Hello, sorry for the late update, but I had to bring the Christmas into the house (yes, I usually do all the decorating my self) and I'm sure some of the virus floating in the air last year had stayed over the baubles, I suffered from a 'zombie' flu (well, I felt like a zombie, not able to speak coherently or do something else but moan and walk to slow) that got me coughing, sneezing, and sort of dying for a few days before I was able to think of updating (probably why the chapter is also a bit short), but I survived and I'm back.

Also the old story about the computer (believe me if I had enough money to fix it you wouldn't hear about it, but I'm in México, it's actually difficult to think of spending money in another machine than spending it in surviving priorities, that's how bad the country is economically speaking [no, really, I love the place, is beautiful, but don't ever think of living here]). Warnings for the chapter below: there's a very 'romantic and interesting' scene down there, it's probably very short and it sticks to the rating, but just so you know; and there are some mentions of torture and crazy behavior, not too explicit but if you don't like it just skip the italic part.

I'll try to have the next chapters soon, but there will probably not be updates during the holidays, in any case Merry Christmas and Happy New Year. Read and enjoy.

14. – Fire.

Sherlock was quite frustrated, all his efforts to find something relating the even he had to remember were fruitless, he wasn't sure how much Mycroft could control some things, but he was near to blame him even for the lack of information in the world wide web, it couldn't be possible that an even of this "magnitude" was completely unreachable, untraceable, invisible…

He closed his laptop with a huff and started to walk around the living room again, he needed a cigarette or five… He had even thought of getting some drugs by calling Wiggins, but that would made Molly angry and he didn't want that. Although at this point he thought that maybe that was the kind of mood his mind needed to be to allow him access to that long blocked memory.

He sighed, throwing back his head and staring at the ceiling. What could he do? What could he possibly use to get those memories back? Maybe he could ask John to hit his head in the place where the concussion had been, but that wouldn't warranty it to come back… Maybe he could go back to his youth house and try to recall the event by going to the places he frequented when he was younger, but that would take some time and he wasn't really sure that he wanted to deal with his parents right now.

He growled in frustration and picked up his violin, this wasn't going to help him solve the problem, but it always helped to calm him down, and sometimes, just sometimes he got to compose something and that also took some processes from his head (it was as if the music was constantly being created in his mind and wouldn't stop until he played it out).

Taking a deep breath he slid the bow against the strings, producing the sweet voice of the instrument and making it sing next to him, letting his fingers move in the various notes, feeling the slight vibration of the wood on his clavicle letting it feel his body and mind.

He was so engrossed in it that he didn't noticed when Molly arrived. She had knocked softly on the door, having listened to the violin from downstairs, but when he ignored her obviously lost in the instrument she had entered and was now sitting at the couch looking at him, while he waltzed a bit with the rhythm, his eyes closed and the perfectly tuned notes creating a really comfortable atmosphere. She had just got out of work, but didn't want to go to her flat since they hadn't debugged her flat from Mycroft's cameras.

When he finished playing the current melody he stopped and opened his eyes, sighing again, it took him a few seconds to realize that Molly was in the room with him as well. She smiled at him when his eyes landed on her and his eyebrows raised.

-That's just beautiful. – She said standing up and walking to him, kissing his cheek as greeting.

-Thank you. – He said smiling.

-When I was little I wanted to learn how to play the violin. But my father didn't have enough money to buy one or for the classes. I would have insisted, but one Christmas he gave me a chemistry set, you know, one for kids with insect samples and a microscope and I totally forgot about it. Biology had called me, and from that moment on my path to the medical school was clear.

-Would you like to know how it is?

-I don't think I would have time to learn, and I wouldn't like to torture poor Toby with my first attempts at home, so, no, thank you, but I'll pass.

-I didn't say I wanted to teach you, I said if you would like to know how it feels when you play it.

-I've never thought about it, does it feel special?

