Hey, hey you guys. How are we all today? Hope you're starting to get into the Christmas spirit because I know I am. I can also confirm that my Chrsitmas fic is almost finished and I'll be starting to post it as soon as we're finished with this one…hope that's good news.

I should be cracking on with work but I'm taking a few minutes out to get this out for you, hope you enjoy it.

Chapter 10

It took less than a heartbeat but there was no decision to make.

'I'm staying.'

She saw the flash of both relief and concern wash over his face and she felt her heart swell.

'Are you sure Molly? It would be safer for you if you went with the others.'

She shook her head feeling even more determined. 'No, I'm not leaving you.'

He narrowed his eyes and seemed to be pondering something but then he gave a quick nod of his head. 'OK, then you stay with me the whole time...do you understand? You don't leave my side. He wants me to be alone and he'll do anything to achieve that. And I can't lose you Molly.'

She nodded her head and saw the confused look on John's face as he looked between them.

'Have I missed something?'

'Later John, if you're going go now...Molly and I will sort out the spiders whilst you all pack.'

Molly shuddered and scrunched up her face. 'We will?'

But he had already set off for her old bedroom and she hurried to catch him up. She shuddered even more when he started scooping up the creepy crawlies with his hands as she found a glass and some card so she could help him.

'Molly...scared of spiders? Really? You cut up dead bodies for a living.'

He chuckled and she scowled back at him. 'Yes and on the whole those bodies don't start scurrying across my living room floor. I'm not scared as such...just...not a fan.'

Half an hour later and they watched as the others drove away in the taxi and then they turned and made their way back into a now very quiet and eerie feeling house. It was well past midnight and Molly was exhausted but she got the feeling that she wasn't going to get any sleep anytime soon and not for fun reasons.

'So, what now?'

She turned to Sherlock who looked down on her and she saw something shift in his eyes and it made her blush and feel shy all of a sudden.

'Now, we finish what we were going to do upstairs Molly.'

He cupped her face in one large hand, leant down and kissed her.

His lips pressed against her own and she opened her mouth to him letting him deepen the kiss as he pulled her closer. In that moment she forgot all about the hauntings and the tricks and harassments. Her whole world just narrowed down to her and Sherlock and the fact that he was kissing her.

Her hands slid up from his shirt to wrap around his neck and she could feel his body pressed up against her own and it was sending all sorts of signals down into to her very soul until she was moaning into his mouth and wishing they were closer to a bed.

Eventually they had to separate and he leant his forehead against her own as he tried to get his breathing back under control and she loved how affected he was. When he spoke his voice was low, barely a whisper.

'God, Molly, I wish we could do more but he's here somewhere...maybe even watching us right now...'

That had her pulling back and looking around them and just as she did everything went black as the lights switched off and the house was plunged into darkness.

She clutched at Sherlock even as he started to pull away from her.

'We need to get some light...come on.'

She took a deep breath and loosened her hold on him taking his hand instead so he could guide them back towards the kitchen. Thankfully, now her eyes had adjusted somewhat there was just enough moonlight coming through the windows to help them see where they were going.

Once in the kitchen Sherlock searched through the drawers until he found a torch. He let out a quiet 'thank God' when he switched it on and a wide beam of light lit up the room.

'Let's just check the fuse box. I suspect whatever he's done will have disabled it but it's worth looking.'

They found it in the utility room off the kitchen and near the back door but just as Sherlock had thought the fuses had been removed completely.

Just at that moment an unearthly howl echoed through the house emanating from the top floor and Sherlock let out a huff. 'Better go and see what he's done now. Come on, and as I said stay right by me.'

They made their way up the stairs with the torch light bouncing around in front of them, stretching out shadows and casting strange shapes. Molly could almost feel the darkness behind her as if it were a live, visceral thing. She had no issue with staying close to Sherlock.

Another cry echoed through the house and they could tell it was coming from John and Sarah's bedroom. Sherlock flung open the door and they were confronted by the sight of what looked like blood dripping down the wall behind the bed.

The torch light swung back and forth as Sherlock searched the room for any sign of their tormentor but unsurprisingly the room was empty bar themselves.

He made his way over to the wall and touched the liquid and Molly saw him sniff it and rub it between his fingers. It looked very dramatic running down the wall in thick rivulets and Molly asked Sherlock how it had been done.

He shrugged and glanced up. I suspect he's drilled small holes up near the coving and then he's piped animal blood through. Simple but effective.

There was a sudden click and a whoosh from behind them and before Molly could even turn a knife sliced through the air just to one side of her and hit Sherlock.

