*** I do not own any of these characters. Whoa, okay guys I'm sensing that you're all a bit ticked at the length of the last one. I was just trying to emphasize Molly's breakdown and I thought adding more to that chapter would have taken away from what she was dealing with. Reviews are just amazing and I try to take everything you guys say into consideration!***

28

I accidently dropped the knife on the ground. I stared back and forth between the knife and Sherlock for a moment before bending down to pick it up.

"I… uh, I thought you were a burglar," I lied trying to keep my face from looking guilty.

"And your plan was to get the burglar with a butter knife?" he asked skeptically.

I quickly turned around and poured myself the cup of tea since the kettle was whistling loudly. I took my cup and sat at the kitchen table. Sherlock hesitantly took the seat cross from me.

"You weren't worried about burglars before. Why now?" He asked raising an eyebrow.

Of course Sherlock would see through my aversion. Damn it. I've always been an awful liar. I should have had something prepared.

"I watched a program on the telly," I lied lamely.

"Where did you watch it? You didn't come back here last night. Where did you go after the party? I came back here after trying to follow the shooter. You weren't here and it was almost one in the morning," he said searching my face for a reaction of some kind.

I held my face as still as possible, willing myself to give nothing away.

I ran through several different scenarios in my mind. I had to pick something that would be the most effective in staving off more questions.

"I ran into Joaquin again after leaving the party," I said, hoping that by using bits of the truth, I'd appear less like I was lying.

Sherlock's eyebrows quirked upwards.

"We ended up chatting for far too long. Next thing I knew it was five in the morning so I had to get back home," I added, hoping he wouldn't press me for details.

He looked almost crestfallen and was silent for a long moment.

"I thought you'd be here for me when I returned," he said, the hurt clearly visible in his eyes.

Pain shot through my heart as I looked at him. I started to reach my hand out towards his face but pulled it back. There were important matters at hand and I didn't have time to comfort and reassure Sherlock. He might be dead very soon and it was all my fault. I've been so stupid and took to many risks. Without being able to confide in Sherlock and let his brain save us all from this horrible fate, it was up to me.

I stood up briskly and excused myself before rushing to my room and shutting the door behind me.

One traitor tear slipped down my cheek. I quickly wiped it away and sat on the edge of my bed. I had to think of a plan and I had to do it fast.

I lay on my back and stared up at the ceiling. For the longest time, I just repeated "what would Sherlock Holmes do?" until I bolted upright. Sherlock wasn't going to be the one saving the day. It was going to be me. What would Molly Hooper do?

It was nearly midnight when my plan finally came together. Would it work? Had I thought of every possible way this could go wrong? I realized I didn't have time to doubt myself and needed to act as quickly as possible if I wanted to give my plan even the slightest chance of succeeding.

I walked out into the living room and saw Sherlock lying on the couch. He sat up abruptly as I walked in.

"Are you upset Molly?" he asked, his browns knitted in concern.

"Actually, I'm not. I think I've got everything under control. I've got to rush off to Bart's for my night shift but I'll be back soon. Please stay here and just text me if you need anything," I said grabbing my keys off of the small table next to the front door.

I was going to just leave but the temptation was too great. I quickly walked across the room and grabbed Sherlock's face between my hands and kissed him with all my might. There was so much emotion in those few seconds that I had to pull away before my resolve deteriorated completely. I had to save him.