Title: Jones
Rating: light M
Pairing: Established Sherlock/Molly & John/Mary
Warnings: Mild sexual content
Summary: Following his marriage to Molly, Sherlock takes on a super secret case with her that induces intrigue- or irritation- in all around them.
Disclaimer: Sir ACD, The Grand Moff and Godtiss have a tight hold on these things. If I had it, EVERY episode would be about the Jones Case.
Author's Notes: Lex is to blame, Lex is to blame, Lex is to blame. This story takes place between "The Full House" and "The Party of Four".

There were a few things about Sherlock Holmes that a year ago John Watson had thought he had known with absolute certainty.

One: Sherlock Holmes had absolutely no deal when it came to sex. Men, women, small furry creatures from Alpha Centauri, whatever; Sherlock just wasn't interested.

Two: There would come a time that John would get married and leave Sherlock all alone to remain a bachelor until the end of his days.

Three: Nothing would ever distract Sherlock from a nice and vicious murder.

As it had turned out, John was wrong on every single front. Sherlock did have a deal. It could be summed up in two words: Molly Hooper. Beyond all logic and comprehension, Sherlock had begun a relationship with Molly and was very contentedly in love with the mousy pathologist.

While John would get married- he and Mary had finally set a date- Sherlock had managed to beat him to the altar. Well, there had not been an actual altar involved. Just a civil office. Sherlock and Molly were also not public with their union. Only John, Mary, Mrs Hudson, and their brothers were aware they had married.

Sometimes John wondered if Molly would have liked something a bit grander, but she seemed to be content with Sherlock occasionally calling her 'Doctor Holmes' in the privacy of 221B.

John was quite pleased to have been proven wrong on the first two points. Sherlock was in a very stable, healthy relationship and had begun to act far more normal than John would have ever thought possible.

The third point was a bit more complicated. John was happy Sherlock found satisfaction outside of work. His addiction to solving cases had nearly combusted his relationship with Molly several months prior to their marriage. Yet now, Sherlock had a new addiction to replace all of his former vices. It was one that made John incredibly uncomfortable.

Sherlock Holmes really liked sex.

When he'd still been living at 221B- despite rule number one of the flat being 'Keep it in the bedroom for pity's sake'- John could not count the number of times he'd walked in on Sherlock and Molly in some sort of compromising position. Of course, as far as John was concerned, simply finding the pair snogging on the sofa counted as 'compromising'. The idea of Sherlock Holmes being a sexual creature at all was just unsettling.

It had just become worse once John and Mary had left 221B in favour of their new home. Sherlock had thrown out Rule Number One the second they were out the door. Despite this, Sherlock had allowed John to keep his key to the flat and gave him free reign to walk in whenever he wanted. John sometimes wondered if Sherlock had a bit of an exhibitionist streak.

And then, there was The Jones Case.

Sherlock and Molly had been resorting to code for a while before they were married. It hadn't been quite so specific in the beginning. 'An experiment' was an easy excuse for staying up all night and any thumps that might have ended up audible in John's room.

After Sherlock discovered wedding bands on chains tucked under Molly's jumpers and his well-tailored shirts were a powerful aphrodisiac, he knew they had to be more scientific about things. There had to be a specific plan of action. So with the newly minted Doctor Holmes at his side, he plotted.

It was first employed when Sherlock and John were summoned to Barts on a terribly tedious case. Simple robbery. Killer hadn't intended murder but had panicked. Boring.

Molly had just been too cute when she pulled back the sheet covering the victim, giving him a small sympathetic smile and rolling her eyes. His wife knew him well enough to know the case wouldn't interest him. He was certain she had argued about disturbing him with something so petty. Yet Sherlock could not say he was unhappy with the needless trip to Barts.

He sent a quick text to Lestrade, giving the Inspector his analysis of the situation. "While I'm here, Molly... I was hoping you could give me some assistance on the Jones Case."

John furrowed his brow deeply in confusion. "Jones Case?" He shook his head. "Sherlock, we're not working on a Jones Case right now."

"Just came up," Sherlock replied, not taking his eyes off Molly. Her cheeks had turned slightly pink and her breathing had deepened. If she was not careful, she might give things away. "Nothing you need to worry about. In fact, I believe you had dinner plans with Mary...?"

