A DANCE IN THE DARK

Authors note; So, I've never tried to write a sherlock holmes fiction before, so I have no idea what the heck I'm doing.. He might become a bit OCC, just a heads up.. He's a complex character and to those who managed to write him down as he his, Kudos! You're amazing! Also, I'm not a native speaker, so if you do find errors, please let me know!

PROLOG

One

Two

Three

She counted the seconds slowly and carefully inside her head, and then over again. One, two, three. Swift and fast she made the cuts with an exact precision. Her teachers would have been proud if they saw her now. Confident and all, not some kind of small tiny, scared mouse who always did what other told her. They didn't know back then, what was hidden behind dark eyes and sweet smiles. One, two, three. Another one, quickly and with more pressure this time, she let her hands do what they did best. She looked down and smiled at the scalpel in her hand, maybe this was actually really working.

She glanced at the clock again, watching the seconds tick away. Still barely two. She would have to get ready soon. Tuck away her white lab coat and change into her other cloths, refresh her make up again, lipstick and then the hair. This wasn't for him, she reminded herself. Not at all.

She glanced down at the mid thirty year old man that was lying in front of her. He had been handsome , she could tell, before he dropped dead for whatever reason, but she could still imagine the smile that he must have worn. Probably a charming one, the kind that would have a lot of woman trouble thinking straight. She sighted at the thought of her nonexistent of a love life. At least the dead paid her the respect she deserved, not unlike someone else that she would keep unmentioned.

Beep, beep, you've got a new message.

Remember, police station at 3
– Lestrade

She snorted at the text. As if she could possibly forget? She looked at the clock again, a quarter to three. Better get ready then, she thought and sighted. The gloves landed in the bin quickly, she would have to finish the autopsy with the nice gentleman later. The morgue was left with hasty and hurried steps, up and across the lab, to her own office. Quick brush through her hair, she managed to take a shaking breath in between. She would do this, she could. There was nothing that could possibly go wrong. A quick visit to the station and then this would all be over. Once and for all, and the perhaps she would finally be able forget herself.

"Molly" Someone called out to her but she barely registered the voice. It was familiar her brain told her, but there wasn't time for that, not today. Letting the voices fade away she managed to make her way to the elevator.

Simple she thought as she passed through the door to Bart's. Cab, yes. Breath, breath she reminded herself as she crossed the street. Breathing was good, it was perhaps the only thing keeping her together by the last few strings she had.

But then he came, out from the shadows, in his black long coat that she had almost forgotten all about. He grinned the second he saw her and she could see him striding with those long legs, towards her. Quickly and smoothly, like a hunter walking towards his pray.

She hadn't forgotten that at least, the smile of a monster. Knowing that it was probably useless, her legs made a run for it, but it could only get her so far. He came from behind as fast as ever, a firm and tight grip on her throat. She was caught, the hunter and the hunted. The small white innocent rabbit.

"Oh no you don't" He growled and as if she was just a tiny feather, he lifted and dragged her away from the people and the lights and into the darkness, into the tunnel's and ally where none would hear her scream.

Lestrade was tapping is foot in annoyance as he waited with a growing impatience. His arms were crossed and the usually kind grin was just a thin line of lips. He wasn't happy, at all. It was never like Molly Hooper to be late, especially not considering what day today was. He looked down at his watch, 3.10. Late, how could she be late?

A pair of footsteps came up behind him and with relief he turned around. "Molly, finally! I was beginning to wonder what was taking you so long" But it wasn't Molly who was standing in front of him. The figure of Sherlock Holmes was glaring at him with his usual cold eyes that he seems to save up for those stupid, average humans.

"Lestrade, have you perhaps gone completely deaf since the last time I saw you? He raised an eyebrow.

"Sorry Sherlock, was expecting someone else"

"Well clearly" He muttered sourly.

He turned around to glance at Sherlock again. "What are you doing here anyway? As far as I am concerned we haven't called you in for a, consult. "

"Don't worry; I'll soon be out of your hair. Just came from Bart's to finish up a case."

Lestrade froze at the words that left Sherlock's mouth. "Bart's?" That gut feeling in his stomach was back again. Like he had drunken something cold, and it was turning the inside of him to a tumult."You didn't happen to see Molly there did you?" Please say yes, his gut begged him. He swallowed away the cold lump in his throat. It meant nothing.

"Well, yes I did actually, but she ignored me, which is strange, but then again, she has been doing awfully a lot lately. Saw her leave about the same time I did" He shrugged, already looking bored and impatient to get out and onto bigger and better cases then stand here. "Why do you ask?"

"Nothing" Lestrade waved off. "I guess..i..must have just simply..missed her" he muttered and without excusing himself, he left with fast and quick footsteps towards his office. Halfway through the building his phone beeped loudly.

You didn't really thing you would catch me that easy Lestrade, did you? That she would take one look, and then you would have had be in chains, like the monster you claim I am. I mean, come on, do you really think I'm THAT stupid?

Too bad that sweet Molly is the one who will pay the price for your mistake…. But then again, it was her's to begin with, to be so naïve and to believe that she would escape me. I gave her a promise and it's a promise I tend to keep. To death do us apart, or how was it again?

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