Thanks again to Jeni2727 on Tumblr for beta-ing another chapter and getting it back to me so soon! She's currently teaching and trying to do a thesis project and write papers so a big thank you goes out to her for doing it among all that stuff!

Also, as a side note: When Sherlock calls Rosie "moy malen'kiy tsvetok" it is supposed to mean my little flower in Russian (or so Google Translate tells me. If anyone knows differently, please feel free to let me know so I can change it.)

Chapter 11

Sherlock paces across the floor of the flat waiting for John and Rosie to appear. How long must a sick child sleep for anyway? He checks his watch again and huffs indignantly at it. It's been over two hours.

The consulting detective has already put out feelers through his homeless network for any information on Mr. Young being in London, and has had the chance to look the scoundrel up. It seems Joseph was taken to court on human trafficking charges but they were dropped due to lack of evidence three years ago. Sherlock is certain that Mr. Young made sure there was little in the way of a paper trail for his underhanded transgressions and there is no doubt that Moriarty must have helped Joseph escape incarceration.

He pauses in front of the fireplace and stares blankly into the mirror. Molly must have been abducted on the same premise, but for what reason? The name Molly Hooper has been linked with his own, so revenge against himself is possible. There must be something else though. Perhaps someone else.

He smiles to himself. This case is getting better and better.

Sherlock entertains the thought that Mr. Young isn't the mastermind behind it at all. That there is another party pulling the strings and Joseph is merely the puppet. But with Moriarty long gone, who would take the time to specifically seek out Joseph to carry out this abduction and more importantly, why now?

Wedding bells ring out in his mind, and instantly he knows. Molly's upcoming nuptials. Revenge is certainly the cause, but why? What could Molly have done to warrant such animosity? There is no reason for anyone to explicitly target her...it must be in connection with myself. That is the only explanation.

Sherlock turns to find John holding out a steaming cup of tea in his direction and Rosie playing quietly on the floor, her nose red and running. He takes the teacup from John. "It's revenge," he states without skipping a beat and slips into his leather chair, crossing one leg over another.

He watches John stare at him for a moment, eyelids blinking and the telltale head twitch of a man who is trying to play catch up. "Are you not even going to ask me when I got here? Or even say thank you?"

"Nope."

The consulting detective secretly smirks behind his teacup. John's rolls his eyes and makes his way to sit in his overstuffed chair. "I honestly don't know why I even bother," he throws his hands up in exasperation.

Sherlock waves a hand in his direction, dismissing his petty concerns. "That's not important," he says, placing his teacup and saucer on the arm of his chair. "What is important, is that I have found out Molly has been abducted by a man who is involved with human trafficking. What's more interesting is he's merely a puppet for the real person behind the abduction. This unknown person has done this to seek revenge on Molly and myself for something we must have done. For what, I cannot say though."

John blinks at him.

"Hurry up, will you? I haven't got all day."

"So you think that this Joe Young guy isn't the one behind Molly's abduction then?" John ponders.

Sherlock furrows his brows at his companion. "Yes, that's what I said! Do pay more attention next time!" Immediately, he hears whimpering coming from the floor and realizes the palpable irritation in his voice must have unnerved his goddaughter. Rosie looks up at him with teary eyes and her lip begins to tremble.

"I apologize for raising my voice, moy malen'kiy tsvetok," Sherlock smiles down at her. "I am merely trying to explain something to your father in which he is taking too long to comprehend."

Rosie frowns up at him, her hands on either side of her hips. "Be nice to Daddy! He want to help!"

Being told off by a three-year-old does the trick and he succumbs to Rosie's wishes. "Alright, alright. I'll play nice," he says with a wink and a quick smile in her direction.

John's voice interrupts the banter. "Huh. You said it was for revenge, right? Then it had to have been someone she knows. And since she doesn't have a lot of close friends outside of work, other than Meena, could it be someone from work?"

Sherlock's fingers steeple and he rests them on his lips, momentarily deliberating on John's suggestion. It almost fits. Almost. Something doesn't sit quite right though. John was correct when he said that the person would have to be intimately acquainted with Molly but he must also have had a connection to this unknown person as well. So that ruled out her new place of employment entirely, putting St. Bart's at the forefront of his mind. Without a doubt he knew he pissed off a lot of people in that hospital, but he couldn't see Molly making anyone mad enough to seek revenge. Unless...

Sherlock grins. "Close. I need to visit St. Bart's."

"Oh no you don't! I've come all this way with a sick child, Sherlock! I am not having you disappear without more of an explanation!"

Sherlock sighs and his hand moves across his creased brow as he gets to his feet. "You're right—well partially. It is linked to someone from work, but not from her present employer. It goes farther back than that, unfortunately."

John stares at Sherlock, his hands move to sit on his hips. "Okay. So what then? Someone at St. Bart's has it out for Molly?"

"Not exactly," the consulting detective says. "It appears as if her connection to me and St. Bart's is at the pinnacle of this investigation. Why else would the person in question hire a man connected with Jim Moriarty to abduct her.

John still isn't getting it. "And?" His shoulders shrug.

"The only place that we could have both come into contact with whoever seeks revenge, must be connected to St. Bart's in some way."

John's eyes widen. "It's not Mike Stanford, is it?"

Sherlock scoffs at the suggestion. "Goodness no! Mike has no motive nor reason to. But there are others who do and that is what I am going to investigate while you stay here with Rosie."

"What? Why?" John pouts like a puppy who has his treat taken away.

Sherlock walks to the door of his flat and turns. "You need to wait for Wiggins to return with any information on Joe Young's whereabouts. Besides, you have a sick child on your hands. I'm sure Rosie would fare much better if she stayed here instead of a germ-infested hospital."

"I suppose you're right."

"You know I am."

The door opens and just before Sherlock traipses downstairs, he turns. "Whatever Wiggins has, text me the details."

"Alright, will do."

Sherlock dashes downstairs. With a flip, his coat is on and he's outside in moments, walking purposely in the direction of his old haunt, St. Bart's.

As he strides along the pavement his mind palace is a flurry of activity going through all of the possible people who Molly might have annoyed. Thankfully, the list was short. A few of her ex-colleagues came to mind. They disliked the favouritism that she and Mike always paid him. He doubted that it would be enough to seek out a known criminal and subject Molly to an abduction though. Then there were the corpses that Molly allowed him to experiment on. Occasionally, the families of said corpses had issues with how their deceased relatives were treated, even if the corpses signed away their bodies over to science before death. That seems the more likely case out of the two.

Now, to match the right corpse to the disgruntled family. Hopefully the records from Molly's time at St. Bart's were still accessible and Mike would be willing to show him where they were. He hoped that it would be a simple trek with little to no resistance. The sheer lengths he would have to go to if the big wigs denied him access would make the whole ordeal much too tedious. Perhaps he could come in with a bribe of some sort for Stamford to sweeten the deal. Coffee was acceptable in these sorts of instances, he knew from experience. Sherlock brings out his mobile.

What does Mike take in his coffee? Or does he prefer tea?

-SH

A few moments later John replies.

Coffee. Black, two sugars. And if you really want to impress him, bring him some form of confectionery. He won't be able to say no to you then.

-JW

Sherlock looks at his watch. Just enough time to make a detour.