Hi guys! I have to say that some of your reviews had me giggling...you all assume so much about poor Sherlock...perhaps he has his reasons or maybe he is just a cad...only time will tell. If you are familiar with my work, you know that I do adore the drama...

Notes: This is about circa 1930 :) and yes, Jim is good in this, he is Jim Hooper, not Moriarty :) It should be noted as well that Sherlock is NOT a detective in this story, he is a business man.

And as always, HUGE THANKS, HUGS, KISSES, FLUFFY FAT CATS, AND FAT PUPPIES to you all to show my appreciation for your reviews and comments! Thanks SO much to all of you, it means a lot to have so many supporters out there! I do love all of you!

Sherlock was surprised at how much it meant to him that Molly was enjoying herself. She was so taken in by the play that her entire manner had changed. Her body was relaxed and her smile was bright. She didn't even seem to mind how their legs had come into contact a few times.

The Holmes' had their own box within the theater. Though having a private box offered many comforts, it also had its annoyances, as it did at this particular moment. Sherlock despised being interrupted during a performance and he was a bit miffed when he was tapped on the shoulder by a steward. He was handed a note quietly before the steward turned, walking away without a backward glance.

Sherlock's brow rose slightly as he looked down at the letter. He recognized the handwriting instantly. He opened the letter and begin to read whatever it was that his elder brother felt could not wait until the performance was over.

The plan moves tonight…all parties notified. Make whatever arrangements that need to be made…MH

Sherlock frowned. Blast him…he thought to himself. Can't he give me this one night to enjoy with her before I have to make her dislike me even more than she already does?

He couldn't really blame his brother. He knew that Mycroft would not have contacted him had their common enemy not made another move. He sat back in his seat, sliding the note into his pocket. He glanced at Molly from the corner of his eye. She was oblivious to his distress, still completely engaged with the play.

Sherlock sighed deeply and sank further into his seat, trying to block from his mind the heartbreak he was going to cause this sweet, young woman beside him.

The play had ended with a standing ovation. Molly had sprang from her seat and cheered with wild abandon. Sherlock had stood, but his reaction was much more subdued. He took hold of her elbow gently and led her out of the box and down the stairs. He retrieved her wrap from the coat room and placed it over her shoulders.

Her eyes were bright and her cheeks flushed from her enjoyment of the evening. She did not seem to mind when he took her hand in his as he walked her to the car waiting for them. The drive back was a quiet one. Molly sat looking out into the night sky, humming softly while Sherlock sat back in his seat with silent brooding.

Once the car had driven them back to the Hooper Estate, Sherlock was quick getting out of the car to open the door for her. He took her hand, which she offered freely, and helped her from the car. He walked her to the door.

"Thank you for a lovely evening," she said softly. He found his response was trapped in his throat along with a surge of emotion that he could not name. He simply smiled and nodded.

Once inside, her grandfather came to meet them. "Ah Sherlock," he said. "I am so glad that you came inside, there is something that I must speak to you about," he said.

Sherlock nodded. "Yes, there is something that I need to say to you as well, sir."

"Excellent," Nathaniel said. "Then we are in accord, Sherlock. Molly dearest, make sure you stop in and give your grandmother a kiss before you retire to bed."

"Yes grandfather," she said, kissing him on his cheek.

Sherlock took her hand and kissed it gently. "Until next time, Molly," he said, turning from her to follow her grandfather to the study.

Molly watched Sherlock go, noticing the change that had seemed to come over him. She could not help but feel a sense of foreboding from his manner. He seemed to be weighed down by something that was on his mind, but he had been fine when they first reached the theater. Perhaps the change in him had something to do with the letter that he had received. She bit her lip, knowing she shouldn't do what she was about to do, but she was worried that something was wrong and if it involved her grandfather, then she was determined to know what it was.

Nathaniel poured himself and Sherlock a glass of scotch. He handed the younger man his drink and sat down in his favorite armchair. He opened his mouth to speak, but Sherlock beat him to the punch.

"Let's not play games Nathaniel," Sherlock said with a glint in his eyes. "I know that you are close to financial ruin. I am offering you a way out without having to be disgraced."

