Title: Something More Sinister- Chapter 2

Author: Ambur

Rating: M

Disclaimer: Not mine

Notes: This story will be a mix between both worlds. I hope the transitions are easy to follow. Molly is not in this chapter, but she will be in the next…I haven't decided whose going to get her first, Jim or Sherlock. This chapter is mostly explaining a little more of the plot. This story will have quite a few twist and turns and lots of action. I have not decided how dark I am going to make this Sherlock. Characters kind of have a mind of their own the more I write. I will hopefully have a beta. I'm going to see if the beta for my other stories has time to beta this one, so forgive any mistakes with this one. Cheers!

Chapter Two

John Watson stood looking out the window of 221 B Baker Street. He absentmindedly ran his index finger over the scar that marred his left cheek. He often did this when he was deep in thought. He was contemplating the events of the last 24 hours.

He couldn't believe what this slight woman had been going on about. He couldn't fathom Sherlock believing her drivel either. An experiment in a morgue that had gone wrong? A loud crash of thunder and blinding lightning and poof, here she was? And this rubbish about there being another Sherlock, a kinder, gentler Sherlock, who was a, what had she called it, a consulting detective. John snorted at the lunacy of it.

"Something on your mind, John?" Sherlock asked

John turned to regard his friend. "Do you honestly believe that nonsense that she was spouting off about?"

"I am a scientist and a theorist, John. I often believe in the inexplicable."

"Yes, but another you? A kinder, gentler you?"

Both men chuckled at such a thought.

"Yes, well, perhaps she hit her head on the concrete. You're a doctor. You saw the blood."

John nodded and turned back to look out into the night.

"How long will you let her wander the streets, Sherlock? You know James is looking for her as well. And he seems to think he saw her first."

"I am having her followed. But they are far enough back from her as to give her a false sense of hope."

John laughed. "How cruel you are, Sherlock."

Sherlock grinned menacingly to his friend. "I do love the chase, John. It is almost as sweet as the capture. Besides, by the time my men bring her in, she will have suffered in the freezing rain with what little clothing she had to protect her, she will be grateful for a warm bed for the night, I should think."

"Yes well, you had better hope that your men find her before James' men do."

Sherlock snorted. "Please, he has nothing but imbeciles working for him. I will never understand why such a clever man has such buffoons on his payroll."

"And your men are any better?" John asked his eyebrow quirked.

Sherlock shrugged. "Good help is hard to find these days, especially hired guns. Completely lacking brains, but plenty of balls…isn't that what the Americans say? Which of course is a splendid thing indeed if you choose a life if crime as your occupation."

Sherlock stood, putting the cigarette out. "I do think I have trained my men better than James has his."

John rolled his eyes. "You both are like petculant children. Is everything a competition between the two of you?"

"Of course, else we'd be bored silly wouldn't we?"

"I almost feel sorry for the girl you know."

Sherlock looked moderately surprised. "Why is that?"

"Because I know how you are when you decide something belongs to you. James is the same way and the both of you want the same thing. But then again, I can't blame either of you. She is a delicious little thing isn't she?"

Sherlock's eyes darkened. "She's mine, John."

John sighed. "I know that. Besides, I have already found what I want."

Sherlock smirked. "Ah yes…that little nurse, what's her name, Mary, is it? When do you plan on taking her? I know you're bored with Irene."

"What makes you think I haven't already?" John asked.

"Because I don't hear muffled sounds coming from your room where she would be bound, spread eagled, and gagged."

Both men looked at the small table where the lamp stood when it vibrated. Sherlock picked up his phone.

I do hope our little kitten doesn't catch cold. Let the games begin, my friend. JM

The smile that crossed Sherlock's face was feral.

Sherlock Holmes disliked inclement weather. Not because it was inclement, but because people seemed to be even more ignorant than usual in inclement weather. However, despite the heavy rain and ridiculously strong winds, he found he still had pep in his step. He was actually whistling as he opened the doors to St. Bart's hospital and began making his decent to the morgue where he knew his pathologist would be waiting for him.

He was excited about a new experiment he was keen on putting to good use the fresh cadaver that Molly had texted him about. He was to have the pick of any body part he wished. He could barely contain his childish glee.