'Ahh...shit...'

The torch fell to the floor and she screamed and lurched forwards trying to see how badly he was injured but without the light she couldn't see anything. She dropped to the floor and scrambled to catch the torch which had rolled under the bed.

As she did she called up to him. 'Sherlock, are you alright?'

She heard him sit down heavily...or had he collapsed...onto the bed and only felt some relief when he replied.

'Yes, I'm OK. I think it was a glancing blow, it wasn't sharp enough to actually embed itself. Designed more to frighten than to injure.'

By now she'd caught hold of the rubber sleeve of the torch and she stood back up and washed the light over Sherlock.

He was holding his arm up and she saw that whilst his shirt had been torn and there was a spreading darkness of blood on its edges the actual wound was more of a gash and certainly not deep.

'Come on let's get you back downstairs and find a first aid kit.'

He shook his head and brushed her hand away. 'It's nothing. I've had worse.'

She was about to protest when there was another crash, this time from the corridor housing some of the older, unused, rooms.

Molly left the room feeling Sherlock hard on her heel as she ran towards the noise but before she could enter the corridor to that part of the house he grabbed her and pointed down the stairs.

'It's a distraction, come on.'

He took the light and instead ran down the stairs. Molly followed but he was too fast and she felt the darkness seeping around her as he moved ahead with the torch light and it only got worse as he ran into the kitchen.

As soon as he'd turned the corner the hallway reverted to pitch black...even the moonlight had gone, maybe lost behind the clouds momentarily. Molly had to slow her speed in the absence of any light and all of her others senses rose to high alert.

As she reached the bottom of the stairs she heard a noise from her right and before she could even scream she felt an arm around her waist and another over her mouth. Whoever it was was strong enough to bodily lift her and he started to carry her towards the older part of the house.

Molly used her nails to tear at the skin on the hand over her mouth and she heard her assailant swear but he didn't let go. Just as she started to lose hope though there was a wash of torch light and she heard Sherlock shouting her name and running towards them.

Whoever had hold of her immediately dropped her and pushed her hard so she fell against Sherlock blocking him from following.

He managed to catch her before she hit the floor and as she got her balance she pushed him away. 'Go...get him...I'll catch you up.'

She saw him nod quickly and then he was off chasing down the corridor and after taking a quick breath she made her way after him. He ducked right into the room with all the boxes and by the time Molly caught up she could see the torchlight disappearing into what looked like a black hole.

Every part of her was screaming at her to stop, to let Sherlock go on alone but she couldn't, she wouldn't abandon him. So instead she girded herself and she plunged in after him. She had to almost crouch to get through the gap in the panelling but once through the tunnel opened up so she could stand without hitting her head. It immediately descended downwards and she held onto the walls as she slithered her way down, barely able to see where she was putting her feet, wishing she had a torch of her own.

After about 50 metres it started to level out. Thankfully Sherlock was now going slower and it didn't take her long to catch him up. They were in a long dark corridor and she could see that it was roughly hewn out of stone. The floor was smooth from centuries of use, wherever this led to it had once been well used.

They could see a light bobbing in the distance sometimes disappearing as the tunnel turned and twisted and Molly could hear their assailant's footsteps slapping on the stone and echoing back towards them. But no matter how fast they went he was getting away from them. He just knew the terrain better and could go quicker.

Molly could feel her heart racing in her chest, her breathing getting ragged as she tried to keep up. But she had to admit that even through the fear it was exhilarating. No wonder John enjoyed working with Sherlock.

There was a shout from up ahead and more lights could be seen bouncing off the walls and moving around and Molly couldn't understand what was happening. All she knew was that there was more than one person up ahead and fear flooded through her at what they might be heading towards. She'd assumed this man was working alone but maybe she was wrong...maybe Sherlock was...what if there were more of them? They'd be outnumbered, she wasn't a fighter and Sherlock would be on his own.

She pulled at his arm trying to slow him. 'Wait, Sherlock...stop.'

He loosened her hold though and started to run. Fear flooded through her as she started to lag behind him. She urged her muscles to work harder trying to catch him up...not wanting him to confront whoever it was alone but not knowing what she'd be able to do to help him. She wished she'd had the foresight to bring some kind of weapon.

There was a shout, a sharp cry, and she could hear scuffling. She couldn't quite make out who was shouting or what was happening and it had her running even though she could barely see anything. She had to help Sherlock, no matter what.

Our Molly is no coward is she…heading straight into the fight. But who or what is waiting for her? Oh and let's not forget we've had another kiss.