AN: First, I want to apologize that you all had to read my response to a guest reviewer. It was something that needed to be addressed and could not be done privately since it was a guest reviewer.

Second, I want to thank you all for your reviews and support of this story! You guys are awesome.

Third: This story was only going to be a two or three shot...a sort of precursor to another story that I had in mind about a werewolf. Since this story has been so accepted and people are enjoying it, I have decided to bring the ideas of the other story into this one. The plot is going to become more complex and believe me, you all will have questions after reading this. As the story develops, your questions will be answered :) Besides, who wants to know everything upfront...makes a story boring and predictable. This is an alternative universe story!

Read on fair readers!

Molly awoke the next morning to find herself shackled to Sherlock's bed by her ankle. He was getting dressed.

"What is this?" she asked.

"You have no one to blame but yourself for that Molly," Sherlock said buttoning his shirt. "What choice did I have now that I know you will try to escape?"

"You have no right to do this," she said softly. "You're a bastard…a cold, cruel, hateful bastard."
He stopped buttoning his shirt and looked at her with an unreadable expression. If he was angry at her words, she could not tell. "I hate you," she said.

His eyes flashed so quickly that she could not be sure she had seen anything within them before his expression became blank. "I'm sure you do right now, but that will pass with time."

"If you're going to rape me, just do it so this nightmare will be over," she said choking back a sob.

Again the flash of something unreadable was within his eyes as he sat down on the edge of the bed. "I am not going to violate you. You needn't worry about that. I have already told you repeatedly that…"

Her eyes narrowed and she interrupted him. "Yes that you mean me no harm, but yet you keep me locked up. You have taken me away my family, my friends, and my life. You think this isn't harming me?"

She wiped angrily at her eyes, hating herself for crying in front of him. Before he could say anything else, he heard a knock at the front door and it opened.

"Sherlock," John called out stepping inside.

"I'm in the bedroom," Sherlock answered getting up from the bed.

John made his way down the hallway and walked into the bedroom. His eyes instantly fell on Molly and he was horrified to see her chained like some animal.

"What in the hell are you doing Sherlock," he snapped angrily moving to sit beside Molly. "Take this bloody thing of her now!"

"I would if she would behave," Sherlock said with a unconcerned expression.

"Sherlock…" John hissed. "Take this shackle of her now."

"He won't because he is little more than an animal himself," Molly spat. "Nothing more than a cruel, hateful beast."

Sherlock whirled around and glared at her, his face etched with his anger. "I have no interest in keeping you locked away," he said angrily. "You think I enjoy having this thing inside of me, stirring feelings within me that are not my own and are so foreign to me that often times, I feel as if I cannot breathe? You think I enjoy having no control over my own thoughts and desires? If you wish for this to be over, than offer him willingly what he wants from you."

"W-what," she whispered.

"I said if you want your freedom, offer yourself to him, and maybe he will let you go once he's had you," Sherlock sneered.

"SHERLOCK," John shouted standing.

"You're despicable," she said with a trembling voice.

Sherlock's face softened instantly and he swallowed hard. He started to turn from her, but didn't. He stepped towards her, "Forgive me Molly. I…that was a disgusting thing to say and I didn't mean it…forgive me."

John blinked in surprise as he stared at his longtime friend. Apologizing was something that Sherlock rarely if ever bothered with. "Um…will you excuse us Molly," he asked grabbing Sherlock's arm and pulling him into the hallway.

"This has to stop now Sherlock. You cannot keep her here. It is wrong and inconceivable to me that you would even agree to do this. Let her go and let me take her home."

When Sherlock didn't answer John sighed, "What is this about? I refuse to believe it has anything to do with you being a wolf." John stepped closer to him. "Sherlock, tell me what is going on."

Sherlock's expression became deadly serious. "She knows what I am John. Do you have any idea what that means? If she were to mention it to one person, if it were to slip out and the others found out…"

"So…there is more to this, much, much more," John said. "Well why didn't you say so instead of making me think you had gone of your rocker or that you were some sort of kidnapper? So does the wolf even want her?"

Sherlock nodded. "Unfortunately for her, he does."

"You say unfortunate, why," John asked. "You have already told me that you have no desire to hurt her."

"Because I have no real intention of letting this go any further. It is a constant battle that I have with the wolf. I will never allow a union between myself and Molly, not ever."

"Why should you care what the wolf wants if you don't want the same thing," John asked.

"Because we are one, the wolf and I, we work in harmony together in everything except this. He desires a life mate, someone to have children with, and grow old with. I care nothing for that. My work is my life, my mate, and my reward. My mind cannot become clouded with sentiment and it has already become clouded. It became clouded the first moment I laid eyes on her."

"I don't think you need worry about that, she hates you," John said before his eyes lit up and he stared incredulously at his friend. "Oh my God…you bloody liar! You fucking wanker! You've said it was the wolf the whole time, but it hasn't been. You took her because you wanted to make her hate you…hate the wolf…you wanted her afraid of you and disgusted by you! You're afraid that she might come to accept the wolf and God forbid to love you!" John started laughing. "You bloody coward! You don't want to have to deal with the possible affections of a young woman who is attracted to you."

Sherlock's eyes narrowed. "Don't be ridiculous John."

John shook his head. "But surely you see this is extreme. Sherlock, you are an idiot. Kidnapping her is only going to traumatize her, not necessarily make her loathe you. Give me the key to that damn shackle and let's get her home."

Sherlock's jaw clenched. "No," he whispered.

John stared at him a moment. "What else are you not telling me?"

"Nothing you need worry about."

"I am your friend Sherlock," John began, "If something else is going on, I want to help."

Sherlock did not answer him as he turned away.

"Sherlock, you mentioned a fear of her telling someone about you…you mentioned the others…has something already happened?"

"I received a letter from my brother this morning requesting that I come and see him. He said it was most urgent. He designated a place of secrecy to meet. My brother would not do that if something had not already begun."

"Something with the council," John asked with anxiety.

Sherlock nodded.

"Sherlock, did someone ask you to take her?"

"I don't want to involve you anymore than I have to John, it is too dangerous. Just take care of her ankle and go. Trust me when I say that she will be kept safe."

"Oh no you don't," John snapped. "You are not going to shut me out. You will tell me what in the hell is going on here. Who told you to take her?"

Sherlock took John's arm and pulled him into the living room. He motioned for John to sit down and he did. "Alright John, I'll tell you. You will know about it soon enough. I was asked to take her. The night that she came into the woods, I was told that she would be there. She had gone to see a play with a few friends. I was going to take her as she left, but she did me a favor by deciding to take a short cut through the woods."

"How did you know she would be there? Who told you?"

"Mycroft told me. He has been having her followed at the request of her father," Sherlock said pouring himself a drink.

"Sherlock are you telling me that Mycroft asked you to do this?"

Sherlock drank the whiskey in one gulp. He looked at John and smiled. "No, I am telling you that her father asked me to take her."

Hope you enjoyed! Thanks for reading! Hugs and love!