The lighting was terrible in the grey concrete detention corridor, but Mycroft gave Molly a final look over. As per plan she was flushed, heavy lidded with thwarted desire, and an air of recent sex about her. After the announcement had come the Adler was ready to talk Mycroft had touched Molly all over, kissed her thoroughly, bit her lips to plump them, and when she had least expected it, pushed aside her shirt collar and sunk his teeth deeply into her shoulder. She cried out with surprise and he responded by fingering her a little gently through the fabric of his own trousers.
"For queen and country," he said grimly, "I'm sorry if that hurt."
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a sleek penknife. She watched as he carefully weakened the thread attaching the top button of her shirt, then poked the button through hole. The button would soon fall off with any pressure.
"This is the point of no return, Molly," he said quietly. "I can't bail you out in there, and there are no second chances. If you get her talking, keep her talking, this could be our only chance,"
"If you're willing to sacrifice your life, I'm willing to sacrifice some dignity if it will help you, love," she whispered.
MHMHMHMHMHMHMHMHMHMHMHMHMH
"I'll consider telling you about Tunisia for a price, Mr Holmes. I assume you can see and hear us." Irene Adler spoke to one of the camera domes in the little interrogation room.
She sat like an empress in her orange polyester on a throne of plastic, her wrists cuffed to the table like jewelled bracelets. Her dark hair had grown in prison, and like Molly's, hung in long loose waves. Adler watched Molly enter, sizing her up with a practiced eye.
"Sorry I'm late," Molly apologized, smoothing a rumply bit of hair.
Irene laughed.
"Good God, Mycroft Holmes, you've laid out Sherlock's pet like bait for me. Poor sex-starved dominatrix, she'll fall all over herself talking for a pretty view, was that the plan?"
Molly didn't respond, but sat herself down on the other side of the metal table,
"That's cold even for you, Ice Man, offering up your own brother's toy for someone else to play with. Is that what you are, Dr Hooper, Sherlock's latest game?"
Irene turned her beautiful eyes on Molly, who was all out of fucks to give that night,
"I'm here because you asked me to be here, Miss Adler. Why did you want me?"
"How long have you and Sherlock been intimate? Who chased who? Are you a couple?"
"I can't imagine what bearing all that has on Tunisia."
"I won't say anything more unless you tell me about you and Sherlock."
"We have been, as you saw, physically involved,"
"I'm having trouble wrapping my head around it. I can't believe he would be so overcome as he was tonight."
"Try me," Molly shrugged, "I don't know what to tell you." From the corner of her eye Irene watched the top shirt button fray, the cotton around it slackening.
"I shall," Irene responded. Her voice grew low, sultry, and firm. "Take off your shirt, Dr Hooper, let's see what we're working with. Mycroft Holmes thinks he can use you to seduce me into talking, Sherlock appears to be begging for it, I want to see what's so special."
"Tell me about Tunisia," Molly repeated, leaning forward. Irene leaned forward too, their hands almost touching.
"It's a country in Africa." Irene whispered conspiratorially. She laughed again, but as close as she'd been to the other woman, she'd caught the memorable smell of a certain detective. She remembered the way he'd desperately kissed her chest - there - that spot where the button was failing, after the doctor had made him work for each kiss. A thought struck her. Sherlock's wanted Miss Hooper more than she wanted him. The thought was absurd, but rang with truth.
Molly shook back her hair, sat back in her chair, and crossed her arms under the chest. She bit her lip, sucked it in a little.
"You said you'd consider telling us about Tunisia for a price, Miss Adler. Name your price."
"I want revenge on the Holmes boys," she said. "I want them to suffer the same embarrassment I did. And then I want to be very far away from here."
"I'm sure that last part could be negotiated," Molly responded. She touched the top button of her shirt and it fell away, the smooth gap of curving skin revealing that she wore no bra underneath. "And what would it take to feel like you've had your revenge."
