Epilogue

Molly smiled, holding back the urge to laugh as she watched Sherlock participate in a rather intense staring contest with Toby. It was funny really, the two hated each other; both being Alpha males and vying for her attention. Though he would never admit it. She couldn't feel sorry for Sherlock, it had been his idea to move her into 221B after everything, and that meant he had to deal with her cat.

She was currently sitting on the sofa, curled up with the cup of tea Mrs Hudson insisted she drink. It had only been a few days since she had been kidnapped; her wrists still swollen and sore, were on the mend, but she wasn't sure her mind was there yet.

Nightmares plagued her dreams, images of dingy walls and dirty sheets waking her in the middle of the night. She knew it was normal to experience such things after going through an ordeal like she had, but she couldn't help but feel weak for it. Of course Sherlock wouldn't hear any of that, using John as an example; he still experienced night terrors of the war and no one would ever call him weak, and no one would her.

John had given her the contact information of his therapist, but she had yet to make the call. She did plan on it, of course she did, but at the moment all she wanted was the comfort of her friends.

Molly finally gave into the urge to laugh just as John and Mary walked into the room, several bags of takeout in their hands. It was something they started the day after she had been rescued. According to Mary, Molly shouldn't have to cook and Sherlock couldn't cook, so it was only logical that they bring them food.

While Mary pulled out plates in the kitchen to portion out the meal; something that she refused to allow Molly to help with, John flopped down in the chair that everyone still considered his. He rolled his eyes at his friend, he wished he could say walking in on a staring contest with a genius and a cat was rare for him, but sadly he couldn't. What was worse was how many times Sherlock actually lost the battle.

"I talked to Lestrade this morning. I guess Ashley killed herself last night, somehow she had gotten a hold of a knife and had split her arms, wrist to elbow.

"He figures that it has to be one of his own men, but after the deaths of so many children everyone seems alright with reporting it as an oversight in their search. Officially Ashley Elsberry had a hidden knife on her person that hadn't been accounted for and she had used it once she had been fully alone." John ran a hand over his lips, peering over to see how Molly took the news. He wasn't sure what he was expecting, a relived smile, a blank face, but what he found was a welling of tears as she bit her lip to quash them.

Everyone was silent after that announcement, not really sure if they were sorry or not. Ashley had been very troubled, but she had still killed so many children.

"I've been looking into Ashley's past lately." Sherlock broke the silence along with the staring contest with Toby, looking up at the room around him. He felt his stomach clench at Molly's wet eyes, but he knew she would be able to handle it, to pull herself back together.

"She had been abused, both physically and sexually by her stepfather when she was a child, and her mother had been a drug addict. She had been sixteen when she left home; from there she went from home to home, man to man until she was nineteen and married a man named Tyler Elsberry.

"Tyler had been a drug and alcohol addict and had beaten on her just as her step father had; she was twenty-five when she had given birth to a child, a daughter.

"A daughter that had died one night when she was only six months old. The autopsy revealed the child to have been suffocated, it was ruled accidental and product of the child rolling over in her sleep and into a bundled up blanket." Sherlock knew he would have to have a talk with Mrs Johnston on background checks for her volunteers; the psych evaluation for Ashley should have been a huge red flag.

"It wasn't an accident, was it?" Molly shivered, picking up her cup to take in a large drink of her cooling tea.

"It was most likely either Tyler in a fit of rage or the beginning of Ashley's obsession with protecting a child from the pain and hurt she had experienced her whole life. Turns out it had been about both her and her child after all." He had known there was something familiar about the way the children had been killed. He had remembered reading about the case, but after the ruling he had deleted the information as it seemed useless at the time.

"She had never had the chance, had she?" Molly leaned over, placing her cup on the table. No one answered her, but she hadn't been expecting one. Ashley had been given a bad lot from the beginning, Molly didn't know whether to hate her or pity her.

"Can we please talk about something else, it is sad what happened; for everyone involved, but isn't something I really want to mull over. Mostly when I'm about to eat. Remember, no murder talk at the dinner table." Mary walked back into the room with several plates and a pinched expression on her face. It seemed funny to think she had to actually make that rule, but when it came to Sherlock and her husband it was necessary.

"We are not at the dinner table." Sherlock took his offered plate, though everyone knew he would only pick at it.

"That is true, but your table currently is covered in something pink and sticky, and I really don't want to know what it is." Mary handed off a plate to Molly before sitting down beside her. She might have been a bit more protective of her friend, but Mary had to admit that Sherlock was doing a good job at taking care of her.

"It was an experiment."

"Alright you two, that is enough. Can we just eat?" Molly stabbed at her plate, a little more irritated at the two of them than usual.

For a few minutes everyone was silent, uncomfortable at upsetting Molly. For her part she wished they would all just stop with the tiptoeing around her, she was a grown woman and she would be able to move past everything. In time at least. She was about to take another bite when she remembered something she had wanted to bring up to Sherlock.

"I visited the Haven yesterday to apologize to the director for my deception, and I found out something rather interesting. Lilly, the baby I had been kidnapped with, and her mother Emma have found themselves a rather rich benefactor. They are currently being housed in a rather nice flat, Emma is receiving support for her drug addiction and little Lilly has everything a girl could ever want." Molly pretty much already knew who was responsible, but the roll of Sherlock's eyes and shrug of his shoulders confirmed it.

Both John and Mary looked to Sherlock, but he just scoffed.

"I didn't have anything to with it, Mycroft just has a soft spot for children even though he will never admit to it."

John and Molly just chuckled, the two brothers were more alike than they would ever like to be.

Molly leaned against the doorway to the kitchen, watching Sherlock work. The rest of the evening had progressed as it did every night. They finished eating, Sherlock and Mary had a bit of a banter while John tried to wrangle in both his friend and his wife. All the while Molly had sat back and contemplated on the new dynamics of her circle of friends. Sherlock and Mary would never be best friends, but at least they could spend time around each other without committing murder.

"I should probably be moving back into my own flat." It wasn't that she really wanted to go, but there really was no reason to stay. Her wrists were healing well, and she would be calling the therapist in the morning to schedule an appointment.

Sherlock froze for a moment, before continuing with his experiments, mumbling a reply practically under his breath.

Feeling daring, Molly walked up behind him, placing one of her hands on his shoulder as she slipped the other one into his hair.

"Unless of course there is a reason why I shouldn't leave." She scratched her nails along his scalp, feeling him shiver at her actions.

Sherlock looked up from his microscope and pulled her hands away so he could turn in his seat, Molly finally coming face to face with him as she stood and he sat.

Without a word he slipped a hand through her hair and pulled her in for a heated kiss. Molly stumbled, but regained her balance by placing her hands on his shoulders. She had never expected him to actually initiate a kiss between them. She had been trying to convince herself that he had only kissed her after she had been saved because of some adrenaline rush. Only now all that convincing had been tossed out the window as Sherlock pulled her in between his legs so he could more easily deepen the kiss.

After a few moments he pulled back, running a single finger across her lips as he cocked his head with a single brow lifted.

"Yeah, that is a pretty good reason."

Author's Note: Oh look, I finished! Can't believe I actually finished it though. Hope everyone enjoyed it.

For all those that are planning on reading "And Isn't This A Crime" I will be posting the preface either tonight or tomorrow.

Thank you to everyone that had read, reviewed, fav'd and followed. It really makes me smile when I get an alert.

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.