Permanent Destination

A/N: Hello! SO I just stared watching Sherlock like two weeks ago and I freaking LOVE it and for a couple of days now I've been wanting to write a Molliarty fic, and I had like three different story ideas, and I decided to go with this one because the other two were a lot more serious and this one has a lot more humor in it (well at least that's what I'm aiming for).

Anyway, this is my first Sherlock fic so if anyone seems OOC then I'm really sorry.

GAHH I'm so excited to write this! Happy dance!

Okay enough of that, onto the story. I hope you like it!

Chapter 1 - Moriarty's Mistake

Once upon a time there was a girl named Molly Hooper. She was a fairly normal girl. Owned a cat named Toby, whom she was very fond of. Liked the color pink. Worked in a morgue at St. Bartholomew's Hospital as a specialist registrar (I guess that part isn't really normal, but, ya know, whatevs). ANYWAY the point is she was a perfectly normal perfect nice girl (with a couple of crazy friends...and psycho ex-boyfriends) who lead a perfectly normal life (thus far).

Ahem. Then there was a guy named Jim. Jim Moriarty. He WASN'T actually that normal. No, he wasn't anywhere NEAR normal. Like, at all. In fact, he was an insane psychopath. The exact insane psychopath that happened to be Molly's ex-boyfriend. He worked as a consulting criminal and he kidnapped and killed people and blew stuff up and basically he was an all-around jerk of the week. Plus he was kinda creepy. And weird.

These two people, Molly and Jim, Jim and Molly, were the two most different people who could ever have the misfortune of meeting. Molly was good. Jim was bad. Molly was light, Jim was dark. Molly was a smile, Jim was a smirk. Molly was friendly, Jim was freaky. And yet, fate played its little strings and struck it's chord, forcing them to meet and get to know each other. (Jim may have had something to do with that BUT he had no idea of the consequences.)

No, he had little idea of what would be happening in the future when he devised his little plan of using Molly Hooper to get to Sherlock Holmes.

He had no idea he would be falling in love with her.

And falling, as Jim Moriarty clearly knew, was just like flying, but with a more permanent destination.

And falling in love, was also like flying, but the permanent destination for Moriarty just so happened to be a person who also worked with dead people.

The room was silent.

Greg Lestrade stood at the door of Sherlock's flat in 211b Baker Street, staring at the faces of Sherlock, John, Mary, Molly, Mrs. Hudson, and Sally Donovan. The air was heavy of awkward tension. Everyone was standing up. Donovan had her arms crossed, glancing at Lestrade and then eyeing Sherlock suspiciously. Molly was staring at the ground. Mary and John were looking at each other worriedly. Sherlock had his hands clasped together, holding them to his nose in deep thought.

Mrs. Hudson piped up.

"Anyone fancy a cup of tea? Anyone? No?"

Nobody answered. Somebody coughed.

"Alright then, I'll just go make some."

She scurried off into the kitchen, leaving the six in their uncomfortable silence.

Lestrade cleared his throat.

"So... you all know why I'm here. No need in hiding it. I mine as well get to the point."

Sherlock's eyes snapped open.

"Moriarty is back and you want me to find him. Obviously."

Everyone cringed at the mention of the supposedly-dead consulting criminal. Lestrade suppressed a sigh and looked up at Sherlock, nodding his head. He opened his mouth to reply but Sherlock cut him off.

"You also want to put a personal security detail on Molly to ensure her safety because you're concerned Moriarty will go after her."

Everyone looked up at him when he said this, surprised at this piece of information. Molly stared at him, trying to keep her face as calm as she could but Sherlock could see fear in her eyes. Not as much as he would have expected, but still, it was there. A speck of uncertainty at what might happen to her in the future.

The attention was back on Lestrade as he replied, his voice raised in anger, "Well of COURSE I want to put a PSD on her now I now this lunatic is back! Wouldn't you? She's not safe!"

"Greg, it's fine, I'm actually-" Molly began, but her voice was quickly distinguished by Sherlock's next interruption.

"It's likely that Moriarty will want to know how I survived and when he finds out that Molly was the one who helped me then he'll want to fix his mistake."

"Fix his mistake?" John asked, curling his eyebrows in confusion.

