Many thanks to MapleLeafCameo for looking this over for me! I do not own, nor do I profit.

For the rest of his life John would swear there was nothing he could have done. He would claim it was like watching a collision and being unable to do prevent it, and God knows he had tried.

A serial killer was on the loose and carving zodiac signs into their victims. After looking over the crime scene where a young woman in her mid twenties had a lion engraved above her heart, Sherlock had declared he needed to go back to the morgue and look at victim number three again. As they left Sherlock texted Molly a demand that she meet them there when John knew it was the poor girl's day off.

Molly's crush had seemed to fade over the past few months. Nevertheless, her awe at Sherlock's genius still made her a target for exploitation when the detective wanted her services. John knew this was the reason Molly arrived at her office five minutes after they had.

John had never thought of the pathologist as fashion-conscious. Despite that, she was always dressed neatly even when called in at three in the morning. That was why John was surprised to see her wearing worn yoga trousers, a stained t-shirt and canvas trainers. The knitted cardigan Molly had tightly wrapped around her frame was two sizes too large and bulky. She also looked exhausted, despite it being early afternoon, and upset.

"Ah, Molly, I need to see Tom Hardy from two days ago," Sherlock ordered, as he made his way out of the office.

John saw Molly grimace in discomfort as she lightly rubbed her stomach.

Concerned he walked closer. "Are you all right?"

"Yes, I'll be fine. Just part of the pleasure of being female," she answered, distracted.

A bit embarrassed at being given more personal information than he'd expected, John patted Molly's arm lightly.

Sherlock appeared in the doorway. "Feel free to take your time Molly. Only three people dead in the last seventy-two hours, it isn't as if we needed to do anything to try and stop him."

Molly flinched. Sherlock was possibly the most intelligent man alive but sometimes, well to be honest, he could be an oblivious idiot.

"Sherlock, Molly was just-"

Of course that was when his friend decided to cut him off with deductions he'd made after glancing Molly's way.

"Judging by Molly's appearance she is having troubles in the realm of romance. Considering the state of her clothes our Molly isn't thinking too highly of herself today. Clothes all at least three years old considering the number of times her trousers have been washed, more of a grey than its original colour of black."

Molly's eyes narrowed and John began to grow nervous. The doctor tried to draw attention to himself by giving Sherlock a sharp look, but the man was on a roll and would not be stopped.

"Handmade cardigan but far too large for you, that means you keep it to wear when you need comfort. Something you can disappear in."

The arm John's hand still rested on, tensed.

"Hair put up in a sloppy manner so now a third of the strands have managed to escape. Just another indication there isn't a man to impress."

John knew this could end badly, "Sherlock."

Sherlock stepped closer and peered at Molly's face. "You seem to have some chocolate stuck to the corner of your mouth. Drowning your sorrows in a tub of chocolate ice cream?"

"You really need to shut up," John cautioned.

"I'm simply pointing out the obvious. Even Anderson could see-"

Sherlock's words were cut off by Molly's advancing on his person with a glare that would make Mycroft proud.

"Of course I have to be having romance troubles. Stupid Molly who can't get a man, let alone keep one. That is what you think isn't it? Well for your information, I do have a boyfriend. His name is Michael and he's a junior broker with a prestigious trading firm."

In order to avoid physical contact Sherlock had been forced to step back each time Molly moved forward. Unfortunately, his back hit the doorframe and the irate woman in front of him caught up.

"What phrase do you like to taunt people with? You see but you do not observe. You think you know everything don't you? God's gift to the world," every other word was punctuated by a pointer finger jabbed into Sherlock's chest. "I'm just another person who couldn't possibly be as important as you. Never mind the considerable amount of information I've shared with you that could have got me fired or the days, like today, when I've come in to help on my day off because you refuse to work with my colleague."

Sherlock winced as each poke hit its mark. For a moment John thought to try and diffuse the situation but this new Molly was a force to be reckoned with and John didn't fancy the idea of getting caught in the crossfire.

"All those times I let you manipulate me because I thought you were so wonderful, so smart and so talented. Well I'm not an idiot. I might act like it because I get nervous around you but I graduated top of my class. Did it ever occur to you I'm dressed like this today because I don't feel well? No, it couldn't possibly be that. No, it has to be problems with a man."

Molly turned around, grabbed her purse and keys off her desk and then headed back to the door. As she passed by Sherlock she paused to give one more poke, this time in his right arm, "If you want to be an absolute tosser, you can get help from someone else. I'm going back home."

A second later both men could hear a door slam and then there was silence. John saw Sherlock slowly relax away from the doorframe.

"Are you going to be all right then?" John queried, as he tried not to laugh at the shocked expression on his friend's face.

"I'm fine, just fine," Sherlock lied. Despite his assuring words John could hear the slight tremor in his voice.

"Do you want me to go and try to find Jackson? See if he can let us see Hardy's body?"

Sherlock took a deep breath but didn't answer. After waiting a short while, John started to chuckle.

"Took you by surprise didn't she? About time you learned that not even Molly will take your arrogance if the situation is right."

"And what situation might that be?" Sherlock asked, as he rose to his full height.

John walked over to his flatmate and rested a reassuring hand on the nearby shoulder.

"Well, take your condescending attitude, mix it with a woman who is at just the right stage in her cycle and you are going to be the recipient of a tongue lashing that would make my Nan proud."