Chapter 1
Hello. Been a long time. -JM
Jim. Why are you texting me?
Because, can't an old friend say hi? Now please let me in. The hallway stairs could use some color, much too dreary. -JM
Molly stared wide-eyed at the phone. Not only was Jim Moriarty contacting her- he was outside? She glanced at her door. She shouldn't let him in. He was a dangerous criminal and couldn't possibly be up to any good. Sherlock and him were enemies, he threatened her friends. Was this a kidnap? If really wanted her, he could easily take her with no fuss and no noise. Any responsible adult would call the police, run, do anything but open that door...
But she couldn't help herself- as they say, curiosity killed the cat, and Molly was too curious for her own good. Was this the same feeling John talked about once? The thrill of the chase? Especially because average life was humdrum and a mere time killer. Whereas Jim was more than that, more than average life. There was a need to know why he'd come here, so she went to the door, hesitating for a moment before finally opening it.
"Hullo there," Jim smiled pleasantly, "Thank you, I was becoming bored out here."
"Wh- what are you doing here?" Molly asked, refusing to move out of the way to let him into her flat, "What do you want?"
Hands in pocket, the Consulting Criminal gave a simple shrug and chewed on his gum. Casually he leaned midair as if against a wall and completely relaxed. On the surface, the charm played about his face while his eye might be caught glinting mischief. To Molly's surprise, he was sporting his Westwood, easily recognizable in the public. Was it he did not care or was it the sheer confidence? Realizing she was still staring, he raised an eyebrow and righted himself.
"Just wanted to stop by for a visit. Please? Come on, I'll make tea for you since I didn't ring ahead of time," Jim continued politely carefully, he placed a hand on her shoulder and gave a slight squeeze, "Molls?"
The man would come inside even if Molly didn't let him. Tensed, she glanced at his hand on her shoulder- he was probably going to push her aside even if she said no. Every ounce of her being nearly flinched, mentally forcing her body to still, maybe even stiffen against his hands. Hands that have been up to no good.
"Fine," she replied, stepping back so he could enter and removed his hand off her as if it were a dead rat.
"Thank you," inside, Jim glided to the kitchen, everything was where it used to be, teabags and all. Kettle full, he let it warm and with a plate, he filled a few biscuits. Waiting, he leaned once more against the counter top and observed Molly.
"So how's work? Hopefully not driving you into the ground?"
She watched him apprehensively, trying to remain calm and almost expressionless. Any emotion would help him read her like a book. Arms crossed she watched him, almost eye to eye with him though mostly she stared at what was his vague outline of him. If she made direct contact-
"Work is fine. Nothing new or of particular interest lately," Molly nervously brushed a strand of hair behind her ear, "Jim... Why are you here? What's the real reason? What do you want from me?"
"All in good time, please, its matters best discussed over a hot cup. Here," he handed her the plate, "Meet you back in the living room." Then he resumed preparing the saucers and cups, eventually making his way back out. Sitting on the couch, Molly watched him carefully, phone sitting in her pocket unused and like a weigh. In her mind she made a silent pact to herself not to drink it, as it could very well be poisoned or drugged. Internally Molly could not decide what was worse: waiting to hear what he had to say or the smile he showed.
"So... I have a question to ask of you Molly, very important," his tone shifted to business like, "You willing to hear my proposal?"
"I- I- um, okay," she replied, afraid to know what exactly the question was, "I mean you have been gone for the longest of times and well- last time I had to deal with you, you were threatening my friends."
"Truth. I did threaten but there was no-"
"No intention to kill Greg. Mrs. Hudson. John or Sherlock!" her voice rose and Jim waved a lazy hand.
"I said I threatened. Never said I would actually go through with it. Just had to see how Sherlock would dance and he has quite a pair of feet to avoid a dance with the dead," Jim hummed and Molly sucked her teeth.
"And why shouldn't I ask Inspector Detective Lestrade to come arrest you? I have ever right because, because- well," she was losing her nerve the more he stared with little emotional reaction. Completely unhinging in her inability to read him, pick up a clue. Another moment passed when Jim cleared his throat, casually leaning back in his chair.
"Right, Molly, you are an excellent candidate with vast medical and lab knowledge. I would love to have you work for me. I find it simpler to speak with," Jim ended as he sipped his tea. Full of disbelief she stared at him, her mouth hanging open in surprise.
"I'm sorry... What?"
"I would like you to come aboard. There is great pay and being with me, you have the key to practically the whole world. I can understand if it's a bit sudden."
