Hey everyone!

So, writing isn't exactly going at the moment. I got a new laptop a couple of weeks ago, and I'm still trying to sort everything out on it. I have been chipping away at things very slowly, and even typing up things from my notebooks.

And... I may have also just dived head first into the Gravity Falls fandom... Yeah, I watched through it all when I was trying to set my laptop up, and long story short, I'm so deep I've started a fic.

But yeah, may be another week or so till I can post either the next chapter of Gaps or Through the Stars. So since I already had this chapter written, I thought I would give you something to read.

Enjoy!

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Matter of Time

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It took a little longer than she had hoped, but still it happened. It was twenty minutes after Molly had finished up the autopsy and put the victim back in the fridge. When she came out, she had been expecting to see everyone in a bit of a panic, but that wasn't the case. She knew the system. She knew that he should have the message by now.

It was while she had been grabbing the coffees for Sherlock and herself that the TV went static and the image of Moriarty appeared. Only this time, it wasn't a static image with the jaw animated to move up and down, it was actually him.

Quickly she dug a pen and notebook out of her pocket, ready to jot down what he said. Around her she saw others grabbing out their cellphones and turn them to the screen. No doubt the message would end up online soon.

"Well, helloo!" he said cheerfully, his grin maniacal. "Sherlock, I really hope you're listening, because I have something to telll yooou," his voice played around with the words, only adding to his insanity. "As you know, I've set up a little scavenger hunt for you and your gang. A little birdy has informed me that you're reluctant to play. Well, I would want to, if I were you. Because I am indeed going to kill a new person for every clue, but if you don't find the next body within twenty-four hours of the last, I'll kill even more people. And who knows how many it will be. Maybe one, maybe ten, all depends on how I'm feeling, I guess. Right, anyway. Now, because I know that she's listening, anxiously waiting to get this all back to her precious Sherlock... Sweet little Molly, I have a message for you too."

Molly's skin turned to ice and she felt the pen slip from her grasp. There was a faint sound of it hitting the floor and she could see people look at her in her peripheral vision. One or two camera's quickly turned to her, then back to the screen. Her vision tunnelled in on it. It seemed so far away, yet it was the only thing in focus.

"It was so sweet of you to try and talk to me. 'Back off. Touch him again and you will have a horrible death.' Ooh! Sends shivers down my spine. There's the girl I like. But I'm afraid I can't do that, my dear. See, Sherlock is just in my way. Oh, don't worry about you're little shop friend, she's fine. I'm trying not to upset you here. I even sent you a little gift. Are you having fun?" He let out a little chuckle. His eyes flickered off screen and he stared at something just off to the side of the camera. A strange smile crept up his face. "You look lovely with your hair done up in that French braid... bun thing. The side parting suits you. Ooh! Careful now, don't crush those notes too hard. Sherlock needs those, sweetheart." He looked back at the screen, his eyes malicious, filled with a sick joy. "It's only a matter of time, Molly. I'll see you again. After all, our destinies are entwined... Ciao!"

The screen went back to static again, then back to whatever had been on when Moriarty had popped up. Other than the TV, the room was horribly quiet. Almost everyone was looking at her warily, a few were looking out the window or around the room as if they would magically see him watching them.

"Molly..." Some one tried to say.

She didn't listen. With her notebook clutched tightly in her hand, she ran. She didn't stop until she reached the safety of the lab. And even then, she found herself looking about in caution. He had been watching her. He had been-

"Molly?" Sherlock's concerned tone reached her through her slight haze of panic. "What's wrong?"

"Moriarty," she blurted out. "He's sent another message. I – I wrote it down." She held out the crumpled book to him and watched as he took it and scanned over it's contents.

"What else?"

"Sorry?"

"This can't be all," he said. "This book is all but ruined, I can only assume from you grasping it too tightly. A nervous habit of yours. Also, you are shaking. I know you, and this is not enough to scare you, Molly Hooper. Tell me what else he said."

"He didn't say anything else."

"Then why are you shaking?" he said defiantly.

"I'm fine, Sherlock."

