"He watched Glee with you, honestly?"
"He even knew the words."
The Engineer laughed. "I wished I could have seen it. I knew he liked to dance. I once saw him dancing around a room. It was hilarious. There was this pool of blood, and he slid right through it… oh, pardon me. This probably isn't the best topic for dinner conversation."
"No, I don't think so." Molly said looking suspiciously at the pool around her steak.
"I hope it isn't too early to talk business. Sherlock's last idea is working like a dream. Who would have thought that wrapping the drugs in foil paper like candy would make it more desirable. Branding works. I don't know why we hadn't thought of it before? So, how is Sherlock doing? Any better?"
"Actually, I'm afraid he's worse. He has an infection. His wound went untreated for quite a long time before I finally got the correct medicine to fight it. I'm going to need some more antibiotics."
"Antibiotics. I'll see to it. Ivana, brandy."
Ivana brought a decanter over and poured a bit into his glass. Molly took the opportunity to stretch.
"Is your chair uncomfortable? I can get you another"
"No, it's just my back. It's stiff. Sleeping on the floor can do that to you."
"You shouldn't have to sleep on the floor."
"You took the couch. Where do you think I should sleep? On the desk?"
"I only meant, that the bed is quite big enough for two."
Molly imagined it. Taking off her clothes. Lying next to Sherlock on the bed. His bare legs touching hers. His shirt open as he turned his head on the pillow to look into her eyes.
"The floor is fine, unless you'd care to give me back the couch."
The Engineer wiped his mouth. "Molly, can we talk frankly."
"What about?"
"About taking advantage of the opportunities you are offered."
"What do you mean? What opportunities?"
"You asked me once what I was willing to give you for your services."
"Yes, and you said that you would give me what I needed to keep Sherlock alive."
"I know, that seemed heartless at the time, but I didn't feel that you were ready for me to tell you what I am really offering you."
"What are you offering me?"
"Sherlock Holmes."
"You already told me that. You'll give me medicine..."
"No, I'm not talking about his body. I'm offering you his heart."
"What?"
"It's what you really want. What you have been wanting all this time, the love of Sherlock Holmes, and I can help you get it."
"What are you talking about? I never said I wanted..."
"Of course you did. It's obvious that you admire his body. You want him, but even the great Irene Adler failed to bed him. Moriarty used to call him, The Virgin. He said that he must have known that with his addictive personality, once he allowed himself to indulge in his passions, he would never be able to stop.
"You've had every opportunity to turn away and look for easier prey, but you kept returning, doing him favors until he asked you for the biggest favor of all, to help him fake his death. It is incredibly risky. You could lose your job. You could lose your life. That's why I know that it is his love you want, not just sex. It is your greatest desire, and I will give it to you, if you will give your loyalty to me, instead of him."
As Molly walked slowly down the steps to return to the room, she though of what The Engineer had told her. Of how the couch, the missing door, the delayed medicines, even her upstairs meals had all been part of the plan. Everything that had happened so far had been done to make Sherlock dependent on her.
"Love doesn't come in a vacuum," he'd said. "Do you think that Sherlock Holmes would even have talked to you if he hadn't needed your help? I can make sure that he needs you. The only way that he will get the care he needs will be through you. You will feed his body and give him work to feed his mind. You will mend his injuries. Any desire he wants will be channeled through you. Any luxury he gets will be given by you. You will be there to help him dress, help him bathe, share his bed. I can keep him close to you. Soon, he may even get jealous of your time with me. He will ask you about your feelings for me. Then, it will only be a matter of time before he admits his affection for you."
"And what happens if I don't cooperate with you?"
"He has to be planning his escape by now. If you escape, he will leave you behind and go his own way. Perhaps he will die. In either case, you will never have him, and he will never want you."
"I don't want him to want me."
"Liar! I can see the way you flush just thinking about it. And it has already begun. Even now he is growing more dependent on you. He wouldn't let anyone touch him before, but you can touch him with ease. If I am not mistaken, he has already offered to share his bed with you, and if you play your cards right, you could be his first. Or he could escape, and remain The Virgin, leaving you forever unfulfilled."
Molly covered her face, but he put his arm on her shoulder and whispered into her ear.
"All I ask is that you tell me how he plans to escape. Only that. Tell me, and I will make sure that you can keep him close all of the time. I am your true ally. Don't let your pride stand in the way of true love."
Molly entered the room and found Sherlock drawing on a sheet of paper. He smiled up at her, and began animatedly talking about his plans. She noticed then how different he was from the rude and guarded man he used to be with her.
"Molly, come and see! I have a plan for the Moroccan gun runner. Since he refuses to give them the information until he is safely back in Morocco, we make him believe he is in Morocco. They build a box. Inside it is dressed exactly like his headquarters in Morocco. Then, once he's given them the information, it falls apart."
Sherlock showed her a folded paper box. He touched one side and it fell flat.
"A simple push at the right wall and the entire structure will fall down revealing that he's still in London! With the threat of retaliation looming, he will have no choice but to cooperate. What do you think? It's Amazing, right! Molly, you're supposed to be agreeing with me. Molly, did something go wrong? He did buy the story about me having an infection didn't he? Molly?"
"I'm fine, Sherlock. Nothing's wrong, I just… I need to clean up a bit, can you look away while I change?"
Sherlock waved his hand idly and looked back down at his plans. Molly went in the bathroom and washed her face. In the mirror, she could see Sherlock smiling to himself. The Engineer was right. He would let her sleep in his bed if she asked. She knew that he would. She would have to make a point never to ask.
She took a sheet and pillow and went to the furthest corner of the room to sleep, but every time she closed her eyes, she imagined Sherlock touching her, holding her, wanting her. No matter how hard she denied it, she couldn't escape her selfish heart.
