Chapter Nine: Along Came A Spider

John watched silently as Sherlock once again paced the floor of 221B. When they left the Haven two days ago, John had known his friend had figured out some sort of plan. It had worried him of course; Sherlock being so silent and secretive on the subject. He felt justified in feeling such a way, as the only other time he had remained closed lipped was before the Fall. Still, John hadn't thought he would actually come up with something this asinine.

"I don't like it, she could get hurt." And that was the thing that really bothered John, it wasn't his own life that Sherlock was endangering, it was Molly's.

"I know that John." Sherlock pushed off of the mantelpiece where he had momentarily leaned against. He had been through every scenario he could think of; tried to think of other ways to find the murderer. This was the only one that could possibly speed everything up and save another child from death.

"Then why are you making her do this?" He had known that his friend could be cold at times, but John never thought that he would be so uncaring and reckless with someone else's life.

"I'm not making her do anything, I asked and she agreed to it." Well, she pretty much agreed to it before he actually asked, as she always did, but that was neither here nor there, and Sherlock didn't think it wise to mention.

"Sherlock, I know you can not be that stupid. You know that woman is in love with you, she would take a bullet for you if you asked it of her." John would admit that bothered him, scared him even. John would gladly die to save Sherlock, he would, but it unnerved him when it came to Molly. Maybe it was because with his friendship with Sherlock, John knew where he stood, but he wasn't really sure Molly did.

"I know! I tried to tell her she didn't have to do it, but she insisted." Several times throughout the night he had mentioned to her that they could find another way, but Molly refused to hear it. Sherlock was both proud and bothered by this.

"Then you didn't try hard enough!" John knew he was yelling, but he thought it was better than crossing the room and beating the ever living shit out of his friend, because that was what he really wanted to do.

"Stop it, both of you. I'm not doing this because of any feelings I have for Sherlock. I'm doing this because right now it is the best chance we have at catching this woman, and no one can convince me otherwise."

Both men turned to look at Molly as she stepped out of Sherlock's room, and they knew they would be lying if they said that their breath did not catch at the sight of the normally sweet, happy looking woman.

Molly stepped into the middle of the room wearing a pair of threadbare trousers and jumper, her hair unbound in wild tangles around her face, and not even the hint of lipstick or eye-shadow. But what made the three men sick were the large purple bruises that bloomed across her face, neck and arms.

Sherlock felt his hands clench at the sight of Molly, it didn't matter that the bruises and split lip were fake, it actually hurt to see Molly in such a way. He had felt that anger before, when Mrs Hudson had been attacked and when Moriarty had threatened his friends. He felt it once again, only this time there was no one to blame, no one to hurt because it was all make-believe.

"Molly, you don't have to do this, we can figure out another way. Hire an actress or something." Anything, Sherlock thought, anything but this. He had felt fear over John's safety before, when they worked a case, but it had never made him actually sick to his stomach before.

"I'm flattered that you care, but I'll be fine, I want to do this. Mycroft said he would be watching, if anything goes wrong he will get me out of there." She would admit to being frightened out of her mind. She had dreamed of going undercover with Sherlock before, going on grand adventures and solving mysteries, but now that she actually stood there ready and willing…well she finally realized just how out of their minds Sherlock and John must be. To actually want to do this, to crave it; both of them were insane.

"Molly…" Taking a step towards her, Sherlock allowed his worry to show; though only for a moment. He lifted a hand to touch the large blotch of purple on her cheek, but dropped his arm when Molly took a step back.

"No Sherlock, I'm doing this." Molly feared if she allowed Sherlock to touch her when he looked like that, that she would loose her nerve. She was determined, this woman needed to be stopped and she would do what needed to be done in order to catch her.

Nodding, Sherlock a handed her an old beat up bag. Molly reached out to take it, gasping slightly as Sherlock turned his hand and clasped her own in his. His fingers tightened around hers securely, refusing to allow her to pull back.

John watched all this from a few steps away, wondering if he had somehow fallen asleep and was dreaming. Molly going undercover, Sherlock showing emotion other than elation at a new murder to solve. It was all very surreal. He would have said something further on Molly's involvement, but before he could open his mouth the woman in question looked him straight in the eyes. The look she sent him stopped him in his tracks. Maybe she was doing all this for Sherlock, but he could see real sadness behind those eyes.

Giving a nod of his own, John left the two back in the flat as he went to wait outside. Mycroft would not be the only one with men on standby. John and Sherlock would be waiting with Greg several blocks away, waiting for a signal from one of Sherlock's homeless network that Molly needed help.

