Hello, this is the Queen speaking.

Sorry this one is late, I didn't have much time for writing today.

I promised bad ass Molly and I will give it to you. We got Dr Hooper doing some Prison Break shit up in here! No Jim in this one sorry but hey, he'll be back with a vengeance.

Disclaimer: not mine. Motffis.

...

Sherlock sat shotgun, Greg drove and Donovan and John sat in the back. Infront of them were two other cars filled Mycroft's men and behind were three cars filled with Lestrade's. Sherlock had pulled out all the stops. Homeless network, British government, New Scotland Yard, hell, he had even called in with Bart to get ready for the inevitable blood bath.

His hands trembled in his lap. What if it's too late... What if I can't save her this time... As much as he tried to control his emotions he couldn't help but shake. He felt a hand on his shoulder. For a few moments he tried to ignore it, knowing John wouldn't mind. He was used to Sherlock being in his Mind Palace so would just brush it off as nothing. But when a voice called out to him he had to look back. The hand was in fact not John's, but Donovan's.

"Frea- ... Sherlock, you need to calm down. We'll get him, I promise." To his surprise, Donovan had spoken to him in a soft voice, almost comforting, pitying.

"It's not exactly Moriarty I'm that worried about..." A silence hung thick in the air. Sherlock could practically feel the air being sucked up between teeth as everyone in the care reeled in a rigid breath. He knew he had struck a nerve in John and Greg, they were both ridiculously over protective of the small pathologist, but Donovan's reaction caught him by surprise. Her hand tightened on his shoulder and a small tear pricked at her eye. Normally Sherlock would have deduced her in a second, finding the reason behind her reaction in a flash, but he found himself unable to. It was at this point Sherlock realized how tired he was, emotionally and physically.

"She will be okay, Sherlock. I swear! We will get to her in time." She squeezed his shoulder once more before releasing him and sitting back in her seat. Sherlock regarded her for a moment, her own emotions confusing his. She isn't a friend of Molly's. She doesn't even really know her at all! Why is it okay for her to cry and not me! If it should be okay for any of us to shed a tear it should be me! I'm the one close to her! I am her friend! I'm the one who's in lo-

His eyes snapped forward and he stared at the road ahead. What was that? He shook his head and rubbed his eyes. He took in a breath and let it out slowly, letting it pace through his teeth. Sentiment! His mind hissed at him, sounding surprisingly like Mycroft. It's useless. Pointless. It will only slow you down. Wasn't it you who once said that sentiment was a chemical defect in the losing side? Sherlock shook his head again, trying to ride himself of his scrutinizing subconscious.

A voice on the car's police radio kicked him violently out of his thoughts.

"Detective Inspecter? "

"Yes? What is it?"

"We're nearing on the house, how would you like us to proceed? "

Greg turned his head to Sherlock, questioning.

"All you now Sherlock."

Sherlock picked up the radio with a shaking hand, his mouth suddenly dry. He clicked his thumb over the transmitter and spoke. He told all that were listening his plan, and hopefully all that were listening were paying attention. Cause there was alot. Hold tight Molly...I'm coming to get you.

...

Her right foot was in agony again. When Molly had first lifted it up to test her distance from the surgical trolleys in her cell the pain had died down to a minimum, but after an hour of strain, the pain had started to return with a fury. I just need to snag my toe on the edge and pull it forward. That isn't so hard... so why can't I do it?

"Come on!" She muttered under her breath. Her toe yet again snagged the edge but as she tried to pull the trolley closer her foot skidded and she lost her grip. Again. "Damn it!"

The sun was already starting to set. In her relief at a chance of escape she had lost track of time, and now Molly had barley an hour to cut herself free. Her toe slipped into place again and she pulled. The trolley started to move towards her. She let out a laugh of relief before slamming how mouth shut. Stupid! What if someone heard me! God...

She pulled trolley foreward until it was close enough for her to comfortably reach the trays. The tools on the trays ranged from saws to BDSM toys, all of which, disgustingly, looked regularly used. Deciding carefully and quickly, Molly picked up a saw and pushed the trolley back to where it had been. If someone does come in and catch me, I can hide this under the mattress and pretend like nothing ever happened.

The sun was still going down. Molly began to saw at her rope, which she found surprisingly difficult with bound wrists. Slowly but surely the rope snapped and she was free from the ceiling hook.

Next she turned the saw on her left handcuff. She worked away at the leather, praying that it would break. It did, but not before she sliced the saw across her wrist, releasing a surprised yelp of pain.

Instantly she regreted it. As soon as she had yelled she heard footsteps running towards her. In a panicked hurry Molly ran to the stairs and stood at one side of them, her chest heaving up and down with her agitated breaths. She heard the door click, and the footsteps started to descend. She held the saw close to her, gripping the handle firmly, ignoring the sering pain of both her foot and hand. The footsteps got closer. She peaked down to see a smart business shoe touch the floor of her cell.

She swung round at the intruder, saw in hand, but they were quicker. The intruder grabbed hold of her wrist and wrenched the saw from her hands. They kept hold of her wrists as she tried to struggle away, but their voice brought Molly to a halt.

"Molly! Shhh, it's okay, it's okay!"

Molly looked up into the intruder's face. Tall and lean. Dark, curly hair. Sharp cheekbones. Piercing blue eyes.

"Sherlock?"

...

Woo hoo! Sherlock finally has Molly safely in his hands, but will he be able to get out with her all in one piece?

A/N I've always thought that Donovan isn't nice to Sherlock not because she doesn't like him, but because she does, and she doesn't want to get involved because she is too worried about getting hurt, whether by deduction or something else I will leave you to decide.

Thanks for reading and reviewing.