#notesfrommolly

      “You should come by for a reading. After you’ve won your teddy bear.”

Brendan motioned broadly to the windows and the street beyond. "Some bastard snatched m' fuckin' wallet as I was comin' up the street 'ere. S' I chased 'im down. He wanted I fight, I gave 'im one, an' I got this knock t' the 'ead.." He explained, wincing every now and then from the ice bag he was having to keep on. It wasn't often that he was overtaken by someone else, especially some random thug, but he'd managed to get his shit back. Plus he'd just have the man tracked down for killing later, so what did it matter if he admitted to getting beat up?

Something on your mind? You look a bit distracted.

Well, this was certainly a surprise. While Jim wasn’t normally into these kinds of things, he figured it would keep her sweet, so he kept her there. Besides, he couldn’t deny that she looked adorable when she was asleep.

Midnight in Zürich, ten in London. Loneliness had gotten to Sherlock, but he would not have recognized it as such. To him, it felt more like forgetting something, and calling Molly was the solution that kept coming up. Fortunately, Mycroft had supplied him with a series of nameless prepaid phones, and Sherlock was now waiting for Molly to pick up.

"Calm down? How can I possibly calm down when the entire plan has gone-to-shit at the hands of these useless bastards?”