Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, Steve Moffat, Mark Gatiss own Sherlock and his realm. Gaston Louis Alfred Leroux , Andrew Loyd Webber ,Charles Hart and Richard Stilgoe own The phantom of the opera 's story and musical . I just own my computer,my version of Openoffice, and my sick fantasies. English is not my native language and I don't have a beta reader, so please forgive the mistakes and the typos.

Without further ado...the second chapter ! Enjoy !

Molly sat alone in the little parterre, while Jez approached her "prey" during a pause of the practise . She didn't dare to sneak a peak at the tall man on the stage, so she missed his furtive glances towards her. She was restless in the uncomfortable theater chair, and her fidgeting stopped only when she heard the director's voice booming angrily. " Shit ! This production has the same possibilities to be successful as the Titanic's trip...our Christine ran away with her sugar daddy,and with only a week before the opening night, it's impossible to find a substitute...God, why did I offer her the part ? I knew she was trouble, and her voice was not that good...Ah !". The director threw some papers in the air."I'm sorry guys, but we can't go on...I'm sorry, but that's the end of it"

Molly had only a second to see the smirk on Jez's face, before hearing her say " Well, Molly knows all the songs, and she has a wonderful voice...she will be an amazing Christine !". Why are all my friends so eager to interfere with my life ? Molly groaned, and started to look around, searching for the emergency exit, when she caught Sherlock looking at her. He seemed...curious ? Intrigued ? The director's voice once again interrupted her musings. " Who is Molly ?"

"That girl over there, the one who's trying to sneak off...Molly, come here !" Jez called her, and the pathologist reluctantly complied. Now that she was on the stage, avoiding Sherlock's glances was more difficult. She chose to stay near Jez and her friend/future boyfriend Marc, and ignored him, just to be safe . The director, a short man named Alan, took a look at her, and with a shrug said " Alright, what do you like to sing for us, darling ?"

Molly could feel Sherlock's stare on her, almost challenging her to make a move, and with a boldness that was unusual for her, she placed herself at the center of the stage . " Think of me, please ". The music started, and she closed her eyes, concentrating . For a few minutes there was no Sherlock, no Jez, no strangers around her: only the music, and her voice . Molly was so caught in the moment, that when the song finished, she didn't notice until she heard the first clap, followed by another, until everyone on stage were clapping and complimenting her. She still didn't dare to look at Sherlock, afraid that just one glance could be enough to make her lose her sudden confidence .

" Well, it seems you can sing, better than our former Christine, that's for sure...you're not Sarah Brightman, but none here is West End's material...anyway,let's see if you can do a duet !" . Marc approached her, and gave her a charming smile. " Don't worry, it's going to be fine ". Then the first notes of " All I ask of you " started, and once again she lost herself in the music. Marc's voice was...adequate, but he had stage presence, and with his exotic strong features, he was nice to look at . Finally the song ended, and after a few more praises, the moment she dreaded arrived .

"This is our Phantom...Martin Davenport"

Molly whispered a shy "Hello", but Sherlock didn't reply. He seemed more interested in scrutinizing her appearance - she almost felt naked in her light sundress, it was probably the first time Sherlock had seen her dressed like that, and she was missing the lab coat, like an armor that it could protect her from his inquisitive gaze. The fact that he was so ridiculously ginger didn't change the fact that he was still the same man who had left so many scars on her soul, with a casualness so cruel. Thankfully the song started, and Molly focused on the familiar harmony.

Phantom
Sing once again with me,
Our strange duet.
My power over you,
Grows stronger yet.
And though you turn from me,
To glance behind.
The Phantom of the Opera is there,
Inside your mind.

It was almost bizarre, how his deep baritone voice could covey so much intensity . He walked around her, like a predator intimidating his prey. The words depicted perfectly her situation : Sherlock Holmes, even when he was supposedly dead, was always able to overpower her ; even when she had tried to escape from the memories of him, the fate had made her discover him in a theater in the suburb of Cardiff...

Christine
Those who have seen your face,
Draw back in fear.
I am the mask you wear.

Phantom
It's me they hear.

Both
My/your spirit and my/your voice,
In one combined.
The Phantom of the Opera is there
Inside your/my mind

Their voices merged, and surprisingly for both of them (Molly could see for a moment a flicker of curiosity in his eyes), it was not unpleasant . On the contrary, they were complementary: it was like their voices were made to sing this song together.

Phantom
In all your fantasies
You always knew
That man and mystery

Christine
Were both in you

Yes, Sherlock Holmes was a mystery to her, a puzzle he didn't let anyone try to solve...how many times had she dreamed to finally discover his secrets ? That afternoon, when she told him that she could see him, she had only had a brief preview of the real enigma that the consulting detective was . A man who claimed to not have an heart, and he was ready to make the most generous sacrifice she had ever witnessed, in order to save the lives of the people who loved him.

Both
And in this labyrinth
Where night is blind
The Phantom of the opera is there
Inside your/my mind *

When the song ended, she was surprised to see that she was not the only one almost breathless: Sherlock's breath was laboured, and they were nearer now, so it was impossible for her not to shiver a little at their proximity. Their gaze locked, like they both tried to send the other a secret message...if there's anything I can do, anything you need, anything at all—you can have me. She could hear his words, once again his disbelief so clear in his voice: What could I need from you?

The director interrupted their moment. " We should work on your physical interaction, but...you two have chemistry. I can feel what transpires between you... Amazing, amazing...Molly, the practises are every day, at 9 p.m - could you arrive a little earlier, to try on the stage costumes ?" She just nodded, too stunned to say that she couldn't, that she was in Cardiff only for other two weeks, and it was a mistake...and when she turned to search again for Sherlock, he was gone . Typical .

When Molly and Jez came back home, the pathologist tried to reprimand her impulsive friend, but in vain . "Don't try to deny that you enjoyed yourself on that stage...plus, the Phantom was leering at you, his eyes didn't leave you all night...maybe you could have a little fun and finally start to forget your Mr. Holmes"

" He was never mine, Jez, you know it...but I'm positive that Martin Davenport is not interested in me, at all..."

" If you say so...but enogh about you, what about Marc ? He's gorgeous, isn't he ?"

After half an hour of gossip, Molly was finally ready to go to bed, when her cell phone beeped.

Return to London - MD

She stared at the unfamiliar number and signature for a few minutes, before she realized. MD, Martin Davenport. Sherlock.

I'm going to remain here for another two weeks-MH

The first train available is tomorrow at 10 a.m-MD

Thanks, but no thanks- MH

She found it strangely liberating, being able to answer back, to assert herself, even if only by text .

Then leave the musical -MD

Why ? Is there something wrong with my voice ?-MH

The reply arrived five minutes later - it seemed he was thinking very hard about which words to use.

I always miss something...-MD

Your voice is perfectly adequate, but you need to leave the company anyway-MD

No. You have to tell me why, at least-MH

It's dangerous-MD

Another reason to accept my help, then-MH

Molly was already on the verge of sleep, when Sherlock answered back. One word, but to her, it was more important, full of significance, than a lengthy speech.

Ok-MD

Song (from The Phantom of the Opera)

*The Phantom of the Opera

Let me know what you think, and as always, thank you for reading, reviewing, putting this story in your favorites list! And for the ones that understand the reference in this chapter, virtual cookies and cupcakes !