Author's note 1: Thanks so much to those of you who reviewed the last chapter. I am well aware that without reader support and encouragement, I could so easily become one of those writers who abandons their writing aspirations and fades into obscurity.

Molly dragged herself out of bed in the morning. She felt terrible. She had a headache from crying herself to sleep the night before. Last night had been her wedding night and she had so longed for Sherlock to teach her, to make her his. She loved him so desperately, but he had rejected her. He didn't really want her.

She silently walked into the main cabin, selecting at random one of the gowns she had been given by Mrs. Hudson. It didn't matter what she wore anyway. She could have just as easily donned the boy's clothes again, for all the attention Sherlock would give her. Her eyes blurred with tears yet again and she brushed them away impatiently, annoyed at her weakness.

It was as well he was not in the cabin. He must have gone out earlier, to perhaps talk with the captain. Wasn't today the day he was predicting they would meet up with that pirate? He was probably making plans.

There was a tray of food on the table, but she didn't feel like eating. Instead, she decided to leave the cabin and cross the deck to look out over the ocean.

As soon as she did so, Molly saw that the ship appeared to be completely still, and she wondered what was happening. Perhaps Sherlock would tell her when he came back. She was still standing there, when she heard the sound of approaching footsteps.

She turned to see John Watson approaching.

"Good morning, Molly," he greeted her with a smile. "It must be nice to be able to dress in a woman's clothes once more. I'm sure Sherlock appreciates it."

"I do not think he cares, one way or another," She said in a low voice, turning back towards the ocean and blinking rapidly to hold back a new wave of tears.

"That is not the impression I got when I saw the two of you together last evening. I think Sherlock very much appreciated the fact that you are a woman."

Molly turned back to him. "You are mistaken. 'Tis of no consequence to him that I am a woman. He doesn't want me. He intends to have our marriage not even acknowledged."

John gave her a sympathetic glance. "I'm sorry, Molly. I was hoping he would change his mind about that."

"He…he told you his intentions?" If he has discussed his plans with John, it is for certain he will not change them, she thought despondently.

John pressed his lips together briefly, before answering. "I'm afraid he did, and I told him he was a moron. I can see quite clearly that your affections are engaged with him."

"I love him, but he does not love me. I cannot make him love me." Tears spilled from her eyes as she added, "He just wants to be rid of me once we return to Dover." She could not help the tremor in her voice as she added, "I wish I had never met him."

John stepped closer to put his arms around her comfortingly, and she sobbed against his shoulder.

Suddenly, she was pulled away from John's comforting embrace, and Sherlock snarled, "What the hell do you think you're doing, John? I'll thank you to remember that Molly is my wife, not yours."

Molly looked at Sherlock in surprise. His hands were clenched and he looked furious.

John stared at his friend, then said rebukingly, "Calm yourself, Sherlock. I was merely comforting her. She could hardly turn to you for that, when you are the cause of her distress."

Sherlock deflated visibly and his hands relaxed. "I'm sorry, John. I just, well I guess I was mistaken in my thoughts."

John gave him a shrewd look, and folded his arms. "Seems to me you were acting jealous."

"I was not jealous,"retorted Sherlock scornfully. "I merely wish to make sure that nobody, including yourself, attempts to act in an untoward manner with her."

Molly looked at the two men with interest. She could see that John was now becoming rather agitated himself. It seemed they had forgotten her presence when John next spoke.

"And what would you do about it if I was interested in her, Sherlock? You don't seem to want her. What if I decided I wanted to be with Molly instead of Mary?" John spoke in a hard tone, and Molly had the distinct feeling that he was baiting his friend, in order to get a reaction from him.

Sherlock suddenly seemed very uncomfortable. "You wouldn't do that to me."

John raised an eyebrow. "Do what to you? You are a married man in name only, and it seems you wish to not even acknowledge that once we return to port. Would you prefer that Captain Lestrade take an interest? I'm sure I saw a glint of admiration in his eyes last night when he performed your wedding ceremony."

"Keep talking, John, and I will punch you like I punched that sailor yesterday," threatened Sherlock through clenched teeth, his hands balled into fists once again.

John merely laughed and said, "Perhaps you should use your superior intellect to deduce why you are having this reaction."

"I am not jealous," bellowed Sherlock, raising one of his clenched fists towards John belligerently.

"Methinks the man doth protest too much," said John knowingly, tauntingly. He seemed wholly unconcerned that his friend was acting as if he might strike him.

