Lestrade hurried up the steps of 221B two at a time.
"Sherlock!" He exclaimed, bursting into the flat.
"What do you want inspector?" Sherlock asked, clearly annoyed.
"Just read this." He held his phone out to the detective.
"Can't. Very busy." Sherlock replied.
John took the phone from Lestrade and read the text.
"Oh my God. Sherlock, it's Molly."
At the mention of their pathologist friend, Sherlock snatched the phone away from John.
"What could Moriarty possibly want with Molly?" John said, half to himself.
Sherlock tossed the phone back to Lestrade. "Everyone gets bored John."
"Will you help?" Lestrade demanded again.
Sherlock responded by picking up his violin and starting to play.
"Sherlock!" John shouted. "Are you just going to let her die?!"
The consulting detective rolled his eyes and stopped playing. "He won't kill her until Lestrade's there to witness it. Moriarty won't be that difficult to trace if he wants you to find him. Even the police could do it. And I suppose they're smart enough to come up with a plan to rescue Molly. I'm not needed."
Lestrade was shocked, but John was fuming.
"After all she's done for you?! You're just going to sit back and hope that Lestrade will find her in time?!" The inspector was too worried about his fiancée to take offence. Sherlock ignored John and went back to his instrument. The two men stared at him in disbelief.
The army doctor broke the silence. "Well alright then. Come on inspector." He said, grabbing his coat. "It's going to be a long day."
John headed out the door. Lestrade gave Sherlock one last look before following.
As soon as Sherlock saw the pair get into a cab and drive away, he grabbed his coat and scarf.
"Mrs. Hudson I'm going out for a bit!" He yelled to his landlady.
"Alright dear." She replied.
Sherlock had only been to the Diogenes Club once before, years ago.
"And what, little brother, could be so important that you've come to me for help?"
"Molly Hooper."
That whipped the smirk off Mycroft's face. He'd always had a soft spot for the woman who had helped Sherlock for all these years. Though his feelings for her went nothing beyond the utmost respect.
"What's happened?" He asked, taking a seat at his desk.
"Moriarty kidnapped her."
"And what would you like me to do?" Mycroft asked sincerely. He wanted to help his brother with this one in any way that he could.
"I want you to arrange a jet for me."
"To go where?"
"Florence."