Hi ladies...I'm back again with another chapter. I want to say thanks to all of you for reading this! Thanks for your lovely reviews and follows!

I hope the Easter Bunny left each and everyone of you your own chocolate Benny Cumberbunny :)

Warnings; None really...violence that doesn't get to happen :)

The car ride to the Holmes estate was silent and tense. Sherlock could see that Molly was trying not to show any emotion. She sat as far away from him as she could in the car, her legs clamped tight, and her arms wrapped around her. He longed to reach out and take her hand, to let her know that she had nothing to be afraid of, but he couldn't without making her suspicious.

The car pulled up to the gate and the guard opened the it, allowing the car to pull forward. The car moved slowly down the long drive way that led to the house. The car pulled to a stop and Sherlock got out quickly, moving to the other side to open the door for Molly. He held his hand out to her, but she did not take it. He could see the emotions dance across her face as she struggled to remain indifferent to him.

Sherlock made the decision for her, taking hold of her arm, he pulled her gently from the car escorting her into her new home. Once inside, Molly and Sherlock were met by a kindly looking older woman and a very pristine looking man.

"This is Mrs. Hudson, Molly," Sherlock said. "She is my housekeeper and this is Leonard, my valet, butler, and anything and everything else that I might need him for. He wears many different hats as you will come to see."

Molly favored Mrs. Hudson and Leonard with a small, polite smile.

"Oh," Mrs. Hudson exclaimed. "What a lovely girl your wife is, Sherlock."

Molly blinked and looked at the elderly woman with a strange expression. She had never heard anyone in service refer to their employer by their first name before.

"Mrs. Hudson, would you be so good as to prepare a light supper for Molly and bring it up to her room?" he asked. "I am sure that she is very tired from today's festivities. I will show her to her room while you do this."

"She will not be sharing your room?" Mrs. Hudson asked.

Molly's face turned crimson and she looked down, trying to keep her tears at bay. Sherlock, seeing her distress answered quickly. "The circumstances of our marriage are rather difficult, Mrs. Hudson," he said. "My wife needs time to get to know me better and get more comfortable with her new home. I am sure that you understand."

Mrs. Hudson looked at Molly with a kindly expression. "Of course I do, dear. Which room will be Mrs. Holmes'?"

"The Dogwood room," he said, taking hold of Molly's arm gently and