Molly was standing over her desk staring intently at her clipboard. She did not even notice Sherlock come in. She didn't hear him slide up beside her either and shrieked when she finally turned and saw him standing there with a smirk. Sherlock caught her clipboard before it clattered on the tile.

"Oh Sher..Sherlock…you startled me."

"Obviously." He said handing her the clipboard. "Now, what do you have for me?"

"Male, 49 years old, died of complications from diabetes."

Sherlock sighed, "Boring."

"Well it's not a case Sherlock, just something for you to cut up and experiment on!" She huffed in annoyance.

Sherlock had been about an hour in his experiment when the really violent lightening and thundering had started. One clap had been so particularly loud that Molly had jumped and squeaked. Sherlock glanced at her with a smirk on his face. She could feel his eyes on her and glared at him.

Sherlock went back to his microscope until another flash of lightening caught his attention. He looked up and watched as the odd colored lightning flashed again. His eyebrow quirked and he moved away from the microscope, experiment momentarily forgotten to move closer to the large window, the only window within the morgue. He watched as yet another streak of intense light hit the side of the hospital wall. Sherlock moved to where he was nose to nose with the window.

The lightening had left behind some sort of energy residue. The wall was streaked with an odd bluish white color.

"Sherlock!" Molly shrieked. "What are you doing by the window, come back! You could be struck!"

Sherlock ignored her concern. "Molly, come look at this."

Sherlock was so engrossed with the storm he did not notice what was happening with his experiment. The heat from the chemicals burning was becoming hot the chemicals were becoming unstable.

"Sherlock…" Molly called

"Molly do stop yammering and come here. "

"Sher…Sherlock…"

It all happened quite suddenly and seemed to happen simultaneously. Just as the chemicals from his experiment exploded, a flash of the odd colored lightning streaked through the glass almost close enough to touch Sherlock, followed by another streak of lightning which exploded the glass and sent Sherlock hurdling backwards. He was vaguely aware that he heard Molly scream before darkness overtook him.

It took Sherlock a few moments to get his baring when he came too. He rubbed his matted hair, sticky with his own blood, away from his eyes.

The lab was eerily quiet and the same strange glow from the lightning had left it residue over the lab, making it seem almost ethereal. Sherlock deduced the experiment had gone wrong, exploded and possibly the containers of chemicals were struck by the lightening.

Sherlock suddenly had a sick feeling at the pit of his stomach. "Molly?" He called out. "Molly!" Sherlock pulled himself to his feet, ignoring the smoke and debris that had been scattered when the bolt hit and the explosion.

"Molly! Where are you?" Sherlock began to become a bit frantic. He started throwing debris around the morgue looking to see if Molly had been buried underneath any of it.

"Molly Hooper answer me!"

"Molly so help me, if this is some kind so joke…" The words died quickly on his lips. He stared down almost in shock, not quite comprehending what he was looking at. On the floor, in front of him, was the outline of a petite female body that had been scorched into the tile.

"Molly?" Sherlock whispered into the quiet darkness, the morgue lit up only by the moon and the particles left behind from the lightening.

John Watson was dozing comfortably at 221 B Baker Street. The book he had been reading was lying loosely in his hand. He was stirred by a chirp coming from his phone.

John Watson groaned and rolled his eyes as he looked at the text.

Come to the morgue at once! SH

Sherlock must be completely off his rocker if he thought that the good doctor would leave the nice warmth of their shared apartment to battle the icy rain and harsh winds. Besides, it was lightening and thundering savagely. John chose to ignore his text and snuggled deeper into his afghan infront of the fire.

The chirp of the text annoyed John, but he pulled his phone back out of his pocket and looked at the text.

Come now damn you! Molly is gone! SH

John sat up slightly alarmed.

What do you mean she's gone? Gone home? JW

Don't be daft! Would I text you here if she had just gone home? She's gone! Something happened to her. Now get up and come at once! I have already summoned Lestrade! SH

John pulled on his shoes and jumped up running out the door. He had been in such a hurry he had forgotten his jacket and umbrella. He passed Mrs. Hudson on the stairs.

"Oh I do wish you boys would stay in tonight. Its frightful weather we are having. There have been strikes of lightening all over the place. John, dear, you've forgotten your coat…John…"

Mrs. Hudson had failed to notice that John was already outside getting into a cab as she talked on.