Hello you lovely lovely readers! Thank you so much for your continued support, it's always great to hear from you. I'm sorry I'm averaging about a week per chapter at the moment but I am really busy with work and I have a husband that I'm trying really hard not to neglect too haha!

Chapter 9

"Moved out of the house, so you moved next door
I locked you out, you cut a hole in the wall
I found you sleeping next to me, I thought I was alone
You're driving me crazy, when are you coming home?"

-Laid by James

Molly did her best to adjust to normal life again but somehow she didn't seem to fit into it anymore, she felt like a 33 year old trying to squeeze back into her school uniform, uncomfortable and ridiculous. It wasn't that ordinary life had lost its colour; it was that it never had any colour in the first place and she'd been given a mere glimpse of Technicolor, a two year glimpse in fact and the staring character was James Moriarty.

She had considered counselling, she knew it wasn't mentally healthy to long for a man who stole you away from your life and kept you as his pet. She knew full well it wasn't right to dream of him most nights and be drawn instinctively to every man who wore the same aftershave as him, and yet she couldn't bring herself to exorcise the demon, she didn't want to forget Jim, she didn't want to let go of what they had, regardless of how wrong it was.

He had left an indelible mark on her, her body told of beatings she had taken for him, the scar of a bite on her shoulder sat there smugly day after day, his signature labelling her as his. Other lovers would have to look upon that mark when they were with her, as she made do with them and lied to herself that they could in some way compare to him.

Molly made vain attempts to reclaim herself, she spent an obscene amount of money on new clothes, mothballing her cardigans and shapeless blouses and replacing them with skinny jeans and dresses that showed her modest curves. She even had her hair cut into a more flattering style; it hung just past her shoulders now and had much more body. Yet when she looked in the mirror to assess the results it was Jim's voice in her head, "Look at you, Molly 2.0! Very nice, Daddy's pleased!"

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Jim was used to being ahead of the game; nothing got the better of him, ever. For as long as he could remember things had to be on his terms, if Jim couldn't control it he put an end to it, whatever the cost. Molly was only ever supposed to be a convenience to him, and more importantly her absence an inconvenience to Sherlock Holmes. His initial plan was to steal away Sherlock's little lab rat and impede his work. Without access to the morgue and all the favours that Molly so willingly threw his way, his cases wouldn't be half as easy to solve and his reputation would be all the easier to ruin.

Sherlock had always underestimated Molly, she barely even showed up on his radar except for when he wanted something, but Jim could see her uses. She had a good knowledge of anatomy, she could offer insights on the most efficient and inconspicuous methods of ending someone's life. Of course she wasn't keen on sharing such titbits with him in the early days, but towards the end of their liaison she'd merrily rattled off all kinds of insightful facts whilst resting in his arms content as a kitten, usually in a post coital haze.

It wasn't meant to turn out this way. She wasn't supposed to grow on him, hell he'd never even thought it possible. Jim regarded all ordinary people with the same distain; it enabled him to see them as a commodity and end their sorry little existences whenever it aided his plans. But over time, Molly ceased to be ordinary…and it troubled him.

He had known for a while that he was indulging himself, he'd broken her spirit long ago, torn her down and rebuilt her as someone new. The fear had long since disappeared from her eyes, replaced with something softer; he wasn't used to being looked at like that, though he couldn't say he didn't like it. Despite his better judgment he had grown accustom to her warmth and acceptance and so he found himself telling her things, things he'd never told anyone.

All of this meant one thing, it gave Molly power. Power over him, and he couldn't have that.

The days they spent together while he was recovering from the measles and more to the point the days he wasted pretending to still be recovering, just for the love of her company, were the final straw. Like ripping off a plaster, it would hurt for a second but she'd just have to go.

But it hurt for more than a second; the sting of her leaving wouldn't go away. Jim ordered cameras be put up in Molly's flat just so that he could watch her, at the same time paying his men a small fortune to track her whereabouts. Of course none of them dare question him but as the weeks turned into months there were murmurs amongst the ranks that the boss was just stalking this woman because he was sweet on her. Jim ordered Sabastian to kill a few of them just for being right.

Seb followed Jim's orders dutifully and to the letter, more often than not he did so without query. This however was not one of those occasions, "Boss…" Sebastian's eyes narrowed, wondering if he was about to make a grave mistake.

"Yes dear?" Jim looked up from his laptop, the glow from the screen lighting his features in a rather unsettling way.

"…why are we stalking this Hooper woman? There doesn't seem to be any reason to it? It's taking up resources, you know?" As hard as he tried Sebastian couldn't make his query sound anything but accusatory.

In an instant Jim's back was up, "I AM NOT STALKING HER!" he pressed his thumb and forefinger together and placed emphasis on the word `stalking', it clearly offended him so.