Five minutes later, Sherlock had Molly pinned against a shelf full of medical supplies in one of the storage cupboards. He pulled away from her mouth, panting. "Doctor Holmes, I believe we are going to have to get very in depth with this case."

The Jones Case proved to be incredibly intriguing for Mister and Doctor Holmes. While most frequently explored at Barts when Molly had some downtime and Sherlock was stuck doing something tedious, they'd investigated in a few other locations for the sake of being incredibly thorough.

Sherlock felt incredibly clever about his deception. It was exhilarating, really. As much as he had come to enjoy giving into his biological desires, there was something very special about the Jones Case. Not only did it satiate physical cravings, it intrigued him on an intellectual level.

But most of all, he just felt like a very naughty consulting detective.

Sherlock and John were not often joined by Molly at a crime scene. She had made it clear she was much more comfortable around dead bodies in the controlled environment of her morgue. Yet sometimes if she did not have a shift, Sherlock would manage to get her to come out. Sherlock claimed it was because John could use a second pair of medically trained eyes, but John knew Sherlock just enjoyed having his wife solving crimes with him.

The case had involved a woman's deceased twin sister. Sherlock had expressed his intrigue by the victim's dying words.

While John's skills with observation were not nearly as keen as Sherlock, he'd seen his friend riveted not to the corpse, but the pathologist examining it.

"I'm going to have to get a better look at Barts," Molly commented, looking to John. "Did you want to come with me?"

John nodded. "Sure. Like to see exactly where this goes."

Lestrade made his way across the room. "So tell me what you think."

Sherlock had not yet looked away from Molly. "John will accompany the corpse to Barts. Molly will join him shortly."

Lestrade furrowed his brow. "What? But... You do realize Molly is the one who works at Barts, don't you?"

"Of course I am aware," Sherlock replied tersely. "Doctor Hooper, I have some new developments in the Jones Case I wish to discuss with you."

Molly peeled off her gloves and got to her feet, frowning slightly. "Oh? Sherlock, really... Can't it wait until a little later?" She bit her lower lip.

Sherlock shook his head. "No. It has to be now. It's critical, in fact."

He put a hand on the small of Molly's back and began to lead her away.

"Hey!" Lestrade called out after them. "You're already on a case!"

Sherlock turned around, walking backwards. "Private case, Lestrade. Time is of the essence. Meet you at Barts!"

Lestrade stood there stunned while John just rolled his eyes. "It's code for 'let's go have a snog'... At least, let's just all hope that it's just a snog."

"What?" Lestrade yelped. "In the middle of a case?"

John sighed. "Newlyweds."

Lestrade's eyes went wide. "Really?"

John shrugged. "Don't tell him I told you. He'll kill me."

Lestrade shook his head. "Even if... At a crime scene? Where are they going?"

A few minutes later, Sgt Donovan came into the room, her features etched in anger. "Detective Inspector, someone has stolen the keys to my squad car and now it's gone."

Sgt Donovan's squad car turned up at Scotland Yard two hours later.

The Personal Blog of Dr. John H. Watson

July 20th


If Sherlock has his way, this case will never go cold.

And I will be endlessly annoyed.


Molly, fetch me my revolver.
Sherlock Holmes, July 20th, 22:17

Sherlock, just go work on the Jones case yourself.
John Watson, July 20th, 22:20

Sherlock was highly irritated his 'clever' code had been deciphered. He didn't speak to John for days, despite summoning him by text to 221B each morning. Once John came over, Sherlock stewed silently on the sofa.

Doctor Mrs Consulting Detective simply turned beet red at the sight of John and made hasty retreats.

Finally, fed up, John shouted. "MOLLY! I really don't give a toss when or where you and Sherlock shag or if you have some silly little code! How about you two just don't commit grand theft auto to add some extra kink?"

After that, Sherlock added 'play the violin as loud and gratingly as possible' to his sulking regiment.

Sherlock rolled his eyes as he answered his mobile. "Brother."

"Ah, Sherlock," Mycroft voice was sickeningly sweet. "Do you mind telling me why my employer is asking how the Jones Case is going for you? Someone in her position should have no interest in your newly discovered rampaging libido."

Sherlock remained silent.

Mycroft sighed. "Discretion is paramount, Sherlock. And do make sure to keep the safety on your revolver when you're investigating the case."

"Very inelegant metaphor, Mycroft," Sherlock finally replied. "Revolvers do not have safety."