Sherlock chuckled, and then gestured her to stand near to him. Molly made to take the violin from his hands, but he didn't let her. Standing at her back he placed the violin under her chin, she lifted her arm to support it, but once again Sherlock moved her hand, telling her to hold his hands instead. It took some arranging but finally Molly was holding Sherlock's hands in a way that he could use to press the strings and move the bow.

-I've never done this before. – Whispered Sherlock in her ear from her right shoulder. – Just relax and feel the vibrations there. – He said pointing at the place where her chin rested over the instrument.

Molly felt a bit awkward, with Sherlock looking both at her and the violin from that angle, and her with her hands on his in the middle of the room. And then he lifted the bow and started to play, the first few notes made her shiver, the instrument was light but the vibrations were stronger than what she had expected, Sherlock's hands were moving next to her, she could tell it was a bit more difficult for him to control the instrument in this position, but she was delighted.

A few minutes later the awkwardness was gone, Sherlock kept playing, the movement of the arm maneuvering the bow was steady, Molly had closed her eyes, relaxing in his arms and for a moment she felt as if she was the one playing, the humming of the vibrations caused by the music filling her, she was quite surprised when it suddenly ended.

She was breathing a bit fast, and she could feel Sherlock's heavy breathing against her back as well, he moved his arms, extracting the violin from under her chin but instead of stepping away he wrapped his arms around her.

-Uhm… Is something wrong? – She asked worried that she had somehow managed to make him feel uncomfortable.

-You were humming. – He said next to her neck, making her shiver once again.

-Sorry. – She said trying to understand if that was a good or a bad thing.

-It's fine. It's actually very good. – Said Sherlock kissing her cheek, taking the violin with his right hand and placing it over his chair. – You really felt it, the music. You enjoyed it. – This time his hand moved upwards until his fingers touched the tiny violin hanging from her neck.

She smiled, placing her own hand over his.

-Maybe we could do it again some time.

-Of course. – He said as if it was obvious. And then he placed a kiss to her neck, this time she couldn't help the tiny moan that escaped her throat, making Sherlock laugh a little.

Much to her surprise he didn't stop there, his hands started moving up and down her arms, coming to rest on her waist and holding her tight to him. She moved a bit, trying to see his face, she was wearing her hair down, so she moved her head tossing her hair to one side, until finally their eyes met. He smiled widely and she smiled too, before he leaned down and kissed her from there, one of her arms moving up to cup his jaw.

She turned around in his arms, and deepened the kiss. He immediately pulled her flush against him and started roaming her body with his clever hands. Before she knew what was happening Sherlock had them both walking towards his bedroom. Once in there it didn't take long for them to go through the same path they were usually taking when they kissed and soon the various layers of clothes they were wearing started to get loose.

I was alright if they kept to just that, thought Sherlock when Molly's hands started undoing his trousers. Of course things never really go according to plan, and when it was his turn to take off her jeans Molly's underwear was pulled down at the same time, something he didn't notice until his hand landed on her warm and bare skin.

He froze then, looking at her with wide eyes, and then down at her jeans that were still being dragged down her legs by his other hand. The white fabric of the 'other' piece of Molly's clothes was there and for the first time in a while he blushed. Molly only looked at him, she had noticed what had happened, but hadn't expected Sherlock to react that way.

She smiled up at him and shifted a little, kicking off the jeans and its companion without shame, taking his hand and returning it to her hip; she also kissed him again, until he pulled out of his initial shock. They resumed kissing, but at some point Molly thought this was starting to become awkward, so she them over until she was over him.

-Sherlock… - She said noting that he had closed his eyes when certain part of their bodies met. – I don't know if I should ask, but, have you ever…? – She wasn't sure how to phrase it, but it turned out she didn't have to when Sherlock shook his head.

-Not really, or maybe not that I remember. – Molly's eyes widened at his confession. – I might… probably… when I was using (he didn't managed to say drugs)… but not since then… not even last time, when you… - He looked as if he was looking for something else to say, but she silenced him with a kiss.

-It's ok. Do you want to stop? – She asked resting her head over his chest, feeling him relax a little.

