Well we all knew that Greg was going to spill the beans at some point. The question is now...what will Molly do with this information. What would you do? (And I e already had some saying she should jump his bones :))

Shall we see?

Chapter 9

It was fully dark and Molly was setting the kitchen table for the dinner that was almost ready when they heard the front door opening and the voices of John and Sherlock as they came in.

The two men appeared to be arguing.

'...irrational fear of a place that's just ridiculous.'

'It might be ridiculous to you Sherlock but it isn't to me and I will not be stepping foot in that wood again...not tonight, not ever.'

'But he's out there and if there is some secret passageway into this house that's where we'll find it.'

'Then you'll find it with Greg tomorrow but you sure as hell won't be finding it with me.'

They burst into the kitchen and seemed surprised to see the others almost ready to sit down and eat.

John relaxed first shrugging off his coat and giving Sarah a quick kiss on the cheek; though Molly noticed it looked a bit forced. 'Something smells delicious.'

She also saw Sherlock scowling and she gave him a shy smile, feeling her stomach flip over at the sight of him. She felt like a nervous school girl. 'Hey, how did it go? I take it you didn't find him or her? Who even is it?'

Sherlock threw his coat onto a bench and picked up an open bottle of red wine, pouring himself a glass. 'It's the nephew of the woman who owned this house prior to Mrs Hudson's sister buying it. He's the one I said came back after it was sold and is angry with his family for doing that. He's carrying out these "hauntings" to get Janet to sell up and no doubt sell more cheaply than she ought to. He'll then buy it back.'

John picked up the story. 'We went to his current home in the village but there was no sign of him there, or in the pub. Sherlock reckons he's either here, hidden in the house, or he's in the woods and I was just making it perfectly fucking clear that I am not going back out there. Anyway, I'm starving.'

Sherlock took a swig of his wine and rolled his eyes. 'Of course you're are.'

'Yes, because I'm an actual human being and not a machine.'

Molly saw them starting to square up against each other and found herself stepping in between them.

'John's right, it's late and the food is almost ready. Why don't you join us for dinner...I bet you didn't have any lunch and I know you didn't have much for breakfast.'

Sherlock huffed. 'Food's boring.' But she could tell by the way his shoulders relaxed that any fight had gone out of him.

She smiled. 'Maybe...but you still need it and it does smell good. Greg and Sarah have been cooking up a storm whilst you two have been out. Come on.'

She put her hand on the back of one of the chairs and gestured to the one next to her for Sherlock and she couldn't help how happy she felt when he complied and came and chose that chair next to hers. The rest followed and they were soon all happily eating and drinking and swapping theories about how their assailant was getting into the house and how he might have gone about leaking the fake news about Lestrade's death.

On top of doing the cooking Sarah, Molly and Mrs Hudson had decorated the room with some Halloween bunting and carved out a couple of pumpkins which were now helping to light up the room with the candles inside them. Even though Molly had just gone through one of the worst experiences of her life she just couldn't bring herself to feel down or worried. Sat here listening to her friends, with a glass of wine in her hand and Sherlock by her side, she just felt a warmth and a contentedness that she knew was more than half fuelled by the hope that Greg had given her.

Sherlock was leaning back in his chair and expanding on his theories about how and where the secret entry points into the house were and Molly found herself wanting to do something to test out what Greg had said. But what? It couldn't be anything overt given they were in company. Maybe it was the wine talking but in the end she couldn't resist putting her hand onto his thigh.

She heard his voice falter slightly and his eyes slid sideways to her momentarily but rather than reaching to remove her hand he let her leave it there and it gave her such a rush. She could feel the warmth of him beneath her palm, the solid strength of his muscle, and she started to move her fingers in small circles over the smooth material of his trousers.

She barely heard any of the conversation for the next few minutes. She was just so wrapped up in the fact that Sherlock was letting her touch him in such an intimate way. It only ended when the group decided to move into the front room. They all mucked in to clear away the plates and stack the dishwasher and then they grabbed the wine and their glasses and made their way through.

This time Molly was less successful and she ended up on the settee with Mrs Hudson and Greg with John, Sarah and Sherlock in the chairs. The room seemed cheerful and alive with conversation and Molly could barely believe it was the same place where she'd felt so scared the night before. It was funny, this weekend should have felt like a nightmare to escape from given everything that had happened to her but she couldn't help but feel that it was the best weekend away she'd ever had.

Half an hour later and she glanced at her watch surprised to see that it was almost midnight. Sarah must have seen her and did the same only to exclaim, 'Ooh, it's almost the witching hour. I can't believe you've actually persuaded me to come to a haunted house on Halloween.'

She giggled but Molly just found herself yawning, the events of the day catching up with her and making her suddenly long for her bed.

Sherlock downed his drink and stood. 'Right, well that's me done, I'm off.'

There was a bit of nodding around the room as the others started to finish their drinks but Molly felt a bit of confusion about where she ought to go. She knew she should just try and sleep in with Mrs Hudson again but she also knew that wasn't where she wanted to be. It seemed that Sherlock had the same view.

'Are you coming Molly?'