"HAVE YOU GOTTEN SO COMFORTABLE THAT YOU THINK YOU CAN QUESTION MY MOTIVES?! YOU'RE NOT IRRIPLACABLE, AND YOU SHOULD KNOW BY NOW THAT I DON'T GET RID OF EMPLOYEES BY HANDING THEM THEIR P45! I SINCERELY SUGGEST YOU KEEP YOUR QUESTIONS TO YOURSELF IN FUTURE! THIS IS FAIR WARNING; WATCH YOURSELF MORAN!" Jim's anger was like a tidal wave, it was almost as though the spite and malice radiating off him had a spirit of its own and Jim was a mere vessel for it, such was its ferocity.

Stepping back cautiously, head bowed like a schoolboy being scolded in front of the whole class Sebastian nodded, he had borne the brunt of Jim's temper many times but he'd also become accustomed to some preferential treatment over the years too. He had dared to think of himself as the closest thing that Jim had to a friend. Maybe it was that notion that lead him to dare to say what he said next, "Understood. I better get off anyway; your Miss Hooper has a date."

And with that revelation Sebastian made his exit, his legs barely able to carry him down the office staircase quick enough, if he could reach the ground floor without Jim putting a bullet in the back of his skull he would probably live to see another day.

Instead Jim stood perfectly still, staring at the spot where Sebastian had been just moments before.

A date? Suddenly the world was whirring around him, there was a feeling of dread pooling in his stomach the likes of which he'd not felt for many years. For so long Jim had placed such little value on everything and everyone around him that emotions were more or less redundant. Nothing was irreplaceable and everyone could be bought, you just had to name the right price and offer the correct currency.

But Molly Hooper, she suddenly seemed priceless.

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Molly stared wistfully at the brain in the lab bucket, weighing it and dutifully noting down its credentials, she lingered on the lifeless grey matter a few moments longer, wondering if it was the result of Jim's handy work. She was shaken from her thoughts by the buzz of her phone receiving a text message. Thwacking the latex gloves off her hands, she fumbled in her lab coat for her phone.

*Hey! It's Tom, from Alistair's 30th last week. I was the gangly one with the scarf lol! Hope you don't mind, got your number off Al. Wondered if you might like to go for coffee sometime? xx*

Molly blinked a few times at the screen, considering Tom's proposition. She recalled him instantly, he'd been more or less the only person to speak to her at the party, apart from the few cursory, `How are you?' and, `You must tell me about Sudan, back in a moment!' that people threw her way when they thought they had to be polite.

He was about her age, not bad looking, funny in a goofy kind of way and he was right; he was gangly. But still, there was something warm and familiar about Tom that she couldn't quite put her finger on, she had found herself fond of him for no reason at all, before he even spoke she thought, "I like you". He didn't set her blood flowing or cause her to choke on her words at the sound of his accent…no nothing like that, but he was a comforting brand of boring and maybe that was just what she needed right now.

For a second Jim's words echoed through her mind, "If you do this with me, you won't be doing it with anyone else ever again. I won't share you." Just the recollection of his caution made her tingle, but her memories of Jim weren't all as delicious as that one. She tried her hardest to banish the image of him tossing a holdall in her general direction and throwing her out like a whore, with steely, defiant resolve she began to text back.

*Tom! Hi, great to hear from you! Sure, coffee would be lovely. When's good for you? Molly x*

The date itself was quite unremarkable; they huddled in the corner of a faceless chain coffee shop, their polite, sterile conversation being punctuated by the odd gust of steam from the milk frother. Tom droned on about his parents golden retriever as Molly zoned out, her eyes focused on a little girl, no more than about three years old, throwing herself on the floor in the most violent manner because he mother wouldn't give her more chocolate. Molly felt an affinity with the child, `Poor thing, I know what that feels like…I wish I could throw myself on the floor too' she thought.

"Earth to Molly! Sorry, was I going on about Jasper again? I do that!" Tom waved a hand in front of Molly's glazed face, dragging her eyes away from the girl on the floor.

"Oh God! No, I'm so sorry, I was just…distracted." she stumbled out her apology in the most gushing way she could muster; people expected that of her, bumbling Molly Hooper.

"No no, it's fine. Perhaps we should go somewhere a bit quieter next time, ay? Somewhere with an age restriction…that is if you want there to be a next time?" Tom's question was delivered with the slightest hint of self-assurance.

God he reminded her of someone...who was it?

Put on the spot Molly returned to her default setting of awkward compliance, "Next time? Oh yes, right, of course! I'd like that. That is, if you'd like that too?"

Chuckling at her mishmash of an acceptance Tom grinned back at her, "I know a wonderful little Italian place, it's not far from Barts, do you fancy dinner? Next week - maybe?"

Molly's internal monologue was working overtime, bombarding her with questions she didn't know the answers to ,"What are you doing? Why are you bothering? Is this what you want? What about Jim?"

Putting on her best excited expression Molly nodded enthusiastically, "Sounds lovely!"