"Molly-" He was interrupted by a short knock at the door and one of the nurses, Ally, stepped in.

"Hey, sorry. Um... I brought your coffees. You forgot them. Are you alright, Molly?" She nodded as Ally placed the drinks on the desk, a look of worry on her face. "Bloody hell, you're tougher than me, then. Someone's called in the cops, but I knew himself was in here, so I brought this." She held out her phone and Molly felt her stomach drop. "It's the full recording, just in case you didn't see. I mean, I know you were writing it down, Molly, but you dropped your pen halfway through, so..."

"It's okay, Ally. I got it all-"

Before she could even finish, Sherlock snatched the phone from the woman's hands. "Thank you, Ally. I was hoping someone had one of these. So, why are the cops being called in, is it just the message or for something else."

"Oh, for the security. To see if that horrid man had cameras set up, or had tapped into the security cams. It's got the staff half scared to death. Not our Molly, though, eh?"

"Nope! And I wouldn't expect anything less. She's always brave, no matter what." He gave a grin that seemed both honest, and yet horribly fake. She glared at him, knowing that he was playing her.

"Brave is one word for it," Ally went on, oblivious to what the man was doing. "If Moriarty threatened me, I would run right to the safest place in the universe." She looked between Sherlock's open face and Molly shaking her head, trying to get her to shut up. A look of realisation came across her face and she paused. "Um... yeah, so... I'm just going to..." And without another word, she left the room.

Sherlock rounded on her immediately. "Threatened?!" Molly tuned away and went to work on the samples. He watched her in disbelief. "He threatened you? Why didn't you tell me."

"Because it's not a big deal," she told him.

"Clearly it is. You run into the lab, wide eyed and shaking and you ask me to believe it's not a big deal?!"

"It's nothing, so just drop it, okay?"

"A threat from anyone is dangerous, Molly. And from someone like Jim Moriarty... I once pushed a man out of my window repetitively for hitting Mrs Hudson. A few weeks ago, I shot a man simply because he was a dangerous man with leverage over John and Mary. So-"

"So, what? Anyone who makes a small threat against me has it coming? I can take care of myself! It wasn't even that bad of a threat!"

"I'll be the judge of that, because from what your friend said he was watching you. I can't have any of the people I care about in danger again. I just can't."

At his words, Molly stopped and looked at him. She hadn't expected to hear that. That she was a person he cared for. She knew she probably was, considering the way he treated her, but to hear him say it. It gave her a moment to stop and calm down.

"Fine," she said quietly. "Watch it. But like I said, it's nothing I can't handle. He's just bluffing..." She went and buried her head into their work. And Sherlock began to play the video, taking a sip of one of the coffees. Ugh! Too sweet.

"Here, this one's yours." He held it out to her and picked up the other one to take a sip.

"Thanks," she muttered. She took it from him and took a sip. She could practically taste his lips on the rim... Not that she actually knew what his lips tasted like. But there was something on here that clearly wasn't coffee. She found herself savouring the taste, and when she caught herself doing so, a blush spread across her cheeks.

Thankfully, Sherlock hadn't noticed. He had been too busy watching through the message to him. Molly hadn't missed a thing. Well, not anything important. She'd left out all his useless blabber and taunting. Actually, come to think about it, he was surprised that word had reached him so fast. Then again, he had apparently been watching them, so there was every chance that he had seen them talking. Possibly was listening in too.

That part of the video was all well and good. He expected all that from Moriarty. The lives of others was of no matter to the insane man. No, it was when he stared talking directly to Molly that he found his fists starting to clench. Anger flared through him as he called her 'sweet little Molly' and proceed to tell her that he had a message for her too.

The camera quickly flashed around to land on Molly standing in the cafeteria, notebook in hand, but not her pen. And even though the camera quality was terrible, and Ally's hand was unsteady, he could still see the utter terror she was trying to hold back.

His brain worked through the information at full speed, occasionally interrupted by the image of Molly's terrified face. He thought back to what Moriarty had said. At first he thought he just meant he had a message for her as well as for him, but he was proven wrong in the next sentence. He said that Molly had somehow tried to contact him, then said her words mockingly back at her. How would she be able to contact him? How did she even have the courage to say such things to such a dangerous man... and for him.