-No. – He said wrapping his arms around her. – It was going to happen soon anyway. And I'm afraid that if we stop right now, next time I'll run away…, but I'm also aware that I might… disappoint you.

She lifted her head to look at him, and then smiled, kissing him once again.

-I don't really care about that, you can always impress me in other ways. – His expression was one of confusion, offense and amusement at the same time, but that didn't stop them. Remembering her boldness when she had first kissed him, and then when she had first started to take off her clothes in front of him, Molly reached down at his hips and pulled at his boxers, feeling him shudder underneath her when their skin touched again.

Maybe sensing that there was still one piece of fabric on them Sherlock's shaky hands moved on her back and worked the clasp of her bra and then tossed it aside. They looked at each other for a moment, not sure who should make the first move now.

Molly did, she leaned down and kissed him, hesitatingly at first, but more convincingly when he started to respond in an eager way and soon enough the awkwardness of the moments was gone. In a way it was weird for her, being the one showing him how to go through this, seeing the lust in his eyes when she was hovering over him, feeling his nervous caresses on her body and then watching the pure bliss in his eyes when it finally happened, going through the motions and the feelings and the sounds, giggling and smiling when something seemed to be happening in the wrong way, encouraging him to let go, to stop thinking so much, to let it happen… at the end she wasn't disappointed at all. Not when he had fallen asleep next to her, fully relaxed and sated, the light layer of sweat making his skin glow, with his messy curls and his reddened lips.

She fall asleep not long after him, wrapping him in her arms and curling next to him, happy and a bit amazed that one of her long forgotten dreams had finally came true.

There was fire, smoke and suffocating heat. He remembered coughing before calling out again. Covering his face with part of his t-shirt he moved quickly and ran upstairs, glad that the structure wasn't made of wood and would last a bit more because of the concrete. Upstairs he saw them.

He was standing with his back to him, the smoke making the image a bit blurry, and he could see her on the other side of the room, pressed against the corner of the room as much as she could, her eyes afraid and the injuries on her body still of an angry red in contrast with her skin. There was no much blood, but the burnt and the blisters were sight enough to know how painful it was, that along with the purplish bruises that had started to tint her body.

He heard the cars outside, he wasn't sure how long he had been unconscious in the other room, and didn't knew how long it had been since Mycroft had find out. The sound of the ambulances, the firemen and other people moving around downstairs was really loud. He screamed again to make him stop, but when he looked back at him he saw that this was some kind of trance, a state that he couldn't fight and snap out with only words.

The long thin metal rod that he was holding in his ironically gloved hands was shining a furious and dangerous red at the tip, and the evil and maniac smile that spread across his features was enough to tell him that he was not going to be able to stop him. He lifted it in her direction, looking back at the woman in the corner and the only thing in his mind was to run and try to stop him anyway… there had to be a way…

The spray of water that entered the room from the window didn't hit the hot threat of the rod, but it took it out of his hands when he crashed against him and they both fall on the floor, the wooden ceiling joists cracked… The water cooling a bit the atmosphere in the room; they struggled, he didn't knew what part of him was against the poor woman or why it was a bad idea, he really couldn't care less of what she had planned for Mycroft.

He screamed and tried to tell him that it was for the best, that she was not being sincere and that something completely different was going to happen if he didn't stopped her, if he didn't make sure that she was not going to come back and try to do it again or any way, even if Mycroft looked for her.

Sherlock on the other hand tried to tell him that it was enough, that he could stop now, things were certainly going out of control. Downstairs there was noise, the firemen had probably controlled the fire at the entrance of the building enough to be able to enter, Mycroft's voice was heard coming upstairs and some other voices telling him that it was dangerous had started to call after him.

The ceiling cracked again, this time a joist crumbled down on the far end of the room, making the whole place tremble. Mycroft entered the room, looking first at his brothers still struggling on the floor and then to the woman that had extended her arms to him. It had only been a second, but then Izzy smiled and Sherlock knew that he had planed something more… five… four… He had started counting, and Sherlock had only been aware of shouting a warning to his elder brother before the explosion… Then he felt his head being crashed by something hard and everything went was blank after that.

