AN: Still don't own anything... And did you figure out that I like cliff hangers yet?
Chapter 3
The door flew open with a bang and James Moriarty walked in carrying his jacket on a coat hanger in his left hand. "Hello my dear. Have a nice nap?" He said as he closed the door behind him and hung the jacket on the knob. "Forgive the coat, but the closet up front was full. How have you been Molly dear? Long time no see." Moriarty said sitting down across from Molly.
Molly rolled her eyes, "You kidnap me in the middle of the night. Leave the world believing that you've been dead for about a year now, when obviously you are alive and well, and that Sherlock Holmes is a fraud. And yet you ask me how I am now that my world's been turned upside down again and I'm tied to a rather uncomfortable chair? Hum?"
Moriarty laughed, "Yes, well I suppose I did do that now didn't I dear? But if you're truly uncomfortable in that chair I will release you, but don't try to run. I assume you know enough about me that you would heed that warning." Molly was released and she immediately started pacing about the room, "Why am I here anyway Jim?" she finally asked. "Well my dear, you are here because I want you to be; as well as the fact that you are going to help me catch a Kraken." Jim stated simply as he resumed his seat .
"A Kraken?" Molly repeated with eyebrows raised.
"Yes. Metaphorically of course, but nevertheless, a Kraken. "
Just then a bell rang from some far off place, causing Jim to rise from his chair. "I must leave you here, perhaps I can arrange more suitable quarters seeing as you do not seem content in here. For the time being, make yourself comfortable. Till then my dear!" He whipped his coat off of the door knob with a flourish, blew Molly a kiss and exited. Molly groaned and sat down in the chair formerly occupied by Moriarty to ponder what this 'Kraken' could be.
In the meantime, John was digging out everything he could of Sherlock's old notes on how to track down mobiles in this city that was crawling with them. Why do I bother? John thought for the millionth time, Sherlock's handwriting was illegible and was literally written in a code that only he could have read. John was at a loss as to how to rescue Molly. He had taken a cab over to her flat, only to find no answer to the bell and neighbors who hadn't seen her since yesterday. "Oh Sherlock, where are you when I need you?" John whispered as he gazed out the widow, wondering how the hell he was going to solve this case.
