Author's Note: If you're looking for the perfect song to fit Molly's feelings in this chapter look no further than Lana Del Rey's "Kinda Outta Luck". It's on youtube. go find it when you're done here!

Molly was willing to follow Sherlock to Scotland Yard. She knew it was time for her to tell him everything. All of the lies she'd spread for those long years would finally be rectified. They made their way out of the hospital and into a cab, with the sun blurring their vision. The morbidly silent drive seemed like an eternity. When they were only seconds from their destination, the detective turned to his captive. He remarked, "You know, Molly… before John appeared… you were the one who made me doubt who I was and the way I lived. For just a second I thought maybe... maybe I could love someone ordinary like you."

Sherlock pushed the door open and stepped out of the cab. He didn't turn back to see Molly's reaction. She sat, sickeningly speechless, as he continued toward the doors. She knew she had to follow him, but hesitated to exit the vehicle. Eventually, she caught up with him. They reached the entrance together.

Moriarty called off the snipers that surrounded Molly at all times. Even though she'd revealed her deepest secret, and in turn the key to his location, he still couldn't kill the woman he loved so dearly. She was the only one he ever felt compassion towards, before his son was born of course. Now he had a family. He had two people whose lives he valued more than his own.

Things were different then when the criminal first danced with Sherlock Holmes. Back before the fall, Jim led a reckless young life. Now he had a greater purpose in the world. He could not risk loosing everything he had gained, but it seemed like his enemy had already won. Soon, Molly would give in and disclose his position. The consulting criminal knew that he needed to act fast if he was going to save himself.

Dim lights filled the stark white interrogation room. Molly sat in a metal chair with her arms resting on a gray table. Across from her, Sherlock stood leaning against the stone wall.

"Why did you marry him?" The detective begged. He pressed his clenched fist to his lips, while deep in rapid thought.

"Because you seemed like you didn't care about me one bit. Look at you, you ended up gay anyway," the lady replied, bluntly.

"That doesn't matter. My interest in you wasn't real. Ever. I just wanted to see your reaction back there in the cab. I can't be the only reason. I wasn't the real motive for you to tie the knot with a dangerous consulting criminal," He alleged.

"I've got a dark side. I find his particular talents extremely attractive," she replied, twirling her hair around her finger.

"No you don't," he corrected.

"I'm an actress, Sherlock. Of course you think I'm innocent and sweet all around. That's what I wanted you to think, because I wanted you. Then later, to hide the truth," she forced.

Stressed wrinkled Sherlock's expression, but he faced the wall so Molly wouldn't see. He struggled to form a useful response. He answered, "No, I know when people are performing. You weren't acting."

Molly laughed. Then, she winked and said, "Right. You can tell when people are acting. Sure. My love would be so amused."

Sherlock turned back to face her. He moved forward and pressed his hands down on the bare table. One hand was to Molly's left, the other was to her right, but they were still a good distance from her physically. She was not intimidated at all.

Mrs. Moriarty admitted, "I've killed people. Plenty of people."

Sherlock had not been completely shocked by this proclamation; he'd predicted that she'd say something like this. He simply stated, "Of course."

She continued, "I have a son. He's called Ambrose. That's where I went for a year."

Sherlock had guessed this too. He rhetorically asked, "Where else could you have possibly gone?"

She giggled and replied, "You're not going to find him Sherlock."

Sherlock questioned, "What?"

Molly responded, "You won't find Moriarty. Poor Charlotte, at least you found her safely for now. I love her very much, but unfortunately she has to suffer. It's part of the plan."

Sherlock reacted, "Charlotte's not home. She never came home. This plan you speak of, is this the plan involving my other daughter?"

Flabbergasted, Molly stuttered, "Y-you know about Asil? How?"

Sherlock said, "I did DNA tastes. Asil, that's her name? How odd. Who picked it?"

Molly didn't want to reveal too much. She hesitated, "Her mother."

Sherlock established, "Not the woman John picked. This was a different woman. Someone close to Moriarty."

The criminal's wife admitted, "I can't say."

Just then, Lestrade walked in through the door. He roared, "Sherlock, there are some men in suits here. They say they've come to take Molly. Technically, they can because we have no right to hold her here."

Sherlock roared, "But she came here willingly!"

Molly lied, "No I didn't! You dragged me here!"

Sherlock growled deeply, "Liar!"

Molly rose from her chair, walked to kiss Sherlock on the cheek, and then continued to the door. Before exciting she turned back and said, "Oh dear, looks like my hubby wants me home already. Good luck trying to find Charlotte." She waltzed out the door, and the men whisked her away.