Nathaniel paled considerably. He swallowed hard and tried to recover himself. "What do you know of my finances Sherlock," Nathaniel bit back. "That information is privy only to myself and my solicitor."

Sherlock laughed. "Surely you are not that naïve," he said, taking another mouthful of scotch. "Your solicitor has been on my pay roll this entire time."

Nathaniel's eyes widened in shock as a flash of hurt moved through them. "Sherlock…did you have anything to do with what has happened?"

Sherlock quirked an eyebrow. "I am sorry, if that makes any difference. I certainly did not mean for you to be affected by this takeover. You were such a dear friend of my father's," he said, sitting the glass down on the stand. "However, I do not see why you should distress yourself so. I will offer you a substantial sum that will take care of all of your debts and keep you and your lovely wife in the lifestyle accustomed to and before you protest with indignation, what choice do you truly have?"

"Why do I feel as if I accept this, I will be making a deal with the devil," Nathaniel asked warily.

Sherlock laughed out loud at this. "I wouldn't say it was quite as bad as all that Nathaniel. I do, however have a price for my generosity," he said, stepping towards the elder man.

"And what would that be?"

"I should think it would be obvious," Sherlock said. "Molly, of course. I will require her hand in marriage if I am to save your family from disgrace."

Nathaniel's face instantly drained of all color. "I will not whore my granddaughter out to the likes of a man like you simply for my own dignity," he snapped. "How dare you sir? Get out of my house at once."

Sherlock favored him with a mocking smile. "You will not be whoring her out. I plan on making an honest woman out of her. I want to marry her. I come from a very good family, our name is well known throughout England. She will be taken care of and protected. She will never want for anything. All she need do is play the part of devoted wife and of course provide me with an heir."

"This is outrageous," Nathaniel roared. "I will not allow her to be used in this way. Get out at once or I will have you thrown out."

"Have a care Nathaniel," Sherlock said in a dangerous voice. "Think about what you are doing. If you refuse me Molly, I will not provide you with the funds you so desperately need. What will happen to your wife? What about your own daughter and her hospital care? Where will you get the money to keep her cared for? You will lose everything Nathaniel…you will be destitute and a broken man. You and wife will starve and die on the streets. And think of Molly, you do not wish to whore her out to me, you say? Well what do you think will happen to her once she is on the street?"

"You are a vile and wicked boy," Nathaniel said, his voice trembling with emotion.

"No, I am a business man and this is a business transaction," Sherlock said. "Nathaniel, I will be good to Molly. No harm will come to her. And you need never worry for money again. I will take care of all of you. Your wife need never leave this home and your daughter will have the best medical care for as long as she lives."

"What does your brother think of your disgusting behavior?" Nathaniel spat.

"Mycroft is the one who pointed out to me what a perfect society wife Molly would make," Sherlock answered. "Were you to contact him, he would not be surprised by what you tell him."

"Your father would be turning over in his grave if he could see what you have become," Nathaniel said, softly.

Sherlock shrugged one shoulder. "Possibly, but he is dead isn't he? He will never know what his son has become," he said coldly.

Nathaniel racked his hand through his silver hair. His shoulders slumped forward from exhaustion. The strain of the situation was evident on his face. He shook his head. "I cannot give you my granddaughter…you must see that it is impossible."

"That is of course your decision," Sherlock said, reaching out to take his coat that had been laid carelessly over a chair. "I will give you twenty four hours to make a final decision. You know where I will be."

"That won't be necessary," A small voice said from the corner of the room.

Nathaniel and Sherlock turned simultaneously to see Molly stepping completely into the room, closing the door behind her.

"Molly, darling," Nathaniel said moving quickly to her. "How much did you hear?"

"All of it," she said. "Why didn't you tell me? I could have helped shoulder the burden."

"Oh child," he said, pulling her into his arms. "I didn't want to worry you."

She hugged him back before pushing him away gently. She turned her attention to Sherlock. Her gaze was hard and unrelenting. It sent a cold shiver down his spine, but he kept his face neutral. She took a step towards him and squared her shoulders.

He could not help but feel such admiration and respect for her courage and strength. "I will accept your terms Mr. Holmes," she said.

"Molly," Nathaniel said, horrified.

