A/N: Just a little something based on The Bridge episode 'The Beetle' (1x09), the title is from the James Bond movie/song of the same name - I just couldn't resist (you may - or may not - see why when you read the scene). This is set after TRF. I hope you enjoy :)

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Thunderball

Sherlock burst through the door with all of his characteristic bravado and a barely contained hint of desperation.

"Molly?"

Upon receiving no answer, Sherlock spun around in a small circle; taking stock of his surroundings and desperately searching for a sign – for anything – that might give him a clue to her whereabouts.

"She had to be here," he muttered, still searching the room, ignoring the police and crime scene investigators spilling into the room, "I was so sure…"

"Sherlock?"

His eyes snapped to John, a little annoyed at the interruption.

"She's not here," John told him in a conciliatory tone, "we'll have to look somewhere else."

Sherlock resisted the urge to stamp his foot in frustration and settled for a grunt, "She had to be here," he snapped, turning away and scanning the room with his eyes again. "Everything pointed to him bringing her here, why isn't she here?" he added, shooting an accusing glare in John's direction.

John held his hands up in a placating gesture, "I don't know, but we'll find her Sherlock," he assured him.

Sherlock narrowed his eyes and stalked out of the room without a word.

John followed him out and watched as the other man paced in front of the deserted building, muttering to himself about codes and signs. He could count on one hand the number of times he'd seen the consulting detective this agitated, his brow furrowed slightly as it occurred to him that most of those times had involved the pathologist.

Sherlock suddenly stopped and cocked his head to the side, listening.

"Quiet!" he bellowed, startling the police and other personnel, they looked from him to Lestrade who motioned for them to do as he bid.

Sherlock barely noticed the brief exchange, or the silence that ensued, as he stood in their midst; obviously straining to hear something.

In the silence the others were able to discern a muffled noise coming from nearby.

In truth it was barely audible, but it was enough to send the consulting detective sprinting in the direction of a barely visible outbuilding in the distance.

Sherlock skidded to a stop in front of the locked door, "Molly?"

"Sherlock?"

Sherlock sagged a little with relief at the sound of her voice before casting around for something to break the lock. John came up behind him, panting.

"Is she in there?" he asked, watching as Sherlock attempted to break the lock using a brick.

"Yes," Sherlock answered tightly, hammering desperately away at the lock. He cursed as he tossed it aside.

"No good?" John asked, looking around for something better to break the lock.

"Stand back," Sherlock ordered Molly through the door and, before John could ask what he was planning, the consulting detective started to throw his weight against the door.

"What are you doing?" he asked, watching in amazement as Sherlock made another run at the door.

Sherlock shot a disdainful look in his direction and John held up his hands in defeat, acknowledging the stupidity of his rather obvious question as he moved to help his friend.

Between the two of them, they eventually succeeded in breaking down the door and John watched in amusement as Sherlock rushed over to where Molly was standing.

"Sherlock, wait," she ordered, stopping him in his tracks and both men watched in horror as she held her hands aloft, revealing the hand grenade she was holding. "He took the pin out," Molly explained, looking up at Sherlock with terrified eyes, "if I let go…" she trailed off as she bit back a sob.

John watched as Sherlock took a tentative step towards her, maintaining eye contact, "We'll do this slowly," he counselled, "John, clear the doorway," he ordered, without looking away.

John hastily removed the debris from the door, "Ready," he said after a moment, stepping out of the way.

Sherlock took another step forward and covered Molly's hands with his own, "Follow me," he ordered. He barely waited for her nod of acknowledgement before he started to lead her out of the building.

"Now," Sherlock continued calmly once they were outside, his eyes still locked with Molly's, "John, I want you to go and tell the others to take cover and, whatever you do, don't let them come any closer."

John looked doubtful, "Sherlock, are you-?"

"Just do it," Sherlock snapped, sending John scuttling back to where they had left Lestrade and the others.

"What are we going to do?" Molly asked in a small voice once John had left.

"On the count of three you're going to pass the grenade over to me," Sherlock explained evenly, Molly opened her mouth to protest but he ignored her. "Once you have done so, you'll duck as I throw it away," he continued, "do you understand?"

Molly nodded, her eyes still wide with fright.

"Good," Sherlock said, dropping her gaze to look down at their hands, Molly followed suit. "Now, on the count of three," Sherlock counselled, "one…two…three…"

Deftly he took the grenade off Molly, careful to maintain the pressure on the release. He barely noticed her drop to the ground as he tossed it away from them into the open fields beyond. In the next moment he bent over her crouched form, shielding her with his body as the grenade exploded.

It was all over in a matter of seconds, but it took both Sherlock and Molly a little longer to regain their bearings.

Sherlock was the first to recover, "Did he hurt you?" he demanded, scanning her intently as he sat back, releasing her.

Molly shook her head and tucked a lock of hair behind her ear with shaking fingers, "No, he just…gave me the bomb."

She suppressed a shudder at the memory, although it didn't go unnoticed by Sherlock as he stood up. She shot him a grateful smile as he offered her a hand to help her to her feet, "Thank you," she said finally, looking deep into his eyes and unconsciously clutching his hand a little tighter.

"You're welcome," he replied, his voice a little gruff as he ran his thumb soothingly across her knuckles.

"That was-are you completely insane?" John demanded, breaking the moment as he came back to join them, closely followed by Lestrade. "You could have killed someone!" John continued, "Including yourself!"

Sherlock resisted the urge to roll his eyes as he dropped Molly's hand, "Your concern is completely unnecessary, we're fine," Sherlock said dismissively as he turned to face the pair.

"You idiot," Lestrade said, ignoring his statement as he crossed his arms, "what if it had gone off before you threw it away?"

This time Sherlock did roll his eyes, "As stimulating as this discussion of alternate possibilities is, the fact remains that it didn't explode." His eyes narrowed slightly, as he watched John pull Molly into a relieved embrace. "What would you have had me do? Keep Molly in danger by allowing her to continue holding it?" he scoffed.

It was John's turn to roll his eyes as he pulled back from hugging Molly, "I'm glad you're all right," he said, taking a step back, "despite the danger this git put you in," he added, ignoring Sherlock's protests.

Lestrade gave her hand a squeeze, "I'm glad you're safe."

Molly gave both men a grateful smile as Sherlock pointedly stepped behind her and placed his hands possessively on her shoulders. "I believe the correct procedure now is to wrap her in one of those hideous blankets," he said flatly and, without waiting for an answer, started to steer her in the direction of the ambulance waiting back at the main building.

Behind them Lestrade and John shared an amused look, "Possessive much?" Lestrade commented as they started to follow them.

"You have no idea," John replied, smirking as he watched Sherlock drop his hold on Molly's shoulders to take her hand in his.