"Just don't get your wife pregnant, Sherlock!"

A week and a half after John's blog post, he'd stomped towards the door to 221B, as was his routine. "I'm coming in!" He called out, warning the occupants inside to make themselves presentable.

He was answered by a strangled moan. "Jones Case!"

John stopped dead, hand poised over the doorknob. He scowled. "You know, I think I prefer it when you have to yell Vatican Cameos!"

A week after, when John came around, an empty police file lifted from Scotland Yard had been taped to the door with the name JONES scrawled across it.

John deduced that Sherlock didn't own any neckties.

Sherlock scowled deeply as he strode into Scotland Yard alongside John. He had been in a thoroughly miserable mood for the past five days.

The Stoner case had been wrapped and already written up on John's blog (with Sherlock criticizing John for his repetitive nomenclature). Nothing of interest had come in since and it left Sherlock tetchy.

He'd unfortunately turned his anxiousness on his new bride, making a rapid and devastating deduction about her.

Sherlock had been forced to sleep in the lab he'd created in John's old bedroom. Molly was so angry she wouldn't even let him sleep on the sofa.

With no cases and Molly's ire directed at him, Sherlock was in a terrible temper. He stormed into Lestrade's office, ignoring the protests of the officers attempting to stop him.

"Come on, Lestrade!" Sherlock bellowed. "You must have something for me! We're in the center of London! People are murdering each other all the time! There must be something your force is too incompetent to take care of!"

Lestrade leaned back in his chair, smirking at Sherlock. "Oh, Sherlock. Nice of you to drop by. How goes the Jones Case? Still cold?" His eyes sparkled mischievously as he took a bite of his pastry. "I think you're losing your touch."

Sherlock glowered at John for gossiping about the state of his marriage. He then turned his icy gaze back to Lestrade. "Inspector, it is glaringly obvious you remain jealous I got the case." He spoke through gritted teeth. "Now is there anything?"

Lestrade rolled his eyes. "Let's me just state I'm just doing this so your nearest and dearest don't have to put up with an anxious prat any longer." He threw a file onto the desk. "Came in a couple of hours ago. Double murder. Bodies are waiting for you."

Sherlock took up the case file. "Hm. Interesting."

"...At Barts."

Sherlock snapped the file closed and looked to Lestrade.

Lestrade's grin widened. "Do you think the Pathologist on duty is going to be willing to do you a favour?"

Sherlock scowled, stalking out of Lestrade's office. Lestrade followed after him, "All right everyone, the Jones case has hit a serious snag. Sherlock is extremely upset. Best just keep your distance."

If looks could kill, the Detective Inspector would have been turned to ash.

John had never witnessed Molly acting so cold towards Sherlock. Not when he was so clearly trying to get back into her good graces. She had her arms crossed over her chest while John looked over pair of dead bodies on parallel autopsy tables.

Out of the corner of his eye, John noticed Sherlock poke Molly gently in the side with his finger. "Very flattering jumper today, Doctor Hooper."

Molly didn't respond verbally, but her gaze did dart up to meet her husband's. Sherlock smiled down at her with his most charming expression.

"I'm just trying to help solve this case," Molly finally said. "And not because you become dreadful when you're not solving something. Because whoever killed them should go to jail."

John wondered exactly what Sherlock had said to Molly to make her so upset.

Sherlock leaned down towards Molly. "My laboratory is cold."

Molly nodded. "As laboratories are wont to be."

Sherlock moved closer still. "Molly..."

"Don't do that!" Molly squeaked.

"Don't do what?" Sherlock intoned darkly.

"Say my name like that," Molly's voice was small.

"Like what?" Sherlock asked. He leaned in closer. "...Molly?" His voice was low and husky. "Darling."

Molly let out another small squeak. Sherlock moved in closer still. "I've missed your squeaks, Molly."

John rolled his eyes and tried to keep his attention on the two dead bodies. The dead bodies Sherlock had been aching to investigate, but now seemed to not even register.

Molly tried to look as stern as possible. "And?"

Sherlock's eyes narrowed. "You're... Pretty?"

Molly glowered.

Sherlock sighed. "I..." He grimaced before looking down at Molly with wide eyes. "I wish we weren't fighting?"

Molly crossed her arms over her chest.