Molly had had enough of the men's arguing at that point. The last thing she wanted to see was tension between the men once again, or to be the cause of that tension. "Stop it, just stop it, both of you! I cannot bear it. I thought you were friends, and you are acting like enemies." She turned from them and hurried back to Sherlock's cabin, wrenched the door open, went inside and slammed the door. Then she returned to the small cabin and closed that door before throwing herself onto the bunk. Her headache was now excruciating. The new tears running down her face were not helping with that. It was most unfortunate that her cabin did not have a lock on the door, or she would certainly have locked it.

A few minutes later, she heard Sherlock enter his cabin, then there was a knock on her door. "Molly, I need to talk to you."

She made no response. Perhaps he would think she was asleep if she kept very quiet.

Unfortunately, he seemed determined to talk to her, and she heard the door open.

She lay there with her eyes closed, pretending she had not heard him enter.

His footsteps approached and a moment later she felt his hand resting lightly on her shoulder. "I am well aware you are not asleep. Please, Molly, listen to me. I'm sorry I upset you. I should not have behaved that way. You probably think I am easily provoked to anger, but that is not usually the case." she felt the bunk dip slightly as he sat on the edge of it. "I have apologised to John for my behaviour, and I hope you'll forgive me as well."

Molly barely heard what he was saying. The pain was now so intense that she whimpered and put a hand to her forehead.

"Molly?" Sherlock asked anxiously. "What ails you?"

She whimpered again, as she opened her eyes and felt as if the room whirled about her. "My…my head. It aches so, and the room is spinning around me."

Sherlock's lips tightened and he thrust a hand through his hair. "God. This is all my fault for upsetting you. I will fetch a small dose of laudanum for you from John."

Her voice was barely above a whisper, as she said, "Thank you, Sherlock." Then she closed her eyes once again, in an effort to stop that feeling of the room spinning about her

He left her then and returned a few minutes later. Molly opened her eyes when she felt Sherlock sit once again beside her, and she gratefully accepted a glass with a small amount of liquid in it. "Drink this, Molly. After you have slept and are feeling better, we will talk, okay?" Her heart beat almost painfully at the note of concern in his voice and the rather tender expression on his face. How could he act so caring with her, yet not wish to be with her as a husband?

She nodded her thanks, lifting the glass to her lips and draining it of its contents. Sherlock took the empty glass and placed it on the chest of drawers, then sat again and took her hand, soothing her by rubbing circles on her palm that, despite the ache of her head, still sent tingles through her. It was not long before she felt the effects of the laudanum as the pain lessened and she became drowsy. She was barely aware of it when Sherlock picked her up in his arms. She made a little sign of contentment and was vaguely aware that he carried her into the main cabin and laid her gently on the bed. She had the vague impression that his lips touched her forehead. Then sleep claimed her fully.

When Molly awoke, she felt much better. The pain in her head was gone and she felt rested. She opened her eyes and sat up.

Sherlock, apparently sensing her movement, turned his attention away from the book he had been reading while comfortably ensconced in an armchair. "Oh, you are awake. How are you feeling?"

"Much better, thank you," she responded, clasping her hands together in front of her.

"I am glad to hear it. There are matters I must discuss with you." His voice held a serious note, despite the smile on his lips.

"I am ready to listen." Molly was expecting him to talk once again of their marriage, and the way he had behaved with John earlier, but she was mistaken.

Instead, he said, "I must inform you of what is happening. We are approaching the area in which Moriarty's ship was last seen. Even now the sails are being replaced with the tattered ones we brought, in order to make it seem as if our ship is in distress." He paused, then gave her a rather apprehensive look. "I must ask, do you know how to fire a pistol?"

Molly looked at him in surprise. "As a matter fact, I do. My father insisted that I know how to protect myself."

"Your father sounds like a very wise man," said Sherlock approvingly. There was a slight crease between his eyes as he continued. "Although I am anticipating that we shall succeed in surprising the pirates with our prepared crew, there is always the possibility that things may not go as planned."

"What is the plan?" she questioned curiously, as her heart began to accelerate in fear rather than it usually did because of Sherlock's proximity to her.

Sherlock expelled a deep breath as if to formulate his thoughts before answering. "The pirates seek out distressed ships in particular, usually ones that have sustained damage from storms. They approach the ship as if they are friendly, then board it, capture or kill the sailors and pillage it." At Molly's slight exclamation of horror, he added quickly, "In this instance, we shall be prepared for them with weapons as soon as they are all aboard."

Molly twisted her fingers together. "May I ask why you are seeking out this pirate ship? Is it simply to apprehend the man of whom you have been speaking?"

Sherlock shook his head. "It is more than that. He intercepted a ship carrying priceless jewels for Queen Victoria, and other treasures. My mission is to not only capture Moriarty, but to retrieve the jewels that were intended for the queen." his serious expression changed as a smile hovered about his lips. "If I succeed, I shall be quite a wealthy man."