-Sherlock! ... SHERLOCK! – Shouted Molly while shaking his shoulders.

-Wha… What? – He asked looking around him, quickly remembering what had happened before he had fallen asleep.

-You were having some sort of nightmare… - said Molly running a hand through her hair to get it out of her face. – I've never seen you like that before, what were you dreaming?

-I… - Damn! It was one of those dreams. He knew that what Molly was saying was true, he could feel the fast beating of his heart and his hands were sweating, he was also shaking a bit. What shocked him was that it was not the first time he had waken up like this, it wasn't often but he remembered once being woken up by John in a similar state. – I don't remember.

-You were mumbling something about fire, and hurting someone… Are you ok? – She asked wrapping her arms around him.

-Yes. – He said doing the same, and trying to remember, shouting… a woman… fire… fire! He separated himself from Molly, looking at an empty space but without letting her go. – I think I was dreaming of what happened then… I think there was another person involved in this, and now I know why Izzy had to go into exile. – He locked eyes with Molly again and leaned down to kiss her forehead. – I need to leave, I might not see you in a while, but I'll come back I promise. – He said standing up and choosing a new change of clothes before walking towards the bathroom.

-Where do you think he's gone? – Asked Lestrade once back at Molly's apartment.

He, John and a team from Scotland Yard were there, looking for the hidden cameras. Until now they had only found two. One in the front wall across from her door that she asked them to leave, thinking that at least that one allowed the security to see who entered her apartment (and hopping that Tom would never appear in those recordings), and another one under a table she had next to the door inside.

Mycroft's P.A. was there as well, she hadn't told them where the cameras were, but she had told them what cameras had been there from the beginning, so that they could discuss what to keep. It turned out that Sherlock had asked for cameras at floor level, that and some movement detectors that were active but didn't record.

Right now her living room was being put upside down, the team was searching inside her books, inside the figures she had to adorn her furniture, in the little cracks on the walls and windows, and even in her electronic devices (a good technician was now checking that her TV just had the exact number of pieces before building it up together as he had done with her stereo).

John was there too, making sure that she wasn't feeling too invaded with all these men checking every surface in her apartment.

-I don't know, he didn't tell me. – She said trying to sound casual, she was regretting telling John that Sherlock had left, he had called asking for him and she had just told him without thinking first on how to explain that she knew first instead of him. And now Greg was also questioning her.

-Don't get me wrong Molly, its very much like Sherlock to just walk away and mind his own business now and then, I've known of him leaving John without telling him in the same way that he often talks of important things without him being there. What I don't understand is why he told you but not us; you wouldn't be hiding something from us, would you?

-Of course not, I don't know why he does half of the things he does. How would you expect me to understand why he suddenly informed me about him going out and not you? Maybe he didn't wanted be questioned, I had just arrived here and was tired; I wasn't really expecting a call from him.

-Molly. – Said John at her back, looking at her while standing next to a man with a short ladder. – We're taking your clock down. – He said and she nodded, walking towards them and giving a quick glance to her TV now being rebuilt.

-Just be careful, that's my favorite clock.

-Yes, it's nice. – Said John looking at the clock. – I bet you can see the hour from every point in the living room.

-Yes, that's what… oh. It probably has a camera inside, isn't it? Ok, I'll buy a new one. – She turned around pouting at the mess in the living room and looking at her couch, it was just in front of the clock, not even the TV blocked the way to see it, she remembered the day before Mycroft had come for her, they had done a few things in that same spot and it had been in plain sight of the camera… Now she could tell Sherlock what Mycroft had seen, she placed a hand over her mouth, trying to cover her blushing cheeks from view. Hopefully where ever Sherlock had gone he would find what he needed to finally solve the case and she wouldn't need to worry about all the security his brother had procured for her.

Molly sighed once again, feeling a bit nervous, she had the feeling that something was going to happen soon, and that it was going to be really difficult to deal with.

Quick note: I don't know if I'll be able to update constantly during the holidays, I hope to be able until the week before.