Disclaimer: see chapter 1.
A/N: OMG! I am SO sorry! I decided to start wrapping it up! So, there are a number of BIG reveals in this chapter! Hope that it makes up for my ridiculousness! Any requests/predictions for the end?
Molly's hand was shaking. Taking a forceful breath, she told put down the scalpel in her hand. Stop it. There's no reason to be nervous. Tonight Sherlock and I will have sex again. It will be fine. Just like last time. In fact, he's going to treat it like an experiment, clinically. Yes, that's how I should treat it too. Forcing another deep breath, Molly returned her attention to the body before her.
The sound of a loud bang caused Molly to loose her grip on her shining scalpel. With a small squeak, Molly jumped back from where the knife dropped.
Turning in surprise, Molly found the object of her thoughts calmly evaluating her. "Sherlock," Molly whispered.
"Yes, Molly, hello," Sherlock stonily replied.
Molly reminded herself to breathe. She took in Sherlock's slightly wet locks, shining in the fluorescent lights, and his sparkling aquamarine eyes. His feet seemed to shuffle along the linoleum flooring.
Molly took a moment to bask in the awkward silence. Taking the mantle of the conversation, Molly asked, "What can I do for you, Sherlock?"
Sherlock sucked in a breath before saying, "Many things, Molly Hooper." He cleared his throat. "However, for now, I would appreciate a data analysis on this sample," at which the man held up a small ziplock baggie. Inside the baggie was one of Sherlock's pens. As Molly looked closer, she noticed the pen had a dark lipstick stain in the middle of the pen.
Deep breaths, Molly, she told herself. No need to be curious or hurt that Sherlock has a pen a woman stuck in her mouth. A woman with seductive lips. Making a small "hmm", Molly nodded demurely and took the item from Sherlock.
They spent the next two hours with eyes glued to machines and samples in order to determine the exact make up of the .. well, make-up.
"The lipstick seems to be a specifically designed brand. Not sold in any common shop," Molly concluded when comparing the sample to others.
Sherlock closed his eyes, putting his hands together in his thinking pose. Molly admired him from her seat next to him. Smelling the detective, being near him for hours was like being overwhelmed with an intoxicating incense. One that pushed her thinking and punished her heart.
Suddenly, he said, "Brilliant!" Standing, he leaned over Molly's shorter, sitting, stature and kissed her on her forehead. Both utterly shocked by his actions, each remained still.
Sherlock, clearing his throat once more, rushed out of the lab.
Molly looked around the recently vacated space with bewilderment. What in the world has gotten into him? she pondered.
Mycroft examined the beauty standing before him.
Her full red lips, her shadowed eyes, and her deep purple off the shoulder dress gave her an air of professional mystery and feminine sophistication that nearly made his heart stutter.
This was why he hired her in the first place, yes. But, the added element of deadly accuracy with regard to her objectives and focus was why he kept her.
"Anthea."
"Mycroft."
Sighing slightly, he began again, "Anthea, this is untoward. Who are you working for?"
Anthea's mischievous glee in her eyes seeped into a small smile. "My employer wishes to remain anonymous. I merely decided to update you on the current issue. That has no bearing on my employment decisions."
Returning his gaze to the boring chipped wooden wall, Mycroft probed, "And what aid could I be in here?"
Anthea's smile grew. "Mycroft, we both know your mind is absolutely biting for some form of entertainment. Think of this as my attempt to entertain you."
Mycroft;s eyes narrowed in suspicion as he turned back to his PA. "Ah, so, an associate has gone rogue, and you need to decide how to get him back on track before your employer finds out. My working with you for so many years, Anthea, has betrayed you."
Her smile disappeared completely as she nodded slowly in affirmation.
"Well, what kind of agent is this? What are the most effective methods to control him?" With no response, Mycroft glared at his assistant in shock and slight outrage. "You hired on an agent without knowing his weaknesses? Anthea, this is quite unlike you."
The women lowered his eyes in shame. "It was a quickly needed decision. There was no time."
"Who is this agent you hired?"
Anthea's chocolate brown eyes met with his nearly in tears. "I'm sorry, Mycroft."
Sherlock looked at his mate.
Beautiful.
She was lying naked on his bed, panting heavily. They had just finished their nightly activity and as Sherlock's brain was restarting, he was viciously trying to figure out a way to convince Molly to stay.
He believed the outcome of this trial run was met with much more success than the first. Indeed, he heard Molly cry out, "Oh, God!" at least twelve times, and she moaned his name more times than he could count. Well, at least he did count until his own pleasure consumed him, causing him to lose the number. Now, he lay prostrate on the silken sheets as he stared at his mate. He was thankful for the warm night as there was no need for the bed coverings. He could admire Molly in all her glory, shining with a thin layer of sweat and smelling of their joint activities. It unwittingly gave Sherlock a sense of pride to see her so laid bare and enjoying herself.
She slowly turned to look at him. She seemed utterly exhausted.
"Give Mary my compliments," she said slyly, showing she knew Sherlock had conferred with her friend.
"Indeed," Sherlock sighed. He fought the blush on his cheeks, still embarrassed at having to ask for help. Sherlock was thankful for the dark of night as he believed his pink was hidden. Clearing his throat, he began, "Molly, since the result of our copulation has indeed been much more enjoyable this time round, I believe it would be much more prudent for you to remain as you are, in order to better provide future opportunities tonight for similar ventures."
Molly blinked a few times. Sherlock could tell she was mentally sorting through his speech.
Gently, softly, just as she was, she stated, "You, want me... to stay here. In case, i-in case you want another round?"
The squinting of her eyes and her vocal inflection made her appear just one word to Sherlock.
Adorable.
Ruffling his hair with one hand, he confidently stated, "Yes."
Molly smiled with one corner of her mouth."Ok," she whispered into the darkness. Leaning over his torso, she gave him one small peck. Compared with their previous kisses, Sherlock could only describe the sensation as Sweet.
Mycroft could not believe his ears. Roaring, he stood and crossed the room. "How could you, Anthea!? This is ridiculous?! How could you trust her? Who could you possibly be working for that would want you to hire her?"
Anthea's own sense of indignity and rage caused her to stand and meet the politician halfway. "It was not my employer's decision. It was mine, Mycroft. She was in the best position to get done what was needed. Now all that power has gone to her head. I've worked with her before, I know how she is."
Mycroft was dearly tempted to roll his eyes at his PA. "Working with someone doesn't give you the ultimate insight into that person's behaviour. You should have done more research, Anthea. Or better yet, asked me! Asked me before you brought me to this god-forsaken hovel." He gestured to the scare furniture in his imprisonment.
Anthea sighed, gently placing her hands on Mycroft's fine silk shirt. "Mycroft. Don't you think my decisions are generally well-founded? I chose you as my mate, didn't I?" She smiled coyly, remembering the moment.
Mycroft did roll his eyes at that point. "That has nothing to do with this, Anthea." He placed his hands on top of her manicured ones. Sighing, he asked, "Do you trust her? This agent of yours?"
She nodded in response. Releasing her, Mycroft sat once more in his chair. "I doubt I could ever trust her.
.
.
.
The woman.
Irene. Irene Adler."