Back in the flat, Sherlock finally released Molly's hand, his fingers seeming to hold on to the last second as he pulled away. He would have once ridiculed himself over the obvious display of sentimentality, but he was finding that he had changed from the man he had been all those years ago. He had friends now, he openly showed them affection; of a sort at least.

Molly pulled her arm in, tucking the strap of the bag over her head and across her shoulder. She swallowed as she looked up at the man in front of her, she had never seen him look at her that way. It unnerved her.

Sherlock cleared his throat, trying to force something past his lips. A thank you, a be safe, something, anything. Instead he just reached into his pocket and retrieved a mobile that he had purchased earlier.

"Take this and keep it close. Text me if you feel even the slightest bit uncomfortable." He stuck out his hand, the mobile held between thumb and forefinger.

"Sherlock, really…" Molly looked between him and the phone, her hands still clinging to the strap of the bag.

"Just do it." He held his hand out further, never taking his eyes off her face. He would stuff the thing in her bag himself if he had to.

With a sigh Molly took the phone and slipped it into the cup of her bra, giving it a pat and looking up at Sherlock. She gave him a slight smile, one he didn't return.

"I'll be fine, I know you don't get along with your brother, but I know you trust him with things like this. I'm not scared or worried and you shouldn't be either." She was lying of course, and she knew that Sherlock knew it too, but she refused to be anything but brave.

"I didn't say I was." What was it about the woman in front of him? She could disarm him unlike any other he had met, see past all his masks, all his lies. Not even John could do that.

"That's the funny thing about you Sherlock, you say more when you actually keep your mouth shut. Now come on, before I lose my nerve."

Molly smiled up at the older woman that had brought her a cup tea. She had been nothing but kind to her since she entered the Haven, bringing her in and helping her find an empty bed to rest on. She had doted on Molly, making sure she had everything she needed; a warm blanket, tea, food, and if she wished, someone to talk to. She was the typical motherly type, and Molly hoped to God that she wasn't the one that they were looking for.

"There you go Dear, that should warm you up. I've got a few chores to do, but if you need anything, just ask for Mattie." Mattie smiled widely at the small woman she had been helping, the poor dear looked far worse for wear and she wished she would take her up on the offer of a talk.

"Thank you, you are very kind." Molly took a small sip of her tea, careful not to burn her tongue on it.

"Think nothing of it, just get some rest."

Molly watched from behind her cup as the woman left. So far she hadn't seen anyone that she thought fit the bill of a murderer. Then again Molly knew that the woman doing all of the this wouldn't be some raging maniac with cruel eyes, she would look like everyone else. That was the problem, she was looking for a wolf in sheep's clothing, and there were far too many sheep around. Shaking off those thoughts, and anything else that would distract her, she focused instead on drinking her tea and acting appropriately.

The night before, while they had been working out the details of their plan, Sherlock had drilled her on how to act. She had been worried about getting it wrong, but apparently she had been doing something right as Mattie had rushed to her aid just moments after she entered the building. And it seemed Mattie wasn't the only one she had convinced, for when she had looked up momentarily from her cup several minutes later she noticed someone heading straight for her.

"There is no need to be scared here, you are safe."

Molly looked up at the woman that had just sat down on the bed beside her. She looked to be about thirty-five years old, she could have possibly been younger, but Molly figured that it would have only been by a year or two. She was a very plain woman, not ugly, just rather forgettable; short of stature, mousey hair, little nose, and rather dull grey eyes.

"I know, it is just….." Molly waved a hand about in front of her, giving the woman a small, nervous smile.

"I understand, no need to explain. I'm Ashley Elsberry by the way." Ashley held out a hand, the kind smile still on her face.

"Molly Sargent." Molly took the offered hand, giving a brief shake before pulling back just as quickly, rewrapping her hand around her cup of rapidly cooling tea.

"Hello Molly. If you don't mind my asking, what happened?" Ashley indicated the bruises covering Molly's face and arms.

The bruises looked horrendous, and Molly had fretted that she had overdone it just a bit. She had done a few plays when she had been a child, and makeup had always been one of her favorite bits.

"It's just…well Steve got a little angry." Molly reached up a hand and gave a phantom pass over one of the nastiest looking bruises.

"And hit you?"

"It wasn't his fault, I deserved it. I had forgotten the roast in the oven and it got a bit too dry. Steve can't stand dry roast." With a self-deprecating smile, Molly tipped her cup to his lips. She made a show of pulling back when the cool liquid touched her 'split lip.'

