This is a mulit chapter story and has 13 chapters as of right now. I will be posting regular updates (every couple of days or so.) I will post trigger warnings at the beginning of each chapter. Please read them carefully.
A couple of BIG thanks... First off: To MizJoely for betaing this and frankly being an amazing friend. Also to MrsMCrieff for her Britt help and for her assistance with the title... some day I'll tell you all what I called this for the two months that I worked on it...LOL! All mistakes belong to me, by the way.
*Trigger warning: Mention of attempted sexual assault.*
I own nothing. Enjoy ~Lil~
"John, that was so simple even you should have been able to see it," Sherlock said, walking up the stairs of 221B as his blogger followed.
"I'm not an idiot, ya know!" John snapped back.
Sherlock turned and gave his friend a look reserved only for him.
"No- no I'm not! And by the way I need to get home soon. Mary's about to pop."
The consulting detective opened the door to the flat and stopped causing John to nearly run into him. Sherlock looked around the room and sniffed the air.
"What? What is it?" John asked.
Sherlock shook his head and quickly walked through the flat, looking around, ducking his head into the kitchen. He stopped off at the bathroom, testing the doorknob, then opening the door slowly until he was satisfied that it was empty. He then continued on toward his bedroom.
John drew his Browning as he followed.
When they made it to Sherlock's bedroom. He pushed open the door, that was slightly ajar, and stopped. "John, we have a client."
The former army doctor's blood ran cold. The scene was far too familiar. It brought back memories of a woman he was not to fond of and a mourning detective. He pushed his way into the room, past Sherlock, to find Molly Hooper asleep in Sherlock's bed. She sat up at the sound of creaking floorboards, looking startled.
"Molly?" John said. "Is everything okay?"
Sherlock pushed John aside. "Obviously not John. Didn't you just tell me that you weren't an idiot?" He now stood between John and the frightened pathologist. "What's happened?"
She looked at Sherlock. "Can I speak with you alone?" she asked in a small voice.
Sherlock turned on John. "Out!"
John busied himself in the kitchen making tea and contemplating what the hell was going on. What could bring Molly Hooper to Sherlock's... bed? He sent Mary a text telling her he'd most likely be late but didn't mention Molly or anything that had transpired. Though in fairness, he had no information. She told him she was fine and to take his time. Bless that woman, he thought.
Ten minutes later the tea was made and Sherlock came storming out of his room. "John, could you go examine Molly's injuries, please? I need to make a phone call," he said, mobile in hand.
"What's going on?"
His friend looked up with fire in his eyes. "What's going on is that Molly Hooper was attacked by one of the hired goons my brother put on her as her detail." He took a deep breath. "And now I'm going to kill him."
"Did he try to kidnap her? Is he working with Moriarty?" John asked.
"Kidnap...? If it were only that simple," Sherlock said, almost to himself.
"What?" he exclaimed. "Oh my God," he said under his breath. "Did he...?"
Sherlock's head jerked up. "No-no, he... Our Molly, um, she managed to, ah..." He gripped his phone. "Damnit!" he growled.
"Sherlock you have to calm down." John tried to walk towards his friend, but Sherlock stepped back.
"No John, what I have to do is protect the people I... the people close to me. And all I've managed to do is get Molly hurt. Now, please go see to her while I make threats against the British government."
John nodded and made his way to Sherlock's room. He knocked and Molly answered in a surprisingly strong voice.
"Hey John," she said as he walked in. "You're here to look me over?"
He nodded. "Yeah, um, I'm so sorry."
She waved her hand dismissively and shook her head. "It's fine. I just thought I should let Sherlock know since it was Mycroft's man who..." She looked away, shuddered and then looked back to John. "Anyway, I must have been tired once the adrenaline wore off. I have no idea why I laid down in his bed. Though in fairness, he's commandeered mine plenty of times." She looked up at John surprised at her own words. "I-I mean, he uses my bed... and I sleep well, that is to say... We don't... we've never..."
"It's okay, Molly," John said with a smile. "I know he uses your flat from time to time. Of course I would never think that anything was going on." He watched her face fall and knew had said something wrong... Sherlock's rubbing off on me, he thought. "I mean, well... you know what I mean." He cleared his throat. "Um, can I take a look at you? Are you comfortable with that?"
"Oh, yeah, um. I'm just roughed up a bit. I'll be sore, of course, my wrist might be sprained. He kicked my shin and bashed my head against the wall."