"Yes. If it wasn't for Molly and my network of homeless people, Moriarty would have succeeded and I would have died on the rooftop of St. Bartholomew's Hospital." He pursed his lips. "Er, I would have died on the ground NEXT to the building of St. Bartho-"

"Yes, yes, you would have been a nice flat pancake," Mary said quickly, annoyed at his Sherlock-y-ness. "But how is that his mistake?"

"Moriarty had three snipers, three guns aimed at John, Lestrade, and Mrs. Hudson. What he didn't account for was Molly. If he had realized that Molly was important to me, he would have had a gun on her too and it would've all been over. But he didn't. He miscalculated. He forgot about her. It was his mistake."

This shut everyone up. From the kitchen they heard Mrs. Hudson drop a glass of tea on the floor.

Sherlock looked at Molly. She was staring at the floor again, letting it all sink in. He could see her face change from surprise to understanding. She looked up at Sherlock, her face unreadable for a split second.

"So you're telling me that Moriarty is for sure going to go after Molly?" Lestrade asked, breaking the silence.

Sherlock looked up. "I believe that it will definitely be an option that he will consider. Whether or not he'll act upon it, that's up to him. BUT I do believe it's a good idea to give Molly a security detail just in case I'm not there to protect her for some unknown reason."

"I absolutely agree!" Mrs. Hudson said, appearing in the living room, crossing her arms furiously with a broken tea cup in her left hand.

"Mrs. Hudson, our tea?" Sherlock demanded rudely.

"Oh! Right!" She left immediately.

John glared at Sherlock and Mary rolled her eyes.

"Right, then," Lestrade announced. "Then it's settled-"

"No, it's not." Molly said loudly, speaking up and making everyone turn to look at her. "Shouldn't I have a say on my own security detail, without everyone else deciding everything for me?"

Lestrade opened his mouth and then closed it. Sherlock blinked. Mary nodded her head proudly, probably thinking something like "Atta' girl!"

Donovan spoke up, "All due respect, Miss Hooper, but if there's a crazed psychopath out there planning on 'fixing his mistake', then by all means there's nothing you can do to stop the police from protecting you from him."

"Key word: if. And I'm perfectly capable of protecting myself, thanks." Molly said, placing her hands on her hips. "Oh, and there actually is something I can do to stop you from doing everything you think you can do without any consent: saying no thank you."

John raised his eyebrows in shock, his lips curling in a smile. He was impressed at Molly's choice of words and her amount of courage at standing up for herself. Mary was practically beaming with pride (for, by the way, a girl she barely knew). John shrugged that part off, figuring it was pregnant-woman-girly stuff he would never understood.

And would never want to understand.

Lestrade cleared his throat again. "Of course, Molly, if you don't want police protection then we won't force it on you."

Molly nodded at him and smiled kindly. "Thank you Greg. I'm sorry it's just I..." she trailed off, staring at her feet.

Just then Mrs. Hudson rushed in with the tea. Lestrade, Mary, and John all took a cup gratefully. She tried to offer one to Molly, who was in obvious distress, but the younger girl refused.

Molly sighed.

"I just feel like if he does come after me, it'll be something I'll have to eventually face. It's inevitable. I can't be protected... I can't hide from him forever."

There were nods of agreements, and sounds of sympathy (mostly from Mrs. Hudson, who again dropped a cup of tea and then ran to the kitchen in frustration, cursing loudly) and after a few more minutes of talking and then saying goodbye, Lestrade and Donovan left. Mary and Molly sat down, and Sherlock closed his eyes to think.

"Are you feeling okay?" Mary asked Molly, her face concerned.

Molly nodded her head, smiling shyly. "Oh I'm fine. I just got a bit sassy for a minute there when I didn't mean to. It was kind of fun."

Mary laughed and John smiled, causing Molly to smile genuinely.

Sherlock popped an eye open in annoyance.

"Don't know WHY everyone's in a good mood when there's a psychotic murder on the loose."

That pretty much killed the mood, and everyone stopped smiling.

John squinted at his taller companion. "Why do you have to go and do that? Every time? You ruin the mood, Sherlock."

"Just being logical." Sherlock muttered, both eyes closed again.

