Author Note: This is my first time for writing a Sherlock FF. I hope to keep the characters as close to there personality as they are in the show but there will be a little change in some of them do to stuff that happens in the story. I owe a lot to my Friend Justice. She has taken a lot of time to correct with red pen and find my errors. I will miss her dearly when she moves. So have fun and read. I like positive and building criticism for reviews. Also I need help on plot line ideas. I know what I want to do but ideas of what you want would be nice. ~love Mels.

Disclaimer: Lets just say I don't own Sherlock and if i ever did... well it would be hell.

He watched John -who was frustrated and rather pissed at the fact that Sherlock could be so selfish at a time like this- leave the morgue. Mrs. Hudson had supposedly been "shot", and Sherlock didn't seem to care at all.

He really did care, it was just that he knew Mrs. Hudson was fine; just another trick from Moriarty to John to distract him.

After John left, Sherlock's phone went off. Pulling the slim black phone out of his pocket, he unlocked the text.

Im Waiting… JM

Putting the phone back in his pocket, Sherlock sat up in his seat.

"Molly?" He Whispered.

There was a small rustling noise from the supplies closet, and out stepped Molly Hooper; the Pathologist. She had been hiding in there all day waiting for John to leave.

"Oh my god, will Mrs. Hudson be ok?" Fear flashed across her face

Sherlock stood from his seat. "It was just a trick to distract John. She's fine." He took a deep breath. "We don't have much time Molly. Everything should be in place…" He trailed off; running his fingers through is hair worriedly.

"Sherlock…" Molly was hesitant. Her green eyes scanning his face.

He was afraid.

She had never seen him afraid before. He just never seemed like one to have anything to fear; until Moriarty.

He could play with anyone's mind-trick them; peruse them using there biggest fears.

Molly crossed the room towards Sherlock; puling a small round object out of her lab coat pocket. A bouncy ball. The one Sherlock had been using earlier. She grabbed his hand, put the ball in it, and wrapped hid fingers around it. Tears started to fill her eyes, and make them turn a lighter shade of brown and swirl with color.

"Good luck…" She started to walk past Sherlock to the door, when he grabbed her by the wrist and turned her around.

Tears filled his own eyes. Her eyes look so beautiful when she cries, he thought. And this innocent women was rising herself for him, even after he always treated her so horribly. 'You always say such horrible things. Always… always…' The words she had spoken during christmas swirled around in his head. He could at least b entice to her once before he ran of to his death.

"Molly." He watched her eyes swirl with more emotion. "Thank you so much. I-I am so sorry for the way I've treated you. I never meant to hurt you. Yet, here you are; risking yourself for me." He bent down and kissed her on the cheek; then pulled her into a hug. "Thank you Molly Hooper."

With that, Sherlock hurried out of the room; black coat swishing behind him.

Had Sherlock Holmes really just been nice to her? Thanked her, not once but twice? Said sorry to her? Hugged her? And kissed her on the cheek? Taking a deep breath, Molly set up the morgue for the after match of what was just about to happen. Praying everything went according to plan.

~*SH*~

He had figured it all out- or most of it anyways.

Here he stood, on the edge of St. Bartholomew's roof top; ready to jump.

His heart pounded in his chest from fear, and his head was swimming from the drug he had taken earlier to help him fake his death. The drug would slow down his breathing and make look like it stopped altogether; it would also keep him out cold for long enough to trick the paramedics. Then he would be put into Molly's hands.

He thought he had figured it. The dead mad on the roof behind him, supposedly was Moriarty, was truly not Moriarty; he was just an actor. Meaning Moriarty is still out there.

He could tell this by the way the manhood recently just acted. The tight had shake saying "i'm sorry", and "Help me". The fear and sadness in the man's eyes, knowing this was his end. He either had to shoot himself, or he would be shot by another one of Moriarty's employees. Not even the best actor in the world could portray so much fear and sadness, just by will.

The fairytales- The Grimm's fairytales. He still could not determine what those had to do with anything. Maybe they were just there to trick Sherlock. Unfinished work- no -Moriarty wouldn't leave unfinished business. There had to be a connection… but what/

His vision went blurry. The drug was almost to full effect. He was going to black out. And there was John. Getting out out of the cab.

Using the phone one last time to call John, he left a note.

A suicide note.

He threw the phone aside; letting the screen shatter and crack …

…And he jumped.

~*SH*~

Molly watched out the window, her heart pounding. She could feel it in her chest, wrist, and neck. The fast and unsteady bum bum bum, bum bum bum. She had heard a gun be fired off, but she now watched as John; staring up at the roof. If Sherlock had been shot, wouldn't he have ran up there? That means he's fine right? Everything is going to plan?

She heard John yell Sherlock's name, and ran towards the building.

In the next second, a flash of dark wool coat, and flailing man passed the window.

Grabbing the bottle of clear liquid of her desk, Molly booked it down to the lobby; whispering the same words over and over again.

Please don't be dead Sherlock Holmes. Please tell me your bloody plan has and will continue to work.

~*SH*~

Once he hit the ground, he rolled to his side and stuck the bouncy ball he under his arm that was stuck under him. It would cut off any circulation and pulse to his wrist.

Just before he blacked out completely, he saw a blurry John run towards him, and another man on a bike.

Just on Que. He thought.

Like Moriaty, Sherlock had people who were willing to help distract, trick, fake, and delay. And so does Molly. But she doesn't know that yet.

Then he blacked out.