"I think I should teach you self defense." Molly looked up at Sherlock.

"What?"

"You have to walk home, and I'm not always in London," he explained. "I would feel better if my wife knew how to defend herself."

"But Sherlock-"

"No buts, I insist, and what is more, I shall teach you. We'll begin tomorrow."

"Why tomorrow?"

"The case will be over by then," he shrugged. "Here, shall I give you a boost over the wall, or would you like me to go first?" Molly sighed.

"You really know how to treat a lady," she grunted, stepping into his cupped hands and he boosted her up so she could reach the top of the fence.

"I thought I took care of you last night," he slapped her bottom and she squeaked, falling over the end of the fence.

"Sherlock!"
"Are you alright?" He hauled himself up and over, seeing she'd landed in a pile of bins.

"Fine, you'll just have to take care of me tonight," she retorted. He smirked. "Massage, Sherlock,"

"Oh, I intend to," his grin was devilish. "Come on, if my suspicions are correct, our suspect as gone this way."

"Sherlock, wait my shoe is caught-" he turned to help her only to feel something strike him square in the back. He stumbled face-first toward the ground. Before he could retaliate, Molly was on her feet, her over-the-shoulder bag off her person landing square on Sherlock's lap. He grunted, catching the full weight of it and stumbled back. The opponent, who was in fact their suspect, swung a bat. Molly jumped, vaulting herself off the wall of the alley. She grabbed the end of the bat as the man jabbed at her, turning herself over, legs locked around his head, bringing him up and over, landing flat on his back, wind knocked out of him. He was up in a moment, bat out of his hands. He made to tackle, but she was faster. In a blur, as he dove forward, she punched him twice in the throat, he dropped to the ground, choking and quite incapacitated.

Molly stood over him, having retrieved the bat.

"Is that him?" she asked, panting. Sherlock, staring, got to his feet slowly, stepped over the suspect and pulled her close for a breathless embrace.

"Decidedly so," he said, when at last they pulled apart. He pulled out his phone, tapping out a number and hitting 'dial'. "Greg, found him, alley off of the main road, send a car over, hurry."

"Everything okay?"
"Oh yes, it's fine, but I'd like to go home and shag my wife." Greg coughed over the receiver.

"Geeze, Sherlock!" Sherlock hung up, pocketing his phone as he pulled Molly in for another kiss, the wail of sirens drawing closer and closer.