"Hush grandfather," Molly admonished gently. "But know this Mr. Holmes; I loathe you with everything within me. You are a truly disgusting man and once you have your heir, you will never touch me again, do you understand?"

Sherlock smirked. "As you wish," he said. "I will have no trouble finding someone more willing to share my bed. Once you have performed your duty as a Holmes breeder," he said, with a sneer. "You will have the option to move into your own bedroom, should you choose to. But you may find that you do not want to. I can assure you that I am most skilled in the manner of love making."

Molly laughed bitterly. "Love making? Do you even know the meaning of the word love, Mr. Holmes? I doubt it just as I doubt that you have ever made love to a woman in your life," she snapped. "Fucking her yes, but let us not pretend that you are anything more than a cad."

If Nathaniel was shocked by Molly's use of such a filthy word, he did not show it. All that could be seen on his face was his sorrow.

"My, my," Sherlock drawled. "You are a little lioness aren't you? I hope that this fiery temperament will follow you into our marriage bed."

Molly's body trembled with her fury, her fists clenching and unclenching. But underneath her fury was a cold fear of this man that she hoped he could not see within her eyes. He stared at her, his green eyes appraising her shrewdly. She saw something that she could not name flash quickly within his eyes, but just as quickly it was gone.

Sherlock took his coat and laid it over his arm. "I shall of course insist that we marry immediately, the sooner that you have my name the better," he said. "And of course, I look forward to having you in my bed."

"Do not be disgusting Sherlock," Nathaniel spat. "I will not have you disrespecting my granddaughter in such a way."

"Forgive me, you are correct. That was most un couth of me to say such a thing," he said mockingly. "I will give my young wife all the respect that she deserves…and much more…"

Molly tried not to shudder at the veiled threat in his words. Sherlock allowed his eyes to sweep over her once more, his gaze lingering over certain parts of her anatomy a little longer than polite society would never allow. When his eyes rose to meet her, there was a meeting of fire and ice. He chuckled softly as he bid them both farewell and left the room.

The moment he was gone, Molly allowed herself to feel the emotions she was desperately trying to hide from Sherlock in order to keep up a brave vibrato for her grandfather's shake. Her hands began to tremble as the rest of her body. She swallowed hard, tears stinging her eyes.

"I will never allow this to happen, Molly," Nathaniel said, pulling her into his arms. "We will think of something…I will find another way. I will never give you to that wretched man."

"There is no other way," Molly whispered. "You heard what he said. We need his money grandfather. What will happen to us without it? We can't allow mother to end up in some horrible sanitarium…it would destroy her and she would be so frightened. And what about grandmother and Janine? Janine has no one else to look after her. And Jim…he can't be burdened with this. He has only just begun to establish himself and if our family were financially ruined, he'd never have a chance." She turned in his arms to look at him. "This is the only way and you know this. I have to do this."

The black car pulled to the curb and the back door was opened. Sherlock climbed in and closed the door as it pulled away.

"Am I to offer congratulations?" Mycroft drawled lazily.

"She stood outside the door and heard the entire conversation," Sherlock said. "As I thought she would. She came inside and accepted my offer for her grandfather."

"Excellent," Mycroft said. "Splendid, then congratulations."

Sherlock frowned. "For what? She bloody hates me," he said softly.

Mycroft sighed. "For now she does because she does not understand," he said. "But once we have destroyed the threat to her grandfather and the others, I do not foresee her still loathing you."

"She will still be angry," Sherlock argued. "How could she not be? She is a very clever girl with an enormous amount of courage and strength, she will be angry that she was kept in the dark and not a partner in this."

"It is vital that she believe you to be the fiend that she thinks you are now," Mycroft insisted. "Charles will have spies everywhere. If this is to be successful, he must believe that you are as treacherous, diabolical, and wicked as he is. Forcing her to marry you would be more proof of this, especially since he believes that you are the reason for her grandfather's financial woos. He will think you caused the collapse of Nathaniel's business so that you would have a reason to have him in your debt. And what better way than to offer him financial absolution in exchange for his granddaughter. Is it diabolical Sherlock and a man like Charles will simply find it divine."

So there you go...hope your interest is still picqued! Hugs and love!