"Never say that it was your fault, there is no reason in the world that could give any man the right to hit you." Ashley pulled a handkerchief from her pocket, handing it to the poor woman beside her. She had seen far to many women like her, and it angered her that she would see even more before her life was through.

"It's alright, he didn't really mean it, he just gets really angry when he drinks. Once he sobers he will apologize, he always does. He was just upset because he had a bad day at work, that is all." Molly gently dabbed at her lips, careful not to remove any of her 'wounds.'

"It is never alright. Stop making excuses for him, and leave." Though what Molly said next didn't surprise her, it still angered her.

"He would be so angry with me." Molly bit her lip and looked down into her now empty cup.

"That is why we are here, all of us are here to help you." Ashley set her hand on one of Molly's and gave a soft squeeze and a smile.

Molly hated deceiving this woman, she was so sweet, but they had to find the killer before she took the life of another child. And so she set about playing her part, and for a while the two spoke quietly on Molly's bed in the corner, talking about everything from favorite color to most hated movie. There had been no sign of anything untoward, at least that she could see, but Molly needed to continue forward with the plan. Maybe Ashley would be able to lead them to the murderer.

It had been a good two hours since Ashley had sat down beside her, and Molly thought now was as good a time as any, and placed a hand on her stomach, bending over a little while she made a bit of a moaning noise.

"Molly, is everything alright?" Ashley laid a gentle hand on Molly's back, rubbing small, comforting circles as she leaned down to look into the other woman's face.

"Yes, I just don't think the tea is settling well. Ever since I got pregnant I've had trouble eating certain things. I'll be happy when the morning sickness is finished." In an instant the air around them changed. Molly could see a hardness rush over Ashley's eyes. The woman stiffened momentarily before placing her free hand on Molly's belly. She tried not to squirm, but the feeling of the other woman's hand on her made her feel sick. There was something wrong with the way she did it.

"Don't worry, I'll make sure your child is safe. You just sit here Molly, and I'll get you something for your stomach. It worked wonders when I was pregnant." Ashley stood, grabbed the cup from Molly's hand and left all before the woman could respond.

Molly shook herself, and the strange feeling she had crawling up her spine. There was something bothersome about the way Ashley had reacted when she had admitted to being pregnant. She figured it could all boil down to her worry for a pregnant woman with an abusive husband, but there was something almost possessive in her touch to her belly.

It was a few minutes later that Ashley returned, a cup of juice in her hands.

"There, drink this now. It will help calm your nerves and your stomach." Ashley pressed the glass into Molly's hand and then to her lips, holding on as Molly took several drinks.

Molly almost gagged at the bitter juice. She wanted to pull back, but Ashley just kept pushing the glass to her lips. She thought had she actually been pregnant the stuff would have made her even more sick than anything.

She licked her lips once the glass was removed, and Molly realized there was something very familiar about the bitterness, yet she was unable to place it, mostly as she began to feel dizzy.

Molly had never one to live by the old adage of what could go wrong, will. She had always been a bit of an optimistic, she had be to in order to love Sherlock Holmes. Still, she was beginning to understand the pessimistic side of humanity a bit better, because as she tried right her head and calm down, a teenaged mother and her newborn child entered the Haven.

Molly began to panic when she noticed Ashley look over at the young mother. There was no mistaking the thin hair, the sores all over her body, and the dull eyes. This was not in the plan, Molly was supposed to find the murderer by body language and suspicious behavior alone and tell Sherlock. But Molly knew things had gone wrong the moment the teen and her baby walked in.

Sadly Molly was right, as a few minutes later she realized just what she had drank. It seemed their murderer was mixing things up, because that sure as hell was not your everyday sleeping aid. She fumbled to reach into her shirt for the phone, but before she could slip inside Molly found blackness creeping around the edges of her vision, and then nothing.

Author's Note: Ok, so besides the preface this is probably the shortest chapter…and the crappiest too. Sorry, I just couldn't seem to get the last half to work no matter how much I played with it. Hopefully the other two will be better.

Now, as I said, two more chapters and then this one is done. I do have another story I am working on that I hope to post as soon as I finish with this one, it is a Great Mouse Detective inspired Sherlolly, and will be filled with lots of cute Sherlock with child moments, as well as sweet Sherlolly moments.

Now, I am getting a tooth out tomorrow, and it has to be cut out and because of my panic disorder I have to be put under. Anyway, the fact is between that and the pain meds I will be on for a bit, I most likely will not post anything for a week or two, because you really do not want to read anything I write while on medication.

Next Chapter: Sherlock worries, Molly stalls, Too late?

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.