A/N: Trigger warning. This story will deal with abuse (mental, physical, emotional, sexual). I read a few fics that seemed to be a bit over the top and psychologically off when trying to capture the thoughts and actions of both the abused and abuser. This is my attempt to put my spin on it. While I've never been a victim of domestic violence, nor have I written on it before, I've read and heard the stories and have seen the facts and statistics, though, so I'll do my best to be true to how something like this comes about. Every situation is different, of course, but hopefully this one will be believable. If a tad bit dramatized, because what in Sherlock isn't?

In addition to this, I should also point out that this is my first Sherlock fic. I'll be doing my best to keep everyone in character, but feel free to give criticism if you think something is off. This'll be mostly in Molly's pov with hints of Sherolly sprinkled in, but not much. Not until the end, anyway (Maybe). But this is not a Sherolly fic. It's a Molly-centric fic. And is basically just me experimenting with her character. (Warstan will also be present, of course).

Right. And without further adieu, on to the story!

Chapter One. A Charming Knight.

When Molly met him, he had been her saving grace.

The night started out great. A couple of the single ladies from the hospital had invited her to a night out on the town... and while she usually spent her free time contently curled up on the couch watching something on Netflix with Toby, she didn't mind human interaction every now and then, and so she'd agreed to go.

Jenny, a nurse from ER, and Liz from the Pharmacy had dragged her into the bathroom to get her all "dolled up" despite her best protesting that she thought what she was wearing was fine. The end result, she had to admit, was impressive. They'd freed her hair from it's ponytail, tossing it over one shoulder to show off a bit of her neck. Combining their makeup together (because Molly rarely carried any herself), they'd been able to find the right shades for her skin tone and had given her a softer version of the smoky eye evening look. And as embarrassing as it was, they had also made her lose her sweater, pop the first few buttons of her shirt (thankfully she'd worn a camisole), and hike her skirt up an inch or two above her knees.

She didn't feel much like herself when she looked in the mirror, but she did feel good... if a bit apprehensive. Truly, unlike the rest of the group, she didn't agree to the outing to meet any men. After Tom and the terrible realization that she was not even a little close to having gotten over her one-sided feelings for Sherlock, Molly had decided that she'd take a break from dating. Maybe deal with herself first before she tried to bring someone else into her life. (Months later she was still making the same excuses, but nevermind). All that said, she had let the girls have their fun making her over anyway. Not that they would have taken no for an answer.

The club itself was fun. The great thing about going out with a bunch of single women was that you were all in the same boat. The first 45 minutes or so, they'd all taken turns talking about their exs and really just men in general as they got tipsy off their own individual alcohol of choice. Never having been a big drinker, Molly had still been nursing her first glass of gin and tonic as the other girls were already starting to slur. Eventually, the topic of dancing had come up and, while she'd also never been much of a dancer (her moves were just as awkward as her personality), they somehow convinced her to hit the floor with them. Despite being out of her element, she still found herself having a really good time.

It was about a little more than an hour in when things began to get a little too much for her. The others seemed to take kindly to a group of guys that wanted to dance a bit dirty but, having never been comfortable with anything like that Molly had tried to leave the dance floor to let them all have their fun without her. She didn't mind if they wanted to keep going, but her feet had been starting to kill her and she needed to sit down.

The problem with that though, was that the groups had been even in numbers, and the guy who had gotten stuck with her didn't seem to want to let her leave. Not because he actually wanted to dance with her, mind you, but because he didn't want to be the odd man out. Molly had tried to be polite about it, but he didn't seem to want to listen. She had to practically pry his arms from around her waist as she twisted away from a very uncomfortable grind.

"What the hell is your problem?" He'd asked over the music, grabbing her wrist before she could put distance between them.

"N-nothing, I just don't feel comfortable dancing like that," she told him, frowning at herself for stuttering. She knew at times like this it was best to be assertive, but that was something she had always struggled with being. Especially being caught off guard in front of someone she didn't know.

"Come on. Don't be such a bloody prude," he pressured, trying to tug her back into his embrace before anyone noticed their struggle.

She resisted. "Let me go, please," she'd said a bit firmer, alarmed at his tight hold on her. Warning bells were going off in her head, and her eyes darted behind him to try and see if she could find her co-workers. She saw them, but they were too far away to witness the exchange without her yelling to them and she really didn't want to cause a scene if she could avoid it.

"It's not gonna hurt ya," he insisted and with a hard tug she found herself falling back into his chest.

She tensed for a moment, mind counting her options. She could be complacent and give in, but despite being a bit meek and non-confrontational she did not feel right letting this guy think it was ok to treat her the way he was. Something told her he was used to girls just giving in to him.

So what then? What could she do?

Just when it seemed like she'd have to draw attention to herself and risk embarrassment, he showed up, placing a hand right on the guy's shoulder, whispering something into his ear that she couldn't quite catch.