"OH for the love of-" John slammed his hand down on the autopsy table. "You two are idiots, do you know that? Sherlock, you are obviously sorry you upset your wife. Just tell her. And Molly- you married Sherlock Holmes. I know you wish he'd be a bit nicer, but he's Sherlock bloody Holmes. You're going to have to learn to let him deduce a thing or two about you. You want to know why he wants to deduce you? Because he finds you bloody fascinating!"

Both Molly and Sherlock remained quiet when John finished his rant. John sighed, nodding. "There. I feel better now."

Sherlock looked down at Molly. "I do find you fascinating." He nudged her. "I am sorry I did not consider your feelings more."

Molly considered her husband's words. She then smiled. "I'm sorry if maybe I was overly sensitive. But..."

"No deducing you," Sherlock said firmly. "Can I observe at least? I enjoy observing you."

Molly sighed. "I think observation is all right." She got up on her tiptoes. "You know, I think I had a break in the Jones case."

"Really?" Sherlock beamed. "Lead the way, Doctor Holmes."

With that, the pair scampered off to places thankfully unknown to John. He looked down and let out a sigh. "I'll just stay here with these two murdered people then!"

John didn't see Sherlock again until three days later, when he was summoned to 221B for the sole purpose of retrieving Sherlock's mobile from his jacket. He was fully absorbed in reading the paper.

"You know you just left me in the morgue," John said as he gave Sherlock the phone and sat down across from him, fixing himself a cup of tea.

"Hm?" Sherlock tapped out a quick text. "I'd already solved the case."

"What?" John yelped. He then looked down, shaking his head. "No, you couldn't have. You were completely occupied with your wife. You couldn't have-"

"Didn't need to see the bodies," Sherlock replied. "I looked at the case at Scotland Yard. It was the cook."

John sighed. "So we just went to Barts..."

"...So I could get my wife to speak to me once again, yes." Sherlock casually turned the page of his paper.

Molly came out of the bedroom, wearing Sherlock's blue dressing gown and wearing his deerstalker. Sherlock glanced up at the hat on Molly's head. "I believe I am finally gaining an appreciation for that damnable thing."

"Hoo-hoo." There was a knock at the door and Mrs Hudson bustled in. "Oh good. There you kids are. I was starting to get worried."

"Worried?" John repeated, sipping his tea.

"I haven't seen Sherlock or Molly all weekend," Mrs Hudson replied. "They'd left a note on the door that they were working on that Jones case. Sounds like a real tricky one."

John choked on his tea, while Sherlock smirked behind his newspaper.

As he walked along with Sherlock to interview a witness in their latest case, John decided he couldn't hold things in any longer. He stopped dead in his tracks. "All right, Sherlock... I think you have a problem."

Sherlock stopped and turned back to John, blinking. "Right now, my problem is that my partner is not following along with me to go question the witness."

"No," John replied firmly. "You have a problem. You have an addiction."

Sherlock cocked his head slightly. "John, it is well documented that I have several addictions. However, all of them are under control at the present moment."

John shook his head. "Oh no they're not. There's a new one. One you are blatantly ignoring."

Sherlock rolled his eyes. "John, will you please just get on with it? There's a witness to interview. Murder and all."

"The Jones Case!" John exclaimed. "You're obsessed with it! It's unnatural! I know it's all new and exciting for you, but... My God. You really have to cut down."

Sherlock frowned. "Just a few months ago, you were lecturing me for neglecting Molly due to my work. Now you believe I am doing the opposite. I would appreciate if you would make up your mind, John."

John sighed. "Sherlock, I'm really glad you and Molly are happy. Really and truly am. But you're leaving work. You've 'investigated'," he did sarcastic air-quotes, "At a crime scene. You have to get yourself under control."

Sherlock took a deep breath and nodded. "You're right, John. I am being entirely unreasonable. It is not as if I just married only about a month ago and did not go on one of those insipid honeymoons, but rather returned to work immediately. I also do get paid obscene amounts of money by Scotland Yard." He gave John a withering glare.

John scowled. "Fine. But do you have to be so obvious about it?"

Sherlock turned on his heels and strode down the street. "Hang in there, John. I'm sure Mary will become affectionate again once she is no longer under the stress of planning the wedding."

Greg Lestrade looked out onto the sea of reporters eagerly asking questions about the closing of their latest case.