"You... want me... to work for you?" she stared at him, her voice sounding incredulous for how could he possibly be serious, "I- I... You do realize who you're talking to, right? I'm not... I could never even hurt a fly. I can't condone all of the hurt you caused people. Threatening to blow them up or kill them!"
"I'm not asking you to do anything graphic of that nature, oh no. Much too pretty to be getting your hands soiled... no..." Jim gave her a small smile and delicately sunk his teeth in a biscuit, "And please. It's more of a hassle to kill in the open. I threatened only because I knew the Boy Genius would be able to solve the puzzle and be the hero in time."
"But then..." Molly paused, confused. He was the Consulting Criminal, what else could he possibly want from her? "What do you want me for?"
"Psssh, Molly, have a little faith in yourself," Jim brushed the crumbs off his mouth and stood up, "I need someone with medical experience. I suppose personal doctor might cover it? Help with the scrapes and boo boos. Maybe a few other things here and there. Colonel always needs some stitching; then again that's why I hired him."
"Why should I help you?" the anger made her voice came out stronger, more confident, "You're a criminal. You tried to kill Sherlock and John. Why should I even consider helping you?"
"He's been back you know... been in London for at least a month now..." Jim said sadly, keeping his eyes to the floor, only flickering up for a moment.
"Sh- Sherlock?" Molly asked, knowing that was indeed the answer, "No... No, he would've told me he was back- he trusts me." The shaking in her voice sounded uncertain and weakened her argument. Instead, Jim merely shook his head with pity.
Jim searched his pockets and pulled out a photo, Sherlock standing back on the roof of Bart's with his usual coat and his usual mop of hair. Healthy and alive. No. No, that couldn't be true.
"Clearly you have been avoiding Baker Street. This photo was taken on the day he came back and he has been spotted with John a few times. Thinks he has taken down my organization though he is awfully mistaken. Still, already on some case, clever boy can't be held down, a faked suicide does not hold him."
"But... I helped him- I helped him fake his death. He trusted me, that's why he asked for my help. Why would he... No. No, it can't be. There has to be some sort of mistake. He wouldn't just show back up in London and not tell me," Molly protested, her voice not sounding like she believed any of what she was saying. Sherlock's convincing voice echoed in her ears, the reassurance and confidence he instilled in her. The kind smile and the icy eyes that glinted in warmth for a moment.
"I am so sorry, Molly. It's horrible and is why I want you with me. I understand your talents and give an appreciation to them. I mean hell! The stunt you pulled with Sherlock was brilliant. Fooled my clients and helped me. He's used you again Molly. If he cared- Please, I'm so sorry..." Jim knelt next to her chair, resting an arm on one of his knees.
"No!" Molly stood up abruptly, angry, "Stop. Just... Stop it. You've lied to me before, you faked an entire relationship with me, why should I trust you? You could easily just be lying to me to make me turn on Sherlock. I'm not stupid, Jim."
"Who said I faked the relationship? You were the one that ended it remember? And of course you are not stupid, far from it," he answered, gazing up at her, "Always had interest. You interest me."
"I ended it because you lied to me," she spat back, "About who you were, where you worked... Somehow, when you were dating me, you seemed to neglect mentioning the fact that, oh, I don't know, you were a consulting criminal and Sherlock's nemesis! You used me, to get to Sherlock- who's to say you won't do it again now?"
"I was trying not to involve you too much... I learned of Sherlock and, yes, he fascinated me. I began dating you and it so happened that you knew him, ok. For once something wasn't planned, It just... happened. And then I kept my identity secret because I did not want you involved. Or hurt. Instead... he dragged you down with him," Jim perked up his head and then looked to the door, "Look. I'm sorry, guess it wasn't a good idea. I'll see myself out."
"How did you get that picture?" Molly's voice rang quietly, but clearly as Jim stood to leave, and Jim turned halfway around.
"Sebastian. We heard a rumor he may have been back, so I sent him to investigate. I am sorry to have wasted your time though. I'm sorry it couldn't have worked out," Jim answered quietly without directly looking at her.
Again, Molly looked down at the picture in her hands. It was certainly Sherlock. How could he have come back to London and not told her? A month. Days and weeks gone without considering to call or text. The fink. Damn it she was played again, and Sherlock knew how to fiddle the stings.
"Jim, if I were to work for you... What exactly would that entail? I wouldn't have to commit any crimes, would I?" she glanced back up at him.
