So many followers! Makes me happy J anyway, onward!
Anderson sat in his bed, a washed with worry. He knew deep down what he was doing wasn't right. But it kept him safe. Him and dear Kate.
If only he could tell her.
He knew what he was doing was wrong, and he was going against every fibre in his being, but he needed the money. And plus, Moriarty promised great things. Sherlock would most likely report to Lestrade tomorrow. He decided he might want to be there for that.
Sherlock was indeed there tomorrow, displaying his evidence to Lestrade.
"Ok, so Moriarty would friend them when he found out about their depressions then kill them. Like Saw, basically."
"Something like that. It would most likely be one of his branches. He'd get the information, supply it to them for a fee, and help them out."
Lestrade thought for a bit.
"We'll have our best detectives on it. Anderson will want to help out too."
"I would hardly call Anderson your best."
"Yes, we'll the others are either off or unavailable, and he's a good forensics officer. Oh by the way, the blood tests came back, it's not him."
They had a sample of Moriarty's blood from the roof of Barts, always handy to have around.
Anderson was by the door, out of sight. Sally saw him and winked.
"What's up, sexy?" She asked.
"Shhhh, hang in a sec."
"What is it?"
"Just...just listening."
"Alright. You seem tense lately babe, is Kate getting suspicious?" She asked, concerned for their secret. He smiled, stroking her arm.
"No, no it's fine. Just tired is all." She smiled back.
"Call me later, kay?"
"Ok."
Later, Sherlock was in the lab, looking over the broken glass for fingerprints. If the killer was careless to leave behind his DNA, he was either really stupid or really desperate. Being one of Moriarty's men, he'd say the latter. But the fingerprints were small, he was quite young. By the amount of force it must have tacked to pry it from the woman, the force that was applied was minimal, so he was weak.
He thought. Young, weak, sadistic, my, this is getting rather fun. Perhaps an 8, serial rapists and/or killers never often score lower than seven. He was curious to get to know this man better.
Molly walked in with Sherlocks coffee. She seemed somewhat uneasy. Sherlock couldn't help but look through her. Bags underneath her eyes, she hasn't been sleeping. She has a slight tremor, certainly not fear induced, she'd been drinking. Something had happened.
"Molly, are you ok?" He asked. She seemed shocked he would ask.
"Yeah, yeah just...just life y'know?"
"Molly, don't lie you really are terrible at it, what's wrong."
"I...I just..." Suddenly tears welled from her eyes. "It's just my father, he died yesterday."
Sherlock was shocked. Molly didn't look right, all upset. She was sitting now, tears falling freely from her eye. Sherlock hesitated, but wrapped his arms around her. She returned it, crying into his short. Sherlock wasn't sure what to do. It seemed holding her was enough.
Molly couldn't believe Sherlock was really hugging her. She decided to take this opportunity; she may never have it again.
"I-I'm sorry I just-"
"No, no don't apologise it's fine."
"I miss him so much; I almost wish I could DIE!"
Sherlock froze.
"Molly may I borrow your phone."
"Um, yeah sure I suppose." She said. He pulled away from her and got the phone, going into Facebook and then friends. Sure enough, there he was. Rich Brook. Sherlocks grip tightened around the phone.
"Wh-what is it Sherlock?"
"Rich, do you know him?"
"Well, he added me on Facebook; I suspect I've just forgotten him. He does look dreadfully familiar..."
Anderson stood in the rain as it fell heavily onto his hair, chilling his body. A figure walked next to him, sunglasses on, despite the weather. He knew who it was.
"This better be important, you know I refuse to meet in daylight." Said Moriarty
"Oh it is, sir. Our man, he left DNA at the scene of the crime." Moriarty turned to him.
"If you're lying, I can make you into a wicked hat to match these shoes."
"I assure you sir I'm not. This man's an amateur!"
"Perhaps. Everyone starts out an amateur, everyone makes mistakes. I have high hopes in this young lad."
"Hmmm."
"I do hope you don't...doubt me. Are you?"
"Not at all. Sherlock will catch on soon. Any current potentials then?"
"One. A miss Hooper, recently deceased father."
Anderson froze. Molly, sweet Jesus not Molly.
"Is there a problem, Mr Anderson?"
"N-no, no problem."
"I thought so."
The clouds were beginning to fade. Moriarty lowered the umbrella he had been holding.
"Time to choose your side, Anderson. I pray you won't disappoint."
"Mycroft, please reason with me!"
John sighed, Sherlock had been yelling down the phone all afternoon. He had told John about what serious danger Molly was in, god knows he'd bodyguard her himself, but decided Sherlock had the right idea, consulting the British Government. He would be able to get someone there twenty-four-seven.
After another hour, he put down the phone in defeat.
"Well?" asked John.
"He can arrange someone in the next two days. We don't have two days, they'll be too late!"
"Sherlock, calm down, she'll be ok."
"No, no she won't, we need to protect her before Moriarty's men get to her first."
His phone buzzed. He grabbed it, quickly and answered with a deep fear in his gut. It was Molly.
"Molly, are you ok, what's happened?" He asked, hysteria gripping his voice.
"Help, me Sherlock, they're coming for-." The line went dead.
Sherlock ran for the door, not bothering with his coat, and grabbing John's revolver from the table.
Hope Molly's gonna be ok, oh yeah im writing it, I decide :D. Sorry if the updates aren't regular im doing some exams soon. Till chapter three J (PS sorry for the short chapter)