She bit her lip as she looked up at him. 'I...Err...'

He smiled and held out his hand to her. 'I'm sure you don't want a repeat of last night especially seeing as Mrs H here has been drinking far more than she ought.'

Mrs Hudson looked confused as she pushed herself to standing. 'Have I missed something here?'

'Always Mrs Hudson...always. Well? Molly?'

She smiled shyly as she put her hand in his and allowed him to help her stand and she followed him up the stairs.

As they went into his bedroom she had a sudden bout of nerves. What exactly was she doing here? Had she misinterpreted everything?

'I'm surprised you want me to share your room again.'

He frowned a little as he replied. 'Are you? I thought it was obvious that that was what you wanted.'

She felt a little bewildered until he pointed at the bed.

'I'm assuming it was you that left your nightwear here...bit of a giveaway clue.'

She wandered over. It was definitely her nightdress. 'But I...I didn't put this here.'

She felt him walk up behind her. 'You didn't? Are you sure?'

'Yes, I'm quite sure. I left it on my bed downstairs.'

She couldn't help but notice his face drop slightly.

'So does that mean you don't want to sleep with me?'

Her heart beat picked up a notch at his wording but she still felt a lack of clarity. When he said "sleep with me" was that literal or a euphemism?

Either way she knew what her answer was and she decided to be brave, after all it had worked downstairs. She turned and took a step closer to him and placed her hand on his chest.

'No, I do...I really, really do.'

She saw his expression soften, a small smile playing on his lips as he put a hand on her hip and pulled her closer still.

'Molly.' His voice was barely a whisper but it sent shudders through her body. He was going to kiss her, she could read it in every movement of his face and body. She licked her lips and leant up to meet him, her eyes fluttering shut, waiting for the moment that his lips met hers. She could feel his breath on her face, his hand tightening on her hip and his other sliding into her hair and cupping her face but just at that moment there was a scream from downstairs.

They jumped apart and both started to move towards the door. That was no ghostly or recorded scream it was very recognisably Mrs Hudson.

Just as with the night before John was leaving his room at the same time as they did and the three of them ran down the stairs to the older woman's room.

Greg had beat them to it and was leading her out and Molly could see just how shaken up Mrs Hudson looked.

'What is it?' Sherlock barked at Lestrade.

He answered, his face dark with anger. 'The bed...you'll see. It's just cruel...this guy's a right bastard. Come on, let's get you a brandy.'

They made their way into the room and Molly flinched as she saw what had been done. Mrs Hudson had obviously thrown back the covers ready to climb into bed but their tormentor had hidden at least a dozen spiders under the duvet and sheet. They were crawling over the pillows and her night things, some now dropping onto the floor where John ground them up under his heel.

'She could have had a heart attack Sherlock. This isn't funny any more.'

Sherlock rounded on him. 'Did I ever say it was funny?'

Before they could continue their argument though there was another cry, this time from upstairs.

John rolled his eyes. 'For God's sake...what now?'

They all made their way back out of the room and up the stairs. Molly felt like she was trapped in a ridiculous farce of a horror film running from one crisis to another.

This time it was Sarah coming out of the bathroom looking white as a sheet. She fell into John's arms.

'What? What was it?'

'I saw her...in there...dressed in white. She...she pointed at me... me I was wrong.'

Sherlock moved passed the couple and into the bathroom and Molly followed him. She could hear Sarah telling John that she wouldn't stay a moment longer.

Sherlock was scouring the bathroom until he honed in on a small black box, barely an inch squared, fixed to the wall opposite the mirror. The mirror itself was fogged up with steam and Molly could see the imprint of a hand in the bottom right hand corner and she pointed it out to Sherlock.

'Easy enough to have left that prior to Sarah coming in...the mirror then fogs up and shows the handprint. And this here...it's a small projector.'

He fiddled with it and a moment later Molly saw the ghostly vision of a small child projected onto the mirror. He was grey and wearing old fashioned, ragged clothing and he slowly held his hand out beseechingly.

Molly shivered and grimaced. She wasn't surprised it had scared Sarah.

Sherlock took a penknife out of his pocket and prised the box off the wall

'Come on.'

He and Molly made their way back down into the kitchen where the others were all gathered. Their voices quieted as Sherlock made his way in and threw the projector onto the table. He explained what it was and John picked it up and examined it.

'I don't care what it was I'm not staying.'

Sarah's voice was firm and soon joined by Mrs Hudson. 'I have to agree. I'm sorry Sherlock. I know this is what he wants, for us all to flee, but my heart can't take another shock like that.'

Greg had been tapping on his phone. 'I've ordered a cab. There's a Bed and Breakfast just five miles from here. I think it might be best if we transferred ourselves there. Staying here is just too risky...we don't know who or what we're dealing with and I for one don't want to take the risk.'

Sherlock huffed. 'John, you'll stay.'

John looked up and slowly shook his head. 'Sorry Sherlock, I need to go with Sarah. I'll be back in the morning.'

One by one they were all deserting him and Molly could see a sadness in Sherlock's eyes. He turned to her.

'Molly?'

Well, what do you think? Should she stay or should she go?