A.N: Hello my fellow Sherlockians or Cumbercollective.

I just letting you now that I will be using quotes and events from Season 3 in different contexts in my story. I am not trying to steal anything from the fantastic Moffat/Gatiss alliance; I am just trying to make my story ring 'true' and in characters.

Love you all

Steffy2106

Chapter 9:

Molly was in the middle of an autopsy when Tom walked into the morgue.

"Hi," he said, standing by the door. She had to give it to him - he was trying very hard not to show her how much the body was affecting him.

Molly put her scalpel down. "Is everything alright?"

"Yeah I just….I just thought we could get lunch together. Maybe in your office?" He added, showing her the plastic bag he was holding.

"Sure go ahead, I'll join you in a minute." Molly was not the kind to leave her work half-finished and under normal circumstances she would have refused, but Tom was slipping away. He had been on edge for the past 4 days, ever since she had come back from John and Mary's party. She wasn't sure what had happened, exactly. He'd told her he was fine, but she always knew better. She hoped that he had come to the morgue to talk. Good or bad, she had to know what was going on.

"So what is it?" She asked as soon as she walked into the room. She was in no mood to play around - if Tom wanted to leave her, it was better to be straight about it and rip it off like a Band-Aid.

"Don't you want to sit down?" said Tom, pointing to a chair.

Molly shook her head. "No, just talk. We've been beating around the bush long enough. Just talk to me, hard as it is… I can take it."

Tom took a deep breath. "I got a fantastic job offer."

"Oh…" Molly sat down. She hadn't expected that. "That's great news, why do you look like someone kicked your puppy?"

"It's not in London Molly, It's in Cambridge."

"I see." She said reaching for a random bundle of food. "What did you tell them?" She asked, dreading his answer.

"I told them that I was engaged and that it was a decision I had to make with my fiancée. We still have time; I have until next month to give them my answer."

Molly nodded silently, chewing at her food. She had no idea on what to tell him… well actually the only thing she wanted to tell him was 'I love London, just refuse the job…we're fine here, no?' but she didn't even know what this job was and she felt immediately selfish for thinking that.

"I'll be in charge of the whole department, quite a promotion I might say. They will pay the full relocation and my yearly wage will go up of 50 percent."

"You really want it, don't you?"

Tom shrugged one shoulder. "Well sure I would, but we're engaged and you need to be a full part of the decision."

"What about me though? My job? It's not like are a lot of pathologist jobs available you know."

"With my wage increase and the cost of living in Cambridge compared to London, we would have a much higher purchasing power even if we only have one salary."

Molly frowned, displeased. "What are you saying? You don't want me to work anymore? I have nothing against stay at home wives and moms, Tom, but we talked about it and it's not who I am."

Tom shook his head. "No, it's not what I am saying Moll. It just I remember a few months ago you talked about doing some specialization…Domalogy or something"

"Dermatopathology."

"Yes! Well if you can't find a job right away, why not go back to school? With my new job we could easily live with one wage, it's all I am saying."

Molly sighed. "Can I have some time to think about it? I mean, it's quite a change."

"Of course. It's a decision we have to make together I know that. It's just-" He shook his head, putting some food in his mouth.

"It's just what, Tom?"

"Really consider it okay? Check the jobs or the university."

Molly put the food container heavily on the desk and leaned back on her chair. She didn't like the lack of trust from Tom. "Why wouldn't I?"

"It seems that your prerogatives changed recently. You – You just don't seem as committed to our relationship as you once were."

"Tom, that's not true. What can I do to prove it?"

Tom looked at the clock. "Just think about Cambridge Moll, just give this idea a fair shot."

"I will, I swear."

Tom nodded, giving her a small smile. "Good. Here's the full package and the job description for you to have a look at." He added, reaching for an envelope in his coat pocket. "I have to go back to work, I'll see you tonight." He kissed her forehead and left.

Molly looked at the envelope and ran her hand over its smooth surface. She knew she would have to look at it and give it an honest and fair consideration, but there was a part in her heart that hurt at the simple idea of leaving London… though she refused to even acknowledge the reason why.

You can't keep doing that to yourself or to him, Molly. People don't think twice before leaving you why should you keep doing it. She thought, angrily folding the envelope in her bag before throwing the remaining of the food away and going back to her autopsy.

SHSHSHSHSHSHSHHSHSHSHSHSHSHHSHSHSHSHSHHSHSHSS

"Hello, brother dear."

"Mycroft…" Sherlock sighed as soon as his brother entered the flat. "Did John call you? He said he wouldn't."

"No, why? Is there any reason for Dr. Watson to call me?"

"What? No. Why are you here Mycroft?"

"Can't one man come to see his brother?" asked Mycroft, twirling his umbrella.

"Not you, no. What do you want?"

Mycroft sat on John's chair across from Sherlock. "Aren't you going to offer me a tea?"

"I didn't intend to."

"Your manners are getting worse and worse, little brother. Do I need to inform Mummy?"

Sherlock growled. "Don't push me, Mycroft I am really not in the mood."

"What mood are you in for, brother of mine?"

Sherlock shrugged. "I don't know, planning your murder, maybe?"

Mycroft sighted, rolling his eyes. "Don't forget I'm the smart one, Sherlock and I'm pretty sure you've planned my murder over and over again. I don't think there is a scenario you didn't think of. When did you start planning my murder? When you were 12, right?"

"11, actually but you make a valid point, I figured 48 ways to kill you."

"I feel special; I deserve a special place in your mind palace."

Sherlock snorted, looking away to his skull.

"Tea?"

"Mrs. Hudson, we need tea!" Sherlock shouted at the top of his lungs. "So, stop playing around Mycroft what do you want?"

