Hey guys! First of all, I am so sorry it has taken me this long to upload a new chapter. Finals week is upon me, so the past few weeks have been crazy busy. But here it is! A shorter chapter but hopefully worth the wait. I'm hoping to upload another chapter soon to make up for my slight lag. Thanks everyone who has stuck with me for ten chapters!

*Disclaimers still apply.

The first thing Molly was aware of was the dull pain in her head. The next thing she was aware of was that she was still in her pajamas, and in a very comfortable bed. She sat up quickly, hoping everything had been a bad dream and she was back in Sherlock's bed. Her head throbbed at her sudden movement, but she tried to ignore it. Her surroundings were completely new to her. It looked like she was in a very fancy, sparsely decorated hotel room with an admittedly great view of the city. Far too fancy a place to take a kidnapping victim. Her head spun. She wasn't even sure what had happened. She remembered yelling and then a pain in her head and then nothing.

She jumped at the sound of the door opening, bracing herself for whoever might walk through.

"Jim?" she asked incredulously, although at the same time some of her memories became a little clearer. She'd been yelling at Jim. He'd wanted her to come back. Why had she been with Jim? Had she been that mad at Sherlock?

"Molly, darling, how is your head? Do you need anything? Moran will be right up with your breakfast. You've been out all night, I was worried."

"What happened to me? Where are we?"

"Let's call it my vacation home. Isn't it lovely?" Jim spread his hands out, gesturing at the place, "As for you, you called me. You said something about a fight and I came straight over to see you."

"No, no I didn't call you," Molly said, remembering more. "I- I fought with Sherlock and then you were just there. How did you know I was there? Where's Sherlock? I need to talk to him."

"He knows where you are, Molly dear. We left a note on his counter saying that you had fallen and hit your head and were being taken care of at this address," Jim lied easily.

"How long has it been?"

"We got here yesterday evening and now its 10 o'clock in the morning. You apparently haven't been missed."

"I don't believe you," Molly paused, remembering more, "you wanted me to come back with you, and I said no! This isn't your apartment Jim, why the hell am I here?" Her head was throbbing and she laid back against the pillows, trying not to let her rage subside. But she felt so tired. Maybe if she went to sleep this situation would sort itself out by the time she woke up. Yeah, that sounded like a great idea…

Jim grinned as Molly slipped back into her deep sleep. In a few more hours, Seb would have to come up and give her another dose to keep her sedated. In the meantime, Jim had to go check on Sherlock. He'd solved the first case predictably well, since it really hadn't been that much of a mystery and the police were just too lazy to pursue other avenues.

It was 10:00 the morning after Sherlock had solved the Stoner case, and still no notes or word from the mysterious kidnappers. The police had not found anything at Sherlock's place, which did not come as a surprise.

What scared Sherlock the most was how much fun he had had solving the mystery yesterday. His brain was usually racing, always wanting answers to any mundane problem he could think of. At least this way, someone was giving him a problem to solve.

Sherlock thought about how he might be able to go into police work, and then laughed at the thought. He knew there'd be no place for him there.

His phone dinged, cutting off his train of thought.

"Ask that policeman of yours if Mr. St. Simon knows where your Molly might be."

Sherlock was puzzled. He didn't know any Mr. St. Simon. He dialed Lestrade, who was shocked upon hearing the name.

"How in the hell does he know about St. Simon? Damn it! We've only just found out and been told to keep it hushed up."

"What's happened?"

"An incident involving a state senator. Come down to the station and I'll tell you about it."

Sherlock agreed, telling Lestrade to call John before hanging up. He had a feeling he'd be needed.

Sherlock and John arrived almost at the same time and Lestrade filled them in on events. The afternoon before, Robert St. Simon, a man just past 40, had been married to a Miss Margaret Doran, the daughter of an influential businessman from California, in a very intimate ceremony. At the equally intimate reception, the new Mrs. St. Simon had complained of a headache and excused herself to their hotel room upstairs. After she had not been heard of for some time, the groom left to check on her only to discover the room empty. Upon questioning employees, it was discovered that Margaret had been seen leaving the hotel looked distressed with a coat and hat pulled over her wedding dress and had gone who knows where. The police had then been contacted, and a Claire Miller had been arrested.

"What for?" Sherlock asked.

"She caused quite the disturbance in the hotel lobby as the wedding party was coming in after the wedding. Luckily, we don't think the bride saw her beforehand, but she's the only suspect we have at the moment. She seems unstable, and the two were seen walking together after Mrs. St. Simon left the hotel." Sherlock pursed his lips thoughtfully but said nothing.

"Mr. St. Simon should actually be here any minute, if you would like to meet with him."

Sherlock nodded his assent as an older but obviously well kept man knocked lightly on the open door. "Inspector Lestrade? Are you the man who is going to help me find my wife?"