Molly couldn't help looking around as she stood at Jim's door. Was someone following her? Was she wrong to come? The problem was that now that Mycroft Holmes suspected her, she expected every minute for some horrible fate to befall her. It was almost almost a relief to walk inside Jim's flat and only have to deal with the nagging fear that she was being played.

"Come in," Jim said.

Jim was sitting in front of the computer just as he usually was. He appeared to be like any other of the dozens of patients in adjoining flats learning to live on their own. His pale hair now had streaks of white.

"Jim."

"Call me Quincy."

"What?"

"Quincy, it's my name after all."

"How are you doing...Quincy. I don't..."

"I had a new nurse earlier this week. Apparently my regular nurse had a family emergency and had to take some time off."

"Oh, that's too bad..."

"The new nurse is a spy."

"A spy?"

"Yes, a spy. Who knows that I'm alive?"

"No one, except me that is."

"Then what did you do to make them suspect?"

"Jim."

"Quincy!"

"I think that Mycroft Holmes suspects who you are."

"Mycroft Holmes. I see. He may suspect, but if he knew for sure he'd have me by now. No, you covered your tracks too well. I am just your good friend Quincy Hoehn whom you visit out of the goodness of your heart. But how do you know that Holmes is suspicious?"

"He came to visit me. He said that Sherlock's grave had been dug up. There was a body. I had sent it to the home to be buried. A man who kidnapped children. Who made it seem like Sherlock had poisoned them." Who you had sent to poison them, she had almost said, but he didn't remember that, and she didn't want to tell him about it.

"Is that all he asked about?"

"No, he asked about your body."

"Quincy's body?"

"Moriarty's body."

"What did you say?"

"Nothing, but I don't understand. Who would dig up Sherlock's coffin?"

"It's amazing what college students will do for a dare."

"You? Did you dig up the body?"

"I arranged it, yes."

"Why?"

"I wanted to see my own face."

"Your face?"

"What did you do with the body of Quincy Hoehn?"

When she heard this. Molly's heart jumped into her mouth and she felt a sudden fear. This didn't at all sound like the gentle Jim whose bed she had sat beside in the hospital. This Jim was calculating (Call me Quincy, he'd said.) and demanding like Jim Moriarty. He must have his memory back! Perhaps he'd had it all along.

He seemed to recognize his error, because he stopped talking and rolled forward placing his arms on her hips.

"Luv, what's wrong?"

"What are you doing? What are you planning on doing? You said... you said that you only wanted to make a new life for yourself, but you're digging up bodies. This doesn't sound like leaving your past behind. You've remembered. You're going to start it all again."

"No dear, no. I only want to keep myself safe, to keep us safe. What will happen to you if they find that I'm alive? Do you think that they'll leave you alone? Let you keep your job?

I know what Moriarty did the same as everyone does, because I read it in the papers, but I don't feel any of that? I don't want revenge. I don't feel any emotion at all about that life. All I want is to protect this life, our life. I have a career. They're going to produce the sound boxes and sell them. A university even contacted me asking if I'd do lectures for their engineering class. Can you believe it, me a professor?

I want that future. An honest future. And I still haven't taken you to Paris."

Molly leaned back attempting to get out of his grip, but he clutched her tighter, worming his head beneath her jumper to kiss at the exposed skin on her waist.

"I hired a prostitute yesterday."

"What!" Molly exclaimed finally succeeding in pushing him away.

"That nurse found the condoms that you had left here. She knows I'm sexually active. It doesn't take a genius to realize you are my most frequent visitor. Oh don't look at me that way, we didn't do anything but talk.

"Her name is Diana, and she has a seven year old son. She's in terrible debt, and it's the only way that she can find to protect him. I stand to make quite a bit of money from this invention. I can help her get enough to move away, get a better life."

"Why would you do that?"

"She's agreed to come every week. To give us a cover."

"A cover for what?"

"A cover for this."

Jim tugged on Molly so that she tripped, then he twisted her body in his arms so that she sat in his lap, her legs sticking over the edge of the chair. Jim lifted her head and kissed her neck, running one hand through her hair to remove her ponytail while the other undid her jeans.

"Jim!" she said struggling to get out of the chair. She stilled when he placed his strong fingers over her throat. He stared down at her, his fiery intensity meeting her fear.

"Shhhh," he said. "One word to Holmes and the next time you come to visit, I will be gone forever. You hold my life in your hands everyday, and I trust you. I only ask that you trust me back. Molly, do you trust me? Say that you trust me."

He held her firmly. He was strong, and powerful, and sexy. "I trust you," she said and he smiled before putting his mouth to hers and giving her a deep and passionate kiss.