Immediately after, the creep let go of her, recoiling as if he'd just touched fire. His eyes darted between the two of them, seeming to weigh his options, before he backed away without a word, disappearing into the crowd never to be seen again.

Stunted and confused, Molly could imagine that she looked a bit like a fish the way her mouth opened and closed as it tried to catch up with her brain which was still processing what had just happened. And it didn't help that the man in front of her was a handsome, tall, shaggy blond who was all strong chin and sparkling green eyes. Fit didn't begin to describe him.

"You're welcome," he leaned forward to be heard and chuckled over the music, when a minute had gone by and she still had yet to speak, a hand went up to scratch his cheek a bit bashfully.

She noted, though a bit distractedly, that his accent was very American and if a voice could sound like a smile she was sure his would be the example. Snapping from her stupor, Molly flashed a bit of teeth and let out a breath of relief, her face most definitely flushed. "T-thank you!" she was able to get out finally, but spoke so loud he reeled back with a wince. "Sorry."

"It's alright!" He laughed, speaking in the same volume she had with a playful smile on his lips.

Finally thinking properly, she fixed him with a curious glance. "How'd you get him to bugger off?"

"Can't tell you," he grinned mischievously, and she frowned.

"Why not?"

Green eyes looking around aimlessly, he rocked on his feet before staring at her with a shyier smile. "Because if I do then I loose my mystery and you'll lose interest... and, well, to be honest I was kinda going to ask if you wanted to sit and talk a bit."

"Sit and talk...?" She repeated dumbly, and for a moment her mind went blank as she realized this man was hitting on her. Not that she'd never been hit on, of course, but this man was gorgeous and truly she couldn't possibly see what he'd see in her. She wasn't being self-conscious or anything (ok, maybe a little), just realistic. Guys who looked like him didn't need to go speak to a woman, they'd come to him.

"Yeah, you know. Talk. Chat. That neat thing that happens when words come out of a person's mouth and another person hears it and replies with more words," he rambled, looking a bit uncertain. Probably because she looked so shocked.

Feeling silly, her cheeks burned in embarrassment as she nodded, "I, uh... alright."

"Really?" he beamed and she nodded again. "Cool. Cool." For a few seconds they just stood there staring at each other, both at a loss on what to do next before he snapped out of it and motioned for her to lead the way.

Feeling very unsure of herself, Molly turned awkwardly and lead him to the table she and her still dancing co-workers had been sharing earlier in the night. He let her take a seat first before sitting in the one across from her, eyes never leaving her form.

"I'm Zane by the way, Zane Quincy," he introduced himself, offering her his hand to shake.

"Nice to meet you, Zane. I'm Molly." She shook his hand nervously and added "Hooper" as an afterthought. The skinship lasted a bit longer than normal as their eyes connected, and she became lost in a sea of green, noting the hues of blue and gold speckled beneath the surface. How was it that such a person could have such pretty eyes? He seemed almost other worldly.

She became very aware, very quickly of the fact that she was staring. But what really got her blush going was that he didn't seem to mind... because he was looking at her with just as intensely, if not more. Unnerved by the fact that she had this man's full attention, Molly cleared her throat and was the first to break eye contact. Heart racing a mile a minute as her free hand touched one of her overheated cheeks.

Zane smiled thoughtfully and released her other hand, but didn't look away, intent on keeping the conversation going. "So..." he trailed off, drumming his long fingers on the table as he leaned forward in interest. "Some friends you have, huh?" He asked nodding toward the tipsy group of girls partying and still blissfully unaware of what had taken place just moments before.

She lifted a brow at this as she wondered how he'd known she'd been with anyone. Before she could ask, he seemed to guess what she was going to say and smiled softly. "You kept looking over at them as if trying to catch their eye when that guy was bothering you," he explained with a shrug. "I took a wild guess."

A small smile of her own resting on her lips, she looked over to glance at the women in question. "Good guess... though they're not... I mean, I'm not... we're not close or anything. Not really." His expression went sympathetic and she frowned quickly adding, "Ah, not that I don't like them or anything! They're great! I just... I-I..."

Zane held up a hand to stop her rambling and finished for her, "don't normally do this sort of thing?"

"Yes... sorry, yes," Molly nodded, taking a deep breath to calm herself and continued, "They're my co-workers. Sort of an open invitation to all the single ladies."

He leaned forward even more at this. "Oh so you're single," he grinned, "that's good to know."

At this, her eyes went wide and her face once again felt extremely hot. "Ah, I-I didn't mean... I mean, I did mean... W-what I mean to say is, I am single, yes, but-"

Zane gently cut her off with a laugh. "Relax, I'm teasing."

She deflated. "Oh..."

"But it is good to know," he added in seriousness, wanting to make his interest clear.

"Right." Molly paused, absolutely beside herself. Hands fiddling the ends of her brown locks, she spoke her next words a bit softly, "A-Are you...?"