She seemed emotionally much better than she should, given the circumstances. But John was still cautious. They went about the exam and he confirmed that she had several contusions and a sprained left wrist. She also had a slight concussion. John was more than a little impressed that Molly had been able to escape. As he was finishing up there was a knock on the door, then Sherlock let himself in (John was surprised he had actually knocked.)
"Mycroft's here." He directed his words at Molly. "I've told him everything I can. He wants to talk to you."
"Okay," she said. "Um Sherlock? I haven't washed... even my hands." She held them up. "I scratched him."
Sherlock's eyes lit up and sprinted out of the room. He was back in seconds. He knelt in front of her and took her face in his hands. "You brilliant woman." He kissed her forehead then began collecting skin samples from underneath Molly's nails. "John, go tell fatty that Molly and I will join him in just a moment."
As John left to deliver the message he thought about Sherlock and his behaviour. He'd seen Sherlock filled with nervous energy before, but this was somehow different.
Sherlock carefully extracted the skin cells from under Molly's nails, glancing up every once in a while. When he was finished he sat back on his heels and took her hands in his. "Molly, my brother is unpleasant under the best of circumstances. He will be an unbearable arse when you get out there." He stroked his thumbs across her knuckles. "I am sorry. He will be defensive and argumentative and..."
"It's okay, Sherlock. I understand," she interrupted. "We all have family. Though admittedly I'm not related to anyone who runs a country. I do have an uncle who runs a discount carpet outlet," she said brightly.
Sherlock studied her. "How do you do it Molly?"
Her smile faded. "Do what?"
"Stay you... no matter what," he said and as he did he reached up to brush a stray hair out of her face.
She smiled again. "I'm okay, Sherlock. He-he didn't..." She shook her head.
Sherlock's face darkened and he stood up immediately keeping hold of one of her hands. "Shall we?" he asked.
She nodded.
They found John and Mycroft sipping tea and making uncomfortable conversation in the sitting room.
"Ah, Miss Hooper. First of all, let me apologize for any inconvenience you might be experiencing this evening," Mycroft said as he stood.
"Inconvenience?" Sherlock spit. "She was attacked! She didn't lose her hand bag."
"Hmm, of course," his brother said with a raised eyebrow.
Sherlock released Molly's hand and moved closer to his brother. "Where is he?"
"We have him. I received a phone call on my way here. He reported to his superior; turning in his resignation. He said that he and Miss Hooper engaged in consensual," He paused and looked at Molly. "sexual conduct."
Molly gasped and John walked over to her, putting his arm around her carefully.
Sherlock got into his brother's face. "Listen to me, brother mine. If Molly Hooper says she was attacked, than she was attacked. Do you understand?"
Mycroft backed away, putting some distance between himself and the younger man. "As I said on the phone, perhaps this was an attempt to..."
Sherlock took his brother by the lapels and shook him. "Don't repeat the filth you spewed to me over the phone unless you'd like to find yourself less a couple of teeth, old man."
John left Molly's side to pull Sherlock back. "Hey, Sherlock, Molly's upset. Take her back to the bedroom, yeah?"
Sherlock didn't let go of the death grip he had on his brother.
"He did this. You're slipping Mykey. Your agent harmed my friend. If you don't deal with him, I will!" He released the older man, but not without pushing his back a couple of steps. He turned to Molly cupping her cheek in his hand. "You okay?" She nodded and he turned back to his brother. "See yourself out Mycroft. I'm giving you this night and this night only. After that you'll be cleaning up my mess." He took Molly's hand and they walked back down the hall.
Mycroft looked at John. "You don't see that as a disadvantage?"
"What?" John asked.
"The way he's behaving? Not seeing what is right in front of his face."
John squared on the man and considered taking up Sherlock's former post. "An injured and frightened woman?"
"A manipulative and cunning woman, or at least the potential for one. I'll admit that Agent Cummings could have attacked Miss Hooper but there is a possibility that she staged this whole thing to get my brother's attention." He straightened his waistcoat and retrieved his umbrella. "Try to talk some sense into him, John."
"You, are an utter fool, Mycroft Holmes."
He smiled at John, the same condescending smile that Sherlock sometimes graced him with. "John, she lied to you for two years. Don't you think she could lie to him to get him into her bed? Or to get into his?" He looked down the hallway. "It seems to have worked, by all accounts." And with that, he took his leave.
Okay, there's chapter one. Let me have it... I think I'm ready... Thanks so much for reading.~Lil~