"I was concerned little brother. It has been over a month since the killing of the priest and since then nothing, not a single case. It's not like you; I had to come check on you." Mycroft was drumming his fingers on the arms of his chair which was a clear indication for Sherlock that he was hiding something.

"Don't you have your little spies to do that? I'm sure I am at least a level 5 in your book."

"A 6 actually and they don't know you as well as I do."

"Sherlock Holmes," said Mrs. Hudson, coming into the flat with a tray full of tea and cookies. "How many times do I need to tell you that I'm your landlady, not your housekeeper? You cannot give me orders, especially not in that manner!"

"And yet here you are with what I asked," said Sherlock, still keeping the eyes on Mycroft.

She sighed, putting the tray down loudly on the coffee table. "Somebody should teach you manners young man, I would love to meet your mother." She said with clear reprobation.

"I will give you her number. Thanks you Mrs. Hudson," said Mycroft with a bright smile.

Sherlock glared at him. "Thank you, Mrs. Hudson."

Mycroft reached for a cup. "You know the Occam Razor theory Sherlock?"

"Now you're just insulting me, brother. Did you forget I have a chemistry degree?"

"What does this theory say?"

"When you have two competing theories that make exactly the same predictions, the simpler one is the better."

"They are both dead Sherlock, the woman was murdered and the police proved it. Why do you have to make it so complicated? Just drop it and move on, this story holds no interest."

Sherlock looked at his brother, silently trying to deduce him. Mycroft has always been the hardest to decipher but there was genuine concern in his eyes…Sherlock's eyes slit with suspicion. There was not only concern in his eyes, there was fear there too. Sherlock almost never saw fear within Mycroft. "What are you afraid of Mycroft? Of what I might find out?"

"What are you talking about? I have no fears."

"Lies." Sherlock rolled his eyes. "Listen. Either you are straight with me or you walk out. Even if being straight is not in your habit." He added with a crooked smile.

"Very funny Sherlock, I might have been offended if it came from anyone else but from you…"

"What that is supposed to mean?"

Mycroft smiled. "I think we both know what I mean. In your case, you have no idea what sex even is."

Sherlock opened his mouth to reply but Mycroft raised his hand dismissively.

"That's not the point Sherlock. The point is you don't know what you are up against."

"But you do….How?" Asked Sherlock, leaning closer, resting his arms on his legs.

"It doesn't matter, just-"

"How?!" Sherlock shouted. He was losing his temper now; he didn't like to be left into the dark.

"Mrs. Hudson didn't call only John, she called me too."

"And what did you find that I missed?"

"You didn't miss anything, you just didn't know where to look. If I tell you, can you promise me to leave it be?"

Sherlock shook his head. "You know I won't. Tell me or don't, it doesn't matter in the end I will find out what you're hiding from me, I always do."

Mycroft nodded, he knew his brother's tenacity and what worried him most was that, when his brother was highly frustrated and obsessed, a drug relapse was not too far and this was not something he would ever allow to happen again. "What about if I told you to call me before you do anything rash? Will that work?"

"What are you considering as being rash? It seems that we have very different views on the matter."

"Anything that might cost your life, other people's lives or threaten the security of our nation."

Sherlock pondered that for a minute. "Fine, I can agree to that."

Mycroft left out a small humourless laugh before taking a deep breath. "Alright."

Sherlock kept his face emotionless, but inside he was bubbling with excitement as he was about to get some of the answers he had been looking for over two months. He linked his fingers together and rested them under his chin. "Go on."

"When I came here you were sleeping and John was taking your drawings down."

"John drugged me." Sherlock said with some remaining indignation.

"Good for him. Anyway, I saw the symbol, it's a symbol I know quite well, brother and I know it is something you will never be able to take down, many have tried and failed….for centuries."

Sherlock frowned. "Stop with the romancing brother, just spit it out."

"Freemasonry."

Sherlock laughed. "Come on Mycroft, I know freemasonry, I even know you're one." Sherlock shook his head. "I know the freemasonry symbols and this one is not." He added taping his notebook.

"It is Sherlock, you don't know everything. You are smart but I am smarter. And the symbol is the symbol of a very secret part of freemasonry, so secret even I don't know the members."

"You don't know? But you know everything."

Mycroft smiled. "I know what I want to, brother and even I know it's better that I don't know what this group is doing."

"What group Mycroft?"

"Illuminati."

Sherlock snorted. "Come on be serious, Mycroft. Illuminatis disappeared centuries ago, it's just not-" Sherlock stopped talking when he saw his brother impassible face. Everything about Mycroft was screaming 'truth'. "You're not joking, are you?"

"La plus belle des ruses du diable est de vous persuader qu'il n'existe pas. "

"The finest trick of the devil is to persuade you that he does not exist." Sherlock nodded. "Baudelaire is always a very fitting reference."

"I rather you leave them alone Sherlock, they have a web that even I can't comprehend. I can protect you but I won't be able to protect you against them."

"I don't need your protection."

"Oh but you do, you just don't know to what extent." Mycroft sighed standing up. "Now you know what you wanted to know. I know you won't listen to me and you won't drop it, but try at least to be careful."

"You know me."

"Yes…Sadly I do." Mycroft walked to the door, but stopped just before crossing the threshold. "No matter what you think, I'm not worried about them or my job or even this country. I am worried about you." Mycroft closed his eyes. "Losing you….Losing you would break my heart."

Sherlock started to cough as he choked on the tea he was in the process of swallowing. When the coughing fit was over he looked up to see that Mycroft was already gone.

It was maybe for the best, what the bloody hell was he supposed to say to that?

Sherlock grinned, scanning the books on his shelves, trying to find the book he needed. Illuminati, this case just went from a 7 to a 9.