He felt that strange feeling build up in his chest again, and noted that his hands were shaking. Taking a deep breath, he cleared his mind and forced himself to focus on the video. Molly's safety could be in danger. At the thought, he nearly growled out loud and his mind fixed resolutely on the task at hand. He listened curiously and attentively to the words Moriarty said, the way he said them. The small things he did to scare her. He tried to keep his growing rage at bay, but even so, his blood boiled as the monster started to threaten her directly. He talked about what she was doing at that very second, not even a moments hesitation. He watched till the very end, the video stopping on the sight of Molly bolting off, her legs taking her as fast as they would carry her. And he knew exactly to where.

He thought these things over in his mind for a few seconds until he reached a few conclusions. He didn't have all the details, but even so, he was hesitant to reach some of them... considering what it could possibly mean. But from what he surmised, Molly had found a way to contact a friend in order to get a message to the vial bastard. He had basically scoffed at her message, then threatened her and those she cared for. Even saying that he hadn't hurt her friend was a veiled threat that he could still do it. He had been watching her from a monitor just out of the shot, since there was no light from a window to indicate he was watching from a nearby building. This means that he either had access to the hospitals security feed or had his own cameras installed through out the hospital – the more likely option. Moriarty was charismatic, he could get anyone to do something for him.

Lastly, there was one thing he was stuck on. The subtle emphasis that he had placed of the word 'entwined. 'Our destinies are entwined'. Out of all the words, he wanted that one to stick out. It didn't fit in with the rest of the sentence, at least, not in the way most would say it. Did the word mean something in particular? It was likely that what ever it was, he was using that word to try and freak her out. That's what the entire part of the video was. Scaring Molly.

Still he wondered.

"How did you get that message through to him so quickly?"

"What?" Molly looked up from her microscope.

"You sent a message out to Moriarty and it reaching him in under half an hour. How did you do that?"

"Well, you have your network, I have mine. You just have to know the right people."

Sherlock scoffed. "You have a network?"

"Of sorts. It's not like yours. It's not a whole bunch of people doing things for one person. It's more like... there's lots of us that know each other and if one of us has a request, we just say. And then word spreads... pretty quickly. And if someone can help, they will. I actually met Jim through that group of people. Everyone sort of knowing someone."

"And how trust worthy is it?"

"Not one hundred percent, but it works." He made a noise of contempt and she swivelled her chair around to face him. "For example, I know that the last time you took drugs – outside the privacy of your house at least – was when we tested you. Of course, you can't have taken them at home, because Anderson swept your house and didn't find a stash. You once sent one of your homeless network out to get some for you, but they came back with the money looking rather freaked out. And you went to approach a dealer about three weeks ago, but you stopped and walked away. Sound about right?"

He looked at her, his brow furrowed. "How did you-"

"Connections," she replied simply, before tuning back to her microscope.

"Hmm, impressive," she said under his breath. Idly he wondered what types for connections Molly would have to be able to know all those sorts of things. What connections would be able to get a message to a psychotic criminal mastermind that not even he could find.

"Is that all you managed to deduce from the video, Mr Holmes. I'm disappointed," she teased, without looking up.

"I am trying to sort it out in my head."

"And it's taking you this long?" She glanced up in time to see his slightly annoyed expression before it faded away.

"Let me rephrase. I already have all I need except for a few things for which I need to ask you questions. More importantly, I'm trying to think of how to say this without upsetting you for one reason or another."

Her head snapped back to him, she was shocked, but that feeling was taken over by a warmth that spread through her. She took a deep breath. "Go ahead. I'm sure I've had worse."

He eyed her warily. "Alright, so from what he said, we can assume the note we found with the body was to you, not to me. Of course, it could be for us both, but that comment was directed right at you. It could mean that he wants you to actively help on the case, more likely that he took your profession into account and thought it would be nice to send you a body."

"He probably did. To be honest, death fascinates me. He asked me why I work with dead people and I told him that."

