Molly. Dearest Molly,

You once said that you don't matter. I dare say you do. I can't seem to get you out of my head. Everyone seems to underestimate you, but I don't. You are the strong independent woman who managed to steal my heart. I know I lied to you by being Jim from I.T, but the truth is, I was slowly falling in love with you. You throw yourself at Sherlock, but he will never truly appreciate your talents. I've done things, horrible things. Both to you, and the world.

I don't expect you to forgive me. Even if you did, I know I wouldn't deserve it. To the world, I'm Moriarty, but when I'm with you I'm just Jim.I just wrote this to tell you that I really love you, and I would give everything up to have just one more chance with you. You have my number. Please give me an answer, even if it's a simple no.

With deepest love,

Jim

Molly gasped at the, admittedly well-written, note, which was left on her desk in the morgue. She was worried that it was a ploy, but when Sherlock barged in, she hid it under the files that she was working on that day, much to her surprise.

"I need a tibula in perfect condition. I'm doing an experiment to see how many hits it can take from a metal-edged ruler before it fractures. It's for an important case." Sherlock demanded in his usual rapid-fire way. Molly sighed. At least Sherlock didn't see the note. She was battling to decide whether or not she should tell him about it.

"Molly, is something wrong?" Sherlock asked, after receiving the requested bone. He looked at her with genuine concern. She was trembling slightly, like after she found out that Moriarty was her "gay" ex-boyfriend. "You look like you've had a scare." He was struggling to keep himself from deducing her, as he knew she hated it.

"Oh, I'm okay. It's just… I should probably just go home. I'm not feeling well. I'll just go home, take some medicine, and cuddle with my cat." She said, noticing her own shaking.

"Do you want me to walk you home?" He asked,walking behind her and placing his hand on her shoulder. He really didn't think that she should be alone with such jittery nerves.

"No thanks, I'm good." Molly stated, giving a little jump at the unexpected contact. Sherlock noted this, but didn't comment on it. "I'm just still tired from last night. So, instead of walking, I'll just take a cab."

"At least let me escort you to the cab. It'll be a while until John comes and picks me up." Sherlock grabbed his Belstaff jacket, stuck the leg bone inside, and handed Molly her jumper in exchange for her labcoat.

Molly followed him outside, and strode close by as he expertly whistled for a cab. The cabbie stopped and Sherlock ushered her in with a hug and a kiss to the top of her head. Arriving home, she rushed to her room and unlocked the door. "Toby, I'm home." she called. Toby didn't seem to like it when she showed up unannounced. She hung up her coat and walked into her living room/kitchenette. Dropping her bag and medicine in horror, she gasped at the unexpected visitor to her house.

"Hey, Molls. I missed you so much."