Things like what, Sherlock?"

He still wouldn't look at her.

"Things like... telling you... that since I've eliminated all of the impossible solutions... all that remains... improbable though it maybe, is... is that I love you."

She crossed her arms and stared at the broad expanse of his shoulders.

"And just what do you plan to do about it, Mr. Holmes?" she said, after uncounted moments.

Finally he turned around and tossed something at her. She caught it with ease, having become accustomed to things being thrown at her unexpectedly. She did live with Sherlock Holmes, after all.

It was a ring box.

"Actually, Doctor Hooper, I intended on escorting you to the municipal hall."