"Come in," he called and she hung up her coat to reveal her little black dress. She had worn it once at Sherlock's Christmas party, but it had become too small for her as happiness had added pounds. For a whim she tried it on in her flat, and finding that it fit, she had to go out.

There was no coffee or tea, but Jim was sitting by the table clutching his head. He looked up at her then, and looked up again.

"Molly," he said. His voice still surprising her in the way it came from the computer instead of his mouth. It was different now. Closer to the way his real voice had been. It even had a bit of a Celtic lilt to it.

She wrinkled her brow, "Are you alright? You seem to be in pain."

"Just a headache", he said. She leaned over his chair and brushed his hair away from his face. Her scarf hung down from her neck to hit his knee, and he reached out to take it in his hands. "I've never seen this one before. Narrow and black, like a tie."

"Oh this? It was just an experiment. Something to do with metallic yarn. I don't wear it often. Nothing much matches it."

"But your dress does. Thank you. Too bad I'm not quite up to the challenge. This damn body."

"Oh I didn't dress this way for..." Her voice trailed off. She was trying not to lie anymore.

"Help me to my bedroom please, my headache pills are there."

Molly walked around and took the handles of the chair rolling Jim into what must be his bedroom. It was sparsely furnished and neat. There was an African mask on one wall, but other than that, it was unadorned. The bed was a relatively normal one, but there was an odd set of metal bars hanging over it. They were attached to the ceiling and stabilized at the headboard.

"What is that?" Molly asked.

He looked up. "My physical therapist says that I should exercise to strengthen my arms. I do pull-ups twice a day. He rolled over to the side table and picked up a pill bottle. He swallowed two and then drank from a water bottle sitting beside it. "Help me onto the bed will you?" he said.

Molly only hesitated a moment before walking over and lifting him from his chair. He reached up and helped pull himself along using the bars, and oh my his biceps did bunch quite a bit as he crawled along them. She helped him lower himself onto the bed, and then climbed up to sit next to him when she realized that there were no chairs in the room.

Jim leaned his head back against the headboard and closed his eyes. "So Tom is finally gone, I see."

Molly looked down at the place where her ring had been and sighed. No use denying it. He was probably about to say, 'I told you so.'

"I'm not going to say, 'I told you so.' "

"No?"

"There's no need. You knew from the start that Tom wasn't man enough to keep you. You were simply lying to yourself."

"Was I?"

"Do you really want me to spell it out for you? You, Molly Hooper, like to think of yourself as a perfectly ordinary girl. That is a lie. You were never ordinary. Ordinary girls don't find pleasure in cutting up dead bodies. Ordinary girls aren't as educated as you. Ordinary girls couldn't conceal one faked death, much less two so completely that some of the smartest minds in the world don't even suspect what you've done. One would truly have to be a fool to find anything about you ordinary.

A smile crept up Molly's lips then. Who would have thought that a man who had once been one of the worst criminals in the world would compliment her. Should she be proud of it, or should she be afraid?

She looked around then. "Your voice. I hear it even though the computer is in the other room." He gestured to a pair of speakers mounted in the wall.

"They're mounted in every room now. Too practical to be without. I've also simplified the microphone. This tape is sensitive to vibrations. It sends signals to the wireless receiver there. Much less uncomfortable than the plastic collar I had before.

Molly looked closely at the thin film attached to his neck. "That's amazing," she said, "You are indeed a genius!" She sat back then and noticed the way his eyes were staring down her cleavage. She had forgotten the way that her dress had only two small straps to hold it up, not at all concealing her French bra beneath. She blushed.

He stared in her eyes then, and his look pinned her to the headboard. Then he leaned over and kissed her gently on the mouth. Molly's heart raced and a flush covered her skin. He reached out and slowly pulled her scarf off of her shoulders. It was a long scarf, a bit more than six feet.

"May I?" He asked, and she nodded although she didn't know what he was asking for since he had already taken her scarf. He took her hand then and placed it against the metal bar beside his headboard. Then he tied it in place with the edge of her scarf.

"Um, Jim?" she asked hesitantly as he tied her other wrist to the bar on the other side. "Jim, what are you doing?"

"I'm giving you what you came for. One doesn't visit one's sick friend in a dress like that unless she wants something, and now that my headache is gone I can finally give it to you."

"What? I didn't ... I wasn't," but her words were stopped when he rolled on top of her and kissed her once again. And yes, she wanted him. She wanted someone. She'd been so lonely since Tom left, and Sherlock had his own issues. What she wanted then was something simple and primal and strong to take away the threads of self-hatred that are worming their way down into her soul.

He reached down and his fingers traced up her thigh pushing aside the fabric. Suddenly she realized that she didn't completely trust this man. She tried to get up, but her hands were strapped to the bed.

"No, stop, stop!" she said and suddenly she was free. He had pulled himself completely off of the bed and back into his chair. She breathed rapidly, but when she looked at him, it was just Jim not the crazed madman he used to be. "Sorry, sorry, I panicked. We can continue if you want."

"No," he said. "This isn't the twentieth century. 'No' doesn't mean 'yes' and it's not sexy to force someone. I had decided to give you the most amazing sexual experience of your life, but I'm not touching you again unless you ask me. Unless you say to me 'Yes Jim'."

"Yes, Jim. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to panic like that. It won't happen again."

"I don't believe you. I don't think that you trust me."

"Yes, of course I do."

"Honestly?"

"I trust you. Please Jim, please!"

It was the please that did it. Faster than she could imagine he was across the bed and on her again feeling the inside of her lips with his tongue. Then he climbed up and pulled himself over using the bars until he sat astride her. He leaned over then, and opening the drawer on the side table, he removed a wicked looking knife. Molly's eyes grew as wide as saucers, and she wanted to move, but she had told him that she trusted him. He reached out and grabbed the strap of her dress. He stuck the knife under it and cut it. Then he did the same to the other strap before putting the knife on the table and pulling the dress down her body to reveal her exotic lingerie.

"Oh!" Molly said finally understanding that it was the only way to take off the dress and keep her hands tied. Jim was grinning down at her. She noticed a thin line of black stubble above his lip as he lowered his head beside hers.

"You liked that didn't you, the danger? You are a strange one, Molly dear. So unassuming on the outside, but dig a little and you reveal a lioness!"

Molly smirked at him and said, "Shut up and kiss me."

And he did, before giving her, as promised, the most amazing sexual experience of her life.