A sickeningly familiar face greeted Molly at the door. Fear and panic struck her as she gasped at his return. He cocked his head to the side with a loud and revolting click of the neck as if snapping the vertebras in half. "Surprise, surprise. Moll-eh." He taunted, dragging out her name like a death sentence.
She stumbled backwards, throwing the door to close with a new found force but he caught it with his hand, pushing it slowly back open taking a step into her home.
"Now that wasn't very nice Molly. Some may even say it was rude!" He roared the last word, showing his unpredictable nature and in turn making her shrivel and cringe away from him.
"You know I must thank you for playing a part in my little game, you did awfully well not letting on that you knew I was alive and even when Sherlock grasped the concept you kept up the pretence. Bra-vo. But alas, sweet Molly, your part in this has not concluded. I just need one more thing from you, and no." He held his hand up to her to stop her from speaking. "You don't get a say in any of this. Apologies, dear, for you must understand that you are merely a pawn in this game of chess that Sherlock and I play. And we all know what pawns are for - don't we?" Moriarty paused, leaning in far too closely to Molly, expectantly waiting for an answer but she remained mute. "No? Don't know? Well let me teach you little mousy Molly. Pawns. Are. For. Sacrifices. They must die to win the game." With that she knew her fate was sealed.
Suddenly she heard someone coming up the stairs. Moriarty locked the door quickly and took a gun out of his left breast pocket, holding it expertly aimed at the door. They both remained still, Molly knew that she would endure a torturous death if she spoke out now.
Two sharp knocks came from the other side of her door. "Miss Hooper, we are to report your safety to Mr Holmes." One of the guard's stated remaining outside.
Moriarty shot her an intimidating stare that silently told her to choose a correct answer.
"Tell Mr Holmes that I am perfect." She said trying to cover up her shaky voice.
After a moment's pause they heard the guard turn and retreat downstairs.
"Well well, Mr Holmes, sounds awfully kinky doesn't it?"
"You leave Sherlock out of this." She warned.
"Why? He's the only reason you're still alive my sweet, but not for long." He sang as he gripped her swan like neck tightly and held her at his mercy, a knife glinting in the light menacingly as it came into her view.
Sherlock was waiting rather impatiently back at 221b in his favourite chair, hands pressed together and situated against his lips and under his nose as he used the fire that crackled and licked the wood to lull him into a trance state. His phone was placed carefully on the coffee table infront of him, within arm's reach.
He had calculated that Mary's was not far away from Molly's as she had decided to walk there and the maximum walking distance for a woman in high heels of Mary's age, height, and weight was about thirty minutes.
He then calculated the time that is would take Mary to leave Molly's additional minutes for goodbyes and such and then once more for the guards to walk to her apartment and back additional minutes added for delays.
Within this time he expected a call that informed him that Molly was still safe.
The minutes went by agonisingly slow, he found it almost unbearable to wait this long with any sign that she was alright. Nothing. Just silence that deafened around him, taunting him regarding his wait ahead of him. He shifted his body weight around hoping to relief some boredom, drummed his fingers, then his toes, made a cup of tea and finally resorted to filing through his mind palace.
Little over half an hour had passed and if Mary's house was in the thirty minute range then he may have to wait another thirty minutes before the guards were back with Moll. He suddenly realised that if this were to be true Molly would have been left only for an hour without supervision, mentally kicking himself for giving Molly permission to do this.
But Molly Hooper was his weakness, he had realised this almost too late. His brain hit him in waves of memories of his last living conversation with Molly before he became a dead man walking.
In that moment, when she saw everything he had hidden so well, she saw him as a different man. She saw through his façade and stared deep within him at his fears and vulnerabilities, as if he were a child again. At the moment he was not the Sherlock Holmes everyone else knew, not to her and in that moment he had realised that she had won. That she will always win.
From then on he had planned to keep her by his side whatever the risks.
The phone burst into life, withdrawing him from his thoughts.
"Yes?" He answered the phone expectantly.
"She said she is fine Mr. Holmes."
"Details. I need exact words." He scorned.
"She said exactly. 'Tell Mr. Holmes that I am perfect."
Sherlock thought for a moment as the words sunk in, horror washed over him. His hands curling into balls, his blood boiling as he realised what she meant by her words. He once again had failed to give her credit, realising just how clever Molly Hooper really was and once again he might be too late to tell her of her magnificence.
Hi everyone, sorry it's mean a little while; I went to London and didn't take my computer. Also sorry this is a little short but oh well. Please review and tell me if it needs improvements or if you liked it! Also favourite and follow :) Hope you enjoy reading the story and carry on to do so :)