"Single?" He asked, and shook his head, "No, I just come here to save women from getting unwanted attention. My girlfriend calls me the Batman of nightclubs." He said it with such casual seriousness that Molly almost thought he was serious before he broke into a fit of laughter at the expression on her face. "Yes, I'm single," he was able to get out between chuckles.

Unable to think of where to take the conversation from there, her eyes dropped to the table uncertainly, though not uncomfortably. An amused smile resting on her lips, though she felt a bit silly for falling for his joke.

A moment of silence passed between them again before he changed the subject. "What do you do?"

"Pardon?"

"Your job. You mentioned it."

"...Oh," she said with obvious hesitation.

He caught on to her change in moods and added, "You don't have to tell me if you don't want to."

"No. It's not that... it's just most people usually regret asking that question." The last person to be interested about her job had been Jim from IT... or well, Moriarty. Tom hadn't even known what a Pathologist was until she'd told him. He thought it'd had to do with the study of paths. And at first she'd thought he'd been joking.

"Can't be that bad," he scoffed disbelievingly.

"I'm not so sure. It's not the most glamorous occupation."

Now he looked curious. "Let me be the judge of that."

"I'm a... uh, Pathologist."

"What? No way. How is that not interesting?"

"Well you know. People get squeamish when you mention death and decay," she joked, and was presently surprised when he laughed genuinely.

"True," he nodded, "but still... it's a respectable profession."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," he answered honestly.

Molly fought the silly grin that threatened to worm it's way on her face as they caught each other's eyes for a second time. Again, she found herself swimming. She waited a little longer before looking away this time. "So... um..."

"Hm?"

"What do you do?" She questioned, head bowing as she absently drew circles into the table with an index finger.

Zane smiled, leaning back in his seat. "Cardiology. I'm a heart surgeon."

Molly's eyebrows shot up with surprise. She hadn't expected him to also say he was a doctor."Yeah?"

He nodded, using a finger to scratch his cheek."Mhm. So I guess we have bodies in common. Working on bodies, I mean."

"Except yours are still alive," she giggled.

"One would hope," he smiled with a snort.

Molly found herself very taken with him. He was beautiful, smart, and laughed at her stupid jokes. How could someone like him be possible? Surely she was dreaming. "What hospital?" She pressed, trying to distract herself from her growing crush for a man she'd only just met.

She should have know better, really. Love at first sight was what had her pinning over an emotionally unavailable sociopath in the first place.

He ran his fingers through his hair and stretched his arms over his head. Molly tried not to notice the way his shirt tightened around his biceps. "Haven't started yet. I just moved here from New York, but I'll be starting at St. Bart's in a few days."

Again, she face opening showed her surprise. "What? Really? That's my hospital!"

He matched her expression and gave an almost disbelieving laugh. "No way. Are you serious? Small world."

"What made you move?"

He waved the question off as if it was unimportant. "One of your chairmen offered me the position."

Molly sucked in a breath, eyes widening in amazement. "You must have made an impression."

"Something like that," he snorted cryptically, dropping the subject as he glanced down at his watch. The pleasant expression on his face turned into a frown as he realized the time. "Oh shoot, I need to get going."

"O-Oh?" Molly tried to comment casually, but failed to mask her disappointment much to her annoyance.

Zane gave her a once over and grinned holding out his hand. "Can I see your phone?"

"Ah, sure." Confused, Molly fished out her phone and gave it to him.

She soon realized, though, that he was giving her his number. "There." He handed her back her phone and winked at her. "Call me sometime."

She nodded, too caught up in the fact that she now had his phone number to give a verbal answer. (Nor did she trust herself not to ramble aimlessly again).

"And don't worry about that creep. He won't bother you anymore," Zane promised, rising from his seat.

She started at this, remembering their earlier conversation. "Ah, you never did tell me how you got him to leave."

"I guess you'll have to give me a call if you want to find out!" He grinned over his shoulder before disappearing out of sight.

Sighing wistfully, she looked down at her phone, unable to stop the grin from spreading across her face. At that moment she was sure that she had, in fact been dreaming. How else was it possible that she could meet such a dazzling man? The exchange had left her so gity that she couldn't help but giggle to herself, nose scrunching up as she pressed the phone closer. A bit schoolgirl-y she had to admit, but there was always a bit of schoolgirl left in a woman. Some were just more likely to admit it than others. Molly happened to embrace her's from time to time, and what more appropriate one than now?

But of course, life went on, and as she stared down at the screen her phone buzzed making her jump and effectively breaking her from her thoughts. Frowning at it, she couldn't say she was surprised to see who it was texting her.

Come quickly to morgue. Assistance needed. - SH

Shaking her head, Molly sighed, eyes flashing up at the time. Midnight.

...He was lucky she was in a good mood.

On my way - Molly

A/N: Hope that was enjoyable. Or at least interesting. Or at the very least readable. Heh.

The emotional stuff shall be coming, but of course the groundwork has to be laid out first.

Hope your looking forward to the next chapter.

xx Glory