A/N : Wow! overwhelming response to the last chapter, i'm so glad everyone is enjoying it! i put off writing for so long but this has really helped me find my writing spirit again and i'm really excited for the story. I have put up very regular updates the last few days but just as a warning i'm back to work as of next week so don't expect it as regular!

As ever, I wish these character belonged to me, but i'm yet to get offered a writing gig at the BBC :P

The past few days had passed by seamlessly fast from Molly's perspective. Sherlock had text her at least once a day, in the middle of the night most likely deducing from afar that Tom would either have gone home or gone to sleep.

Molly hadn't replied to a single one yet and she knew she was clutching at straws, Mary's wedding was approaching at such a speed that Molly felt slightly sick from it all. Saying that it could just be the morning sickness which had descended upon Molly like hell on earth, where the only thing she could just about stomach was peanut butter sandwiches. She tried to ignore the overwhelming news of her pregnancy over the passing weekend, mainly because she had no idea how to handle the news. Should she tell Sherlock? More importantly should she tell Tom whose heart was likely to be left broken after she came clear about her one night wonder.

Molly sighed, shuffling the paperwork that was in front of her on the desk. She had come back to work Monday morning feeling nauseous and exhausted, she'd tried to write out a pro and con list of how to approach the problem of her pregnancy, however she'd ended up with equal lists on either side.

Not only was that an issue, but the threat from the strange man had left her feeling uneasy, Tell Mr Holmes we found his heart. The words had echoed in her brain continuously, casting a shadow over her shoulder for the past few days. She had tried to find a cryptic pattern, look for a code that would mean something different but every suggestion her brain had made, left her feeling further away from the problem.

The lab door swung open and Molly jumped, squeaking loudly. Sherlock and his godforsaken Belstaff swept into the room with John not far behind him.

"Molly." His tone was not pleasant.

"Sherlock!"

John protested behind him, with a very tired expression on his face, clearly that had been bickering again.

"Well she wont respond to my insistent text messaging and I want to know why!" he replied shortly, his cool blue gaze settling on Molly and making her heart skip a beat.

"Molly" he began again, this time only focussing on her and walking a lot closer to her, his body giving off a heat that left her cheeks flushed pink.

Maybe it was the pregnancy hormones or maybe Molly was beginning to become immune to his charming nature but Molly stood her ground and look up at the man whose child she was definitely carrying.

"Yes." She replied, refusing to step backwards away from him. He paused momentarily, looking her up and down before frowning slightly. Shaking his head, she watched his eyes narrow slightly before he recalled his previous trail of thought.

'You were attacked by someone last week ad you have et to explain yourself."

Moly bristled at his demanding tone and walked around her desk away from him.

"Because it was none of your business Sherlock"

She put her clipboard down again and rested her hands on the desk, wincing slightly as her bruised wrist felt the pressure. Sherlock watched her before going to the other side of the desk placing his hands either side of hers and looking right at her.

"If you get hurt it is most definitely my business" he countered, his tone wavering slightly that it almost sounded like he cared. Shaking her head, Molly ignored him, reminding herself it was not above him to use her devotion to him as a weapon in the past.

"It was just a guy" she replied shortly, meeting his gaze.

"What guy? what did he look like? I presume he didn't give a name."

Molly sighed again, feeling her stomach churn. Now would definitely not be a good time to throw up. She felt another surge of annoyance at his dumb questioning

"Funnily enough no, Sherlock he didn't. He was too busy trying to scare the hell out of me to stop for pleasantries."

Sherlock gave a short bark of laughter, laced with bitterness.

"In fact all he said was to warn you"

That recaptured his attention, he leant closer to her across the desk and Molly held her position, desperately trying not inhale too much as the smell of him was driving her insane.

"What did he say Molly"

Molly paused, she had really come up with nothing and as much as she pained to say it, it would help to have his enormous brain to give her some answers. After deliberating in her head whether to tell him or not, she came to a conclusion.

"He told me They know about your heart"

Molly watched the colour drain from Sherlocks face and he stumbled backwards slightly. John, who had watched their discussion reacted similarly, his eyes widened and he too seemed to lose the colour in his face. Neither man spoke whereas Molly grew more and more aggravated until she exploded.

"WILL SOMEBODY EXPLAIN WHAT IS HAPPENING"

Sherlock looked at John and then back at Molly.

"It seems your boyfriend in IT is playing another game"

Molly felt a chill run down her spine, it couldn't be Moriarty, he was dead dammit. Molly had performed his autopsy herself and had taken a great pleasure in seeing his cold dead body. She looked stunned and felt her heart rate increase and a cold sweat break out across her skin.

"It.. It cant be" She whispered to the men. Sherlock seemed to snap back to life again and grabbed her good hand.

"What did he look like? The man?A s much detail as you can remember it's very important!"

"He was ginger, had a rugged beard and he liked to whistle" she offered, seeing the disappointment in Sherlocks eyes.

"Is that it?"

The bluntness of his voice hit her like a brick and Molly snatched her hand away from Sherlocks.

"What do you mean is that it!" She cried

"Well i would have thought given your close proximation to the man that you would have been able to tell me a bit more than his whistling habits Molly."

Molly felt her cheeks burn with embarrassment.

"I know you're no detective but surely anyone with half a mind and a will to live their life happily would have paid more attention to the details" Molly wished he would stop talking.

"Though given your track record, you quite like the idea of a completely psychopath wooing you off your feet just so that you feel wanted"

His words cut through her like a hot butter in knife and before she could react, Molly reached out and slapped him across the face, the force behind it turned his head and immediately left an angry red mark on his pale complexion.

"Dont You ever talk to me like that, not now, not ever. Now get out of my lab!" She shouted at him.

Sherlock opened his mouth to argue and thought again, his eyes glinting dangerously in the harsh lighting of the lab.

"NOW."

She shouted again, feeling herself get dizzy. Before she could shout again, she rushed over to the bin by her desk and emptied the contents of her stomach into it. Sherlock rushed to her side, grabbing her hair when she flinched away from him. With all the dignity she had left she pushed him away and stood up, closing her eyes to fight the waves of dizziness. After a few seconds she looked past Sherlock and at John.

"Can you get Mary to pop down after her shift?"

"Are you o-"

"please?'

John nodded, not risking being at the wrath of the small pathologist and one of her slaps.

"Yes Ma'am"

Walking over to Sherlock John touched his shoulder, encouraging him to stand up. The detective stopped and stared at the woman in front of him and paused, he looked at her again, his cheek a fiery red.

"Something is different about you" he murmured to her.

Molly felt her heart stutter, he knew.

"I can't read what it is, how did you become so difficult to read?" he continued.

Molly blushed slightly and sat back away from him.

"I'll work it out Molly." he said, pausing "I wont let you get hurt again."

He left after that, John apologising to her before chasing after him, his quiet shouts echoing in the corridors of the hospital.

Molly sat still for a few moments chewing her lower lip, she couldn't work out whether his penultimate statement was meant for her or for the man he now knew about.

All Molly knew is she needed to act… and fast.