"Bit of a twisted gift, don't you think?"

"Mmm," she frowned.

"And there's the other thing. There's a word he says. It's almost like he intends it to mean something else. Like it has a special meaning. He wants you to notice the word. Do you know what me meant by your destinies being 'entwined'?"

He watched carefully as her body tensed up, her breath stopping a second as it caught in her throat. Her eyes flicked nervously to the side and her hands gripped at the fabric of her clothing. She knew the word. It meant something to her, and his use of it unsettled her.

"I don't know," she said. "Um, not really. He's just trying to freak me out, right?"

"So the word 'entwined' means nothing to you?"

"Nope."

"I see."

She went back to her microscope, as if not wanting to talk about it anymore. He studied her from where he stood. From her earlier reaction to the word, she was clearly lying. But he was slightly impressed about the lie itself. Whilst the nervous gestures had given away that she knew what the word was, there was nothing to indicate that she was lying. The lie itself held no tells. He had dealt with some of the best liars, and in that moment, Molly Hooper outshone them all. Not one tell. If he hadn't been watching very closely for her reaction before, he would never have known she was lying. And he realised that it wasn't just now. He had seen her after he had faked his death. She had been astounding. Molly was, in fact, and utterly incredible liar. How he had never noticed it about her before, he wasn't sure. Perhaps it was because he wasn't expecting it from her. Like he always did, he had underestimated her and believed he had her completely figured out.

The word meant something to her, but she didn't want him to know what. She also hadn't wanted him to know that she had been threatened. Why? It wasn't logical to keep that from him, especially when he could help her.

And he had to protect her from this. She had done so much for him. He couldn't lose Molly. Not ever.

That feeling in his chest returned. It was similar to the feeling he related to one he felt at times around John. It was slightly different, though, a little more intense. It carried odd urges with it. This time the feeling kept spreading, kept getting stronger. It spread through every fibre of his being and he could feel it in the very tips of his fingers. Every part of him felt like it was alive with electricity. It was more intense than the rush he got from any case or drug he'd done before.

He drew in a deep breath as it overwhelmed him. The room began to spin and he felt himself fall forwards slightly. He caught onto the table and stood there, trying not to let it consume him completely. He didn't noticed the door of the lab open up, nor who had walked in. All he knew was that the words was spinning around him, and he felt as if he were about to burst with the most incredible and beautiful feeling.

"Sherlock, are you okay?"

He looked up to see a blurry John with a heavily pregnant Mary standing next to him. From his peripheral vision, he could just see Molly swing around in concern and rush over.

"I'm fine," he replied, attempting to straighten up, but swayed a little on the spot.

"Are you sure?" John asked, grabbing him by the shoulder to help steady him.

"Yes, yes, I'm alright. Just a little dizzy. It's nothing, it will pass."

"When was the last time you ate?" Sherlock shrugged. "Right, you're eating something. I'll not have you passing out on us again because you think a case is more important than eating!"

"John, you know that digestion slows down-"

"Yeah, well so does fainting. Now, are we going out for food, or do you want me to bring it here?"

"Here," he relented.

"Hey, Molls," Mary said, trying to get the conversion on a normal path.

"Hello, Mary, John. What are you guys doing here?"

"Lestrade said there'd been another video, this one threatening you," John replied. "We came to see if you were okay."

"Yeah, it's okay. I'm good," she said, forcing a rather weak smile on her face.

"Bloody hell, look at these two," Mary cried. "Both saying you're fine when you're clearly not. You're made for each other." Both of them looked at the woman sharply, then Molly looked away, a blush spreading across her cheeks.

"Mary, she just got out her an engagement, try and be more sensitive," Sherlock snapped.

John covered his mouth with his hand to hide his snigger. Mary just rolled her eyes. From the look she shot at Molly, he had the feeling she already knew all about the break up. Molly and Mary and seemed to have become quite close friends.

"Right, so, erm... is anyone going to tell us what's going on?" John asked, still trying not to laugh at the scene before him. (Sherlock really didn't understand what was supposed to be so funny).

"Once again, Watsons, the game is on!"