"No, just repair a soldier's wounds really. If I need something different I'll ask for your consent ok," he explained gently as he walked to her, "I would hate to see the beautiful song bird trapped in a cage, no. Forced to sing when it doesn't want to."
She bit her lip, thinking. There was nothing wrong with patching up some wounds- granted, they were probably wounds belonging to people that weren't very innocent, but they were people, nonetheless. Would it be wrong of her to accept Jim's offer? Slowly Molly looked back down at the picture in her hand again. All her life, she just wanted to be needed and if she helped Jim, then she would finally have that. If it came down to it, at least she could gain insider information for the police. It appeared to her she could never hope that Sherlock would truly need her. Not any more goddamn it. She looked up at Jim and gave a small smile.
"Ok. Ok, I'll do it."
"But Molly, I want you to feel safe saying yes or no to this. I, no doubt, must have frightened you. Please, don't choose so hastily on my account," Jim said softly, now close to Molly as he lightly touched the side of her arm with his fingertips.
"I- I'm fine with this. I don't have to hurt anyone and I'm actually helping people by doing this," she thought aloud, glancing at his hand on her arm and then up at him. If she did not throw in rationalization, she surely would back down.
"Yes... most likely me and Seb will get the most of it," he gave a soft chuckle, gingerly running a finger up and down her arm, "I'm really, really happy Molly. Actually excited, oooo this is going to be great," he said smiling boyishly.
The chills the man created danced up and down her spine, and Molly wasn't sure if it was fear causing them or... something else. Blushing, she looked away. Was it wrong of her to help a Consulting Criminal? Surely healing was never a bad thing, no matter who it was she was healing, right? Not actually consorting with his enterprise- After a moment she cleared her throat.
"Right. Umm, when- when do I start?" she asked nervously.
Jim stepped back and spun in thought, "Mmmmmmm you can move in tonight, I'll send the boys over to move everything from here to the estate. Once there, resume your normal duties at Bart's as usual, and when I need you I'll text. Hopefully when I need your services you should be done with work by then. Your option. Pack your bags now? Later? Tomorrow?"
"I'm sorry, what?" Molly asked, surprised, "An estate? You- you never mentioned my having to move..."
"If you are going to be my personal doctor, you are going to have to live with me. Sorry, no exceptions for this one. With Sebastian as my right hand, you'll be sitting in my left. From there I need to protect you and you'll be safe. Not that our rivals will know who you are but just in case."
"But... I can't just leave my flat and Toby, what about Toby?" she was grasping at straws and she knew it.
"Bring him along of course! Where is the fluff ball anyway?" Jim knelt down and tried to make noise to pull Toby from his hiding place. Toby slunk out from underneath the couch, his new favorite safe haven, and straight into Jim's arms.
"Jim, I- I don't really want to move," Molly mumbled. In her mind she was being stubborn- living in an estate would obviously be quite the improvement to her current situation in a tiny flat, but at least it was her tiny flat. Plus, something about living with the Consulting Criminal and his right-hand man made her feel like accepting his job offer was something really wrong for her to have done- like she was a criminal too.
"Oh hello! Yes I missed you," Jim cooed and purred, scratching Toby's head, "I understand if you don't want to move but... Instead of a room in the house... I can situate you in the pool house? Either this or squat, and I am sorry to inconvenience you so."
"I- I don't know..." Molly paused. Was it a good idea to go along with this, or was it one of the worst decisions she could make? Her eyes glanced back down at the picture one last time.
"Think of it this way," his voice pitched in suddenly, "You have nothing left to lose. Cept perhaps Toby and your life. If I am to be honest, friends seem few and far between Molly. But I can help you there. Why not have an adventure with me?"
For the briefest moment Molly could notice the glint of mischief, trickster, sinister, and- truth. Damn it he knew how to expand on the painful truth. There was nothing to lose.
"Okay. Okay, I- I'll go."
"Excellent! Go pack a bag or two, and I'll make a few phone calls alright?" Gently he patted her cheek before placing Toby on the couch and stepped out into the stairwell, leaving the door open. Uncertain, she couldn't help but wonder if she'd finally made the right choice as she went to her room and packed her bags with some clothes. Closing the suitcase, the conflicted woman heaved a sigh. Deciding that only time would tell, Molly walked back out to where Jim was, scooping Toby up into her arms on the way. It was not until later that night did she realize that she hardly glanced around her flat for a second time before leaving.