"Logical? Yeah, well, sometimes it's okay to have a bit of humor in the midst of a crisis." John replied, and while they started to bicker, and Sherlock randomly complained that he never got any tea and demanded Mrs. Hudson make him some more ("Not your housekeeper!"), Mary rolled her eyes and turned back to the morgue specialist registrar.

"So," she began, careful not to tread too deep on shallow waters. She liked Molly and she could tell that this girl was a quiet, personal type that liked keeping her secrets and feelings locked up. But she wanted to know what was going on inside her head. She felt that Molly was keeping something from them. That there was more to her feelings on the situation than meets the eye.

"Are you scared?"

Molly thought about it for a second. She didn't really need to, she already knew her answer. She looked up at Mary and gave her answer.

"Not really. For some reason I'm a lot less scared then I know I should be."

Mary nodded her head. There it is. That's what she was keeping from them.

"You dated the most dangerous man in England, probably the entire world, and he lied to you and used you to get close to Sherlock. Now he's coming back for you. And you're not scared?" Mary asked, admittedly a bit shocked, but also not really surprised at the same time. Molly had been calm throughout the entire time, and she seemed so calm even now.

The girl shrugged. "I feel as tho I never knew him when he was dangerous, which is true, and so I don't really know the full extent of what he's capable of. I mean I know what he's capable of- I know what he's done- but what I'm trying to say is that-"

"You've been with him when he was perfectly normal so that's the version of him that's stuck inside your head?" Mary suggested.

"Almost. I know what it's like to be with him- not the real him, obviously- but there's still a man underneath all that psychotic behavior somewhere and I feel that when he confronts me, which I know he will, I can't avoid it... I feel like he'll act a man."

Mary stared at her and then stared down, taking this into deep thought.

"Does that make any sense? Oh my gosh I'm a lunatic!" Molly cried, and Mary laughed and shook her head, making Molly smile and laugh as well.

"No, of course you're not a lunatic! I understand what you're trying to say. I think..."

The two girls looked at each other and then laughed again, earning the attention of John and Sherlock.

"Sounds like you two are getting along quite fine." John said, smiling down at the ladies.

"Yes! And you know what? I just had the absolutely perfect idea in my mind just now." Mary said excitedly, and John put his hand on her shoulder and asked,

"And what's that?"

"The four of us on a lunch date!"

Sherlock, who at up to this point had been faintly smiling due to Mary's adorable excitedness, frowned instantly.

As did Molly.

They both looked at each other. And then quickly looked away.

John almost facepalmed.

"Come on you two! It would be so lovely, just the four of us, somewhere nice and not too out of the way."

Molly cleared her throat and then smiled brightly. "Well it sounds delightful. I'd love to."

They all looked at Sherlock, awaiting the final answer.

He looked at all of them.

"Er, sorry, can't make it, far too many cases, so little time, not enough money, boring excuses like that I'm afraid."

"Too many cases?" John demanded.

"Yes! I need to locate a consulting criminal, if you don't mind me, and that leaves me absolutely no time for lunch."

"No lunch? Every day this week?" Mary asked, eyeing him.

"And next week." Sherlock said quickly. As an afterthought he added, "Actually I'm skipping lunch this entire month. Taking it out of the hard drive for a while. I needed some extra room."

As they continued talking (and then fighting) about it, they eventually got Sherlock to agree on one short lunch date for the four of them. After that Molly went home, and then Mary and John.

The whole walk home (as Molly didn't live that far away from Sherlock), she couldn't help but feel she was being watched. She felt that a pair of eyes were on her the entire walk home, and even when she turned around (only once) to make sure she was alone, she concluded that the sidewalk was empty except for her. And yet she still felt a pair of eyes watching her.

When she arrived home (hang up coat, feed the cat, pick up living room), and after she went to bed she no longer felt like she was being watched. She turned off her lamp and went to bed.

But outside on the street, staring at her window through dark sunglasses, was the man who made the mistake. The move that had cost him everything. His entire life.

Jim Moriarty. The King; the world's only consulting criminal. He smirked to himself, thinking what he thought would bring him his perfect satisfaction. Killing the girl who ruined everything.

But Jim Moriarty had no idea what was in store for him; sometimes he neglected to listen to his own advice. Because falling is JUST like flying. But with a more permanent destination.

And Molly Hooper was Moriarty's permanent destination.