"Come here, my sacrificial lamb," Adler purred. She cut off sharply, and her eyes focused hard. "Pull your shirt down, there, right shoulder."
"Tell me something," Molly demanded.
"Private Ken R Eaton," Adler spat, "now do it."
Molly pulled the fabric of Mycroft's shirt down over her shoulder. A bite mark was forming, clear rings of impressions of teeth.
"Well I'll be damned," the brunette said slowly, a touch of awe in her voice. "Mycroft didn't send his brother's pet, he sent his own. You can tell which Holmes boy didn't stick with his brace."
She indulged in a little chuckle.
"You've been fucking Mycroft Holmes, and Sherlock will still pant at your heels if asked to put on a show for me. Intriguing, Dr Hooper." She sat back again and considered Molly, thinking. "So you're dear to both of them, probably a source of tension if not conflict, and here you are, mine in exchange for information. Well I'll tell you what, Molly, I'll make you a deal. Let me whisper it in your ear."
With a dry expression and a raised eyebrow, Molly stood up and well around the table. She crouched next to the prisoner. Irene could appreciate the mingled scents of Sherlock and Mycroft in Molly's hair and skin up close. She let her lips brush the shell of the younger woman's ear, felt her shiver.
"I'll give you one word for every article of clothes you remove, and a proper name in exchange for every place you touch me, and then when Mycroft and Sherlock have finally had enough of watching their lover humiliated, and there's nothing left to say, I want to be on the way to the airport with a passport, and enough cash to start a new life anywhere I want. When the plane takes off I'll give him the confirmation code he'll need."
"That will hardly be necessary," said a cold voice from the doorway. "You gave us everything we needed to know with Eaton. You can walk free tonight, we'll drop you anywhere in London you'd like. We will not, however, be providing you with a passport or funds, but you're resourceful, I'm sure you'll manage."
Irene paled, but she fixed on a perfect smile.
"Even if you found the vial, it's too well protected to just blow up, Mr Holmes. You need that code."
"Helpful, but not required, Miss Adler. Someone will be in shortly to take you back to your room and prepare you to exit."
Face steely, he put his hand on Molly's back and guided her towards the door.
"I'll give it to you for a price, Mycroft."
"Oh?" he prompted haughtily,
"I think I've cracked it," she said, suddenly smug. "It'll cost you a kiss, Mycroft."
He stumbled his next step in surprise.
"You're talking nonsense, Miss Adler."
"No, I'm quite sure. One kiss, here and now, Mycroft, and I'll give you the code in exchange for sanctuary abroad."
He looked at Molly with wide eyes, his back to the prisoner, and she could see the barest hint of confusion and fear. She gave him the tiniest nod.
Mycroft drew himself up to his full height, and stalked back into the room to where she sat. Irene raised a finger.
"Make it a good one, Mycroft, pretend you're enjoying it or it won't count, and Dr Hooper has to watch."
Taking a deep breath, he bent his head down to hers and pressed his lips to her mouth. Irene captured his, and Molly could tell even from the other side of the room it was an intimate affair, full of tongue, and leaving her feeling sick. Mycroft ended it, breaking away with a look of disgust.
"if you are quite finished, madam."
Irene listed off a stream of numbers and letters, her triumphant expression feeding Molly's anger. Molly left, leaving the two agents alone to listen to her hurried retreating footsteps.
"Why," he spat, face full of fury.
"Because you're not just fucking her, you're in love with her, and I'll treasure the moment I got to watch your heart break watching her heart break, and somewhere out there Sherlock is regretfully wanking to what could have been. Fuck you, Holmes brothers."
Mycroft left, fairly certainly she was making rude hand gestures at his back. Other agents would already be on the ground in Africa securing the potentially catastrophic hidden cargo, would be preparing Miss Adler's exile. He needed to rinse the taste of the Woman out of his mouth. He had to find Molly.
Flinging open his office door, he was surprised to find Lady Smallwood patting Molly gently on the back,
"As of this moment you are on paid leave, Mr Holmes," she said briskly.