Molly bit her lip, then spoke. "If you remained my husband, you would be a wealthy man and would not need to do such dangerous missions," she pointed out.

Sherlock's expression darkened at that. "I have no intention of being a kept man, Molly. Being wed at all, let alone to an heiress, is the last thing I wanted. No," he asserted in a way that made Molly's heart feel heavy with pain, "I will earn my own keep. Besides, I have always thrived on excitement and danger. That is yet another reason why I do not need a wife."

"It appears I have done nothing but complicate your life," said Molly miserably, trying, but not quite succeeding, to keep the note of anguish from her voice.

Sherlock walked over to her then and sat on the edge of the bed, taking one of her hands in his larger one. "We must just make the best of things. Of one thing I can assure you, I will not allow you to be forced into marrying another man. At the very least I shall ensure that you attain your next birthday as a free woman who can then claim her rightful inheritance."

Molly wanted to plead with him, to beg him to remain married to her, but she knew his mind would not be altered. She would just have to make the most of whatever time they had left together, and enjoy every moment she spent with him. "Thank you," she murmured, for there was nothing else she could say.

Sherlock then lifted her hand to his lips and kissed it. Her hand quivered at the touch of his lips on her skin once again, and she wished he were kissing her lips.

He stood and walked to his dressing table, then opened a drawer. He withdrew a small pistol from the interior. "It is fortunate I always come prepared with several weapons," he remarked. "This pistol is small enough for you to keep on your person. Be careful with it however. It is already loaded."

Molly got off the bed and stood, feeling the sides of her gown. To her surprise and relief, it had a pocket on either side. She held out her hand for the small weapon, and Sherlock handed it to her. The pocket concealed the pistol perfectly, and Molly gave Sherlock a tentative smile. "Now there is no need for you to protect me. I can protect myself,"she declared, trying to put on a brave face for his sake.

A sudden shout came from outside the cabin, and there was a loud knock on the door. "Lord Holmes, Lord Holmes!"

Sherlock opened the door to see one of the younger sailors. "Begging your pardon, sir, but we believe the pirate's ship has been spotted. Anderson was up in the crow's nest using his spyglass and he is certain he saw it."

"Inform the crew and make sure they are ready with their weapons, while I speak with the captain," Sherlock ordered the man, who nodded and departed.

Molly suddenly felt terror wash over her. This was truly happening, and there was no telling what the future held.

Sherlock was smiling to himself. "Ah yes, the game is afoot." The smile on his lips faded when he turned and saw Molly's stricken face.

He took a step towards her. "Molly, for now I want you to remain here. If something happens and the crew is captured, hide if you can. If you are discovered, use whatever means necessary to protect yourself." Then he added reassuringly, "I am sure it will not be necessary, however. The pirates have no reason to suspect we are armed and ready for them, so I am certain all will be well. I must leave now and talk with the captain."

Molly couldn't help herself, she closed the remaining distance between them and flung herself against his body, putting her arms around his waist and holding him tightly. "Be careful, Sherlock. I could not bear it if anything happened to you."

His arms came instinctively around her in a protective manner, and he held her close. "Fear not, little one. I shall be fine. You'll see."

"I will be praying for you." She looked up at him then with tears in her eyes, and, as if he could not help himself, his lips came down on hers.

She had not been expecting it, and her mouth opened in surprise, even as thrilling sensations washed over her once again. Unfortunately, even as she longed for him to continue, he thrust her away from him with a groan.

"God, Molly," he rasped. "Why must you always tempt me so?" He sounded almost angry and she backed away from him.

"I…I'm sorry, Sherlock. I didn't mean to..."

"I know, I know," he muttered, and to her it seemed as if he was making a conscious effort to reassert control. After a few moments he said in a more normal tone of voice. "Lock the door, Molly. Do not open it unless I tell you it is I."

"Yes, Sherlock," she whispered, as her hands clutched at the skirt of her gown.

She followed his instructions, locking the door as soon as he had exited.

Then she leaned her forehead against the door, closed her eyes and prayed with all her might that Sherlock would be safe and that the mission would be successful.

And even as she prayed, she said silently in her heart, I love you. I love you.

Author's note 2: How did you find that conversation between Sherlock and John? Do you like the way Sherlock is acting all jealous and he doesn't even recognize it as jealousy? I'm a big fan of showing Sherlock as being totally oblivious to certain things LOL.

So, the confrontation with Moriarty is almost at hand. Are you anxious to find out what will happen next? Will Sherlock succeed in his mission or will something go wrong? What do you think? You tell me. Then we'll see who is close in their own deductions!

What is it going to take for Sherlock to realize he is in love with Molly?