One of the reporters held up her hand. Greg pointed to her. "Yes?"

"Are there any further developments on the Jones case?" She asked. "John Watson has only referred to it obliquely in his blog, but has not offered up any further details."

Greg was gripped with the urge to cradle his face in his hands. Bloody Sherlock Holmes. And bloody Molly Holmes as well. She was just as culpable. He managed to keep himself composed, smiling tightly. "I don't have any details on the Jones case at all. It's a private case taken on by Sherlock Holmes." He looked around the room. "I assure you that the public has nothing to worry about."

Unless the massive amounts of 'private investigation' resulted in pregnancy. The idea of Sherlock Holmes breeding was something to worry all. Even the sweet disposition of Molly Hooper would be unable to help that kid.

John strode down the corridor away from the morgue just as Greg approached. He held up a hand. "You don't want to go down there."

Greg gave in to his impulse this time, cradling his head in his hands. "You must be joking me. In the bloody morgue? Do they have absolutely no self-control? Decency? Common sense?"

John shrugged. "It's Sherlock."

Greg shook his head and leaned against the wall. "Yeah, but you think Molly might temper that a bit. My God, they're animals."

"They need to just stop. Just... Stop. It's not right. It's..." John shook his head savagely. "It just can't go on. We have to do something." He sighed. "But what?"

"Inspector?" Anderson rushed down the corridor. "We've finished the analysis. If you'd like to..."

Greg's eyes brightened when he set his gaze on Anderson. "Why don't you go into the morgue and show it to Holmes? He's been aching to see it."

Anderson scowled. "Inspector..."

Greg jerked his head towards the morgue. "Go on then. He's just working on the Jones Case."

Molly allowed Sherlock to grab her by the waist and lift her up onto the edge of the examination table that had thankfully been sterilized. She hungrily kissed him while fumbling with the buttons of his much too tight purple shirt.

"Can you leave your lab coat on?" Sherlock asked, panting as he raked his gaze over Molly.

Molly smiled and her cheeks flushed slightly. "Sherlock, that sounds a bit pervy."

"We are in a morgue." Sherlock leaned in and sucked at the juncture of Molly's neck and shoulder, the low scoop of her neckline allow him full access. "I think we have well passed the point of no return in terms of kink, Doctor Holmes."

Molly hooked a leg around Sherlock's waist and pulled him in. "I like when you call me that."

"I had noticed that," Sherlock grinned. "That's why I keep doing it when I wish to be amorous."

He dove in again for another kiss when he heard the doors of the morgue bang open. He pulled back from Molly quickly, though not quickly enough to completely disentangle himself.

"My God, what's going on?" Anderson demanded.

Sherlock did not miss a beat. "...they were positioned like so and the shot went over Mrs Jones's shoulder and struck her lover here..." He pressed two fingers to his forehead. "Which means the shot had to have come from the top of the stairs rather than the bottom. Thank you, Molly. You have been most helpful." He managed to pull himself away from Molly and turned himself around to face Anderson. "Anderson, what do you have for me?"

Anderson held up several file folders. "Lestrade told me to give these to you. They're for the Keene Case."

"Keene Case?" Sherlock scowled. "But I'm not working on the-" His expression darkened and he held out his hand. "Yes. Of course." He snatched the files away. "Run along Anderson. I can handle it from here."

Anderson glowered at Sherlock. "Lestrade's with Watson when you're finished."

"Of course he's with John," Sherlock growled. He gave Anderson a withering look. His piercing gaze- and Anderson's deep incompetence- no doubt kept Anderson from noticing his shirt was still unbuttoned. "Really, Anderson... Run along. Now."

Once Anderson left the morgue, Sherlock sat down on the examination table along with Molly. He looked over at her, fully expecting to see her a deep crimson and utterly mortified.

Instead, he saw utter fury on his wife's normally smiling face. "It seems Lestrade and John wish to teach us a lesson in discretion."

Molly scowled. "I want to destroy them."

Sherlock arched a brow. "Perhaps I was not too off on my serial killer analysis of you... I like this."

Molly smiled up at Sherlock. "You did say you wanted me to be the best I could be."

Sherlock smiled back at her. "Doctor Holmes... Together we'll be unstoppable." He leaned in. "But first things first."

Molly blinked. "What?"

Sherlock brushed his lips against hers. "I've found a new lead."