Just a little one-shot on the relationship between Molly and Jim. I like this one. I also like reviews. ;3

"Hey," Molly said, bringing over the coffee and handing Jim's carefully. He did not look away from the window, and carried on observing the chilly December afternoon in Oxford Street. People were finishing off their Christmas shopping, pushing and shoving to get to their destinations. Little children looked bored and exhausted and the adults were desperate to win what they wanted.

Jim wanted to win, too. He wanted to win the game.

The silence lasted between the two for a while until Molly finally piped up. "They're letting me stay on holiday a little longer," she said, trying to lighten the mood. "I've been doing a lot of work recently."

Jim tore his eyes away from the setting outside and picked up his coffee, sipping it cautiously and looking at Molly with hidden uncertainty. "That's great, Mol," he said. The coffee was sugary and sweet. Jim wasn't sure if he liked that, but he took another sip anyway.

More silence. Molly tried to think of something to say, but everything she thought of just didn't sound right, not in this situation. She wasn't even sure what 'this situation' meant. She wanted to ask him if he was okay, because he was distant, faraway, and that just wasn't Jim.

Molly sighed, ripping open the sugar packet, spilling some of the content onto the table. "Crap," she murmured as she poured what was left of the sugar into the coffee and stirred it slowly, watching the liquid spin in the cup. She kept on stirring, not stopping even though she knew it was enough, stirring, stirring, stirring…

"Jim?"

The dark eyed man looked up, straight into Molly's eyes, his eyebrows raised. "Hm?"

"Are… are you okay?"

Jim shrugged, and it was plain to see he was thinking about the words he wanted to say. "There are a lot of idiots out there in the world."

Molly frowned. "What… what do you mean?"

"Don't you have those moments where everybody around you is just so thick? You… you almost want to kill them all for just existing?"

It was odd, because it was one of those moments where Molly had literally no idea what to say in response to Jim's frustration. She'd never really thought about other people – she was careful not to trod onto the wrong side of those. Molly Hooper minded her own business, and it had been like that for years. It was only today that she hated to see Jim like this – almost, well, broken.

Jim was funny, sweet, sarcastic.

Not silent, strange, thoughtful.

"Jim," she said, shuffling in her seat uncomfortably. "I don't like to ask this, because it's a little rude, but who are you, really?"

There was a look of genuine surprise on Jim's face, and he placed the cup he was holding down onto the table. He didn't say anything for that moment – he was thinking about what he had just been asked, as if no one had ever seen past his disguise – until finally a small, lopsided smile crept up on his face.

"And why do you question that?"

"Because… because whenever I ask you something about yourself, it just never seems honest. Oh god. Sorry." Molly stood up, picking up her bag and blushing furiously. "Sorry. I'm being stupid. See you –"

Before she could finish, however, Jim's hand reached out, took Molly's arm gently and pulled her down back into her seat. The smile was still sitting upon his lips and as she sat back down again, he let go of her arm slowly. "Stay," he said. Commanded.

More silence sat between them as their eyes locked with one another. Eventually Molly regained her composure and continued. "I've always been good at detecting lies," she said quietly. "Every person I meet I can tell whether they're lying or not. You're not any different. It's your eyes, it's always the eyes. I thought maybe it was just me, I don't know, I'm usually silly, but…" Pause. "It took a while for me to notice it, but the more we got to know each other the more I wasn't convinced. And it started to irritate me, like I couldn't get it out of my head. Did you lie? Or am I crazy?"

"You're impressive," he muttered. "You're one of the only people…" he stopped, and then started to chuckle. "You even beat Sherlock Holmes."

I'm not crazy, Molly thought.

"Why?" She asked. "Why did you lie?"

Jim didn't answer, the smile growing just a little bit bigger. Find out for yourself, his dark yet hypnotic eyes responded instead, and left Molly with only one more question to ask her boyfriend.

"Is your name really Jim Addison?"

"No," he answered, "but that's a story for another day." And Jim Moriarty stood up, scooping up his coat, kissed Molly on the forehead and walked out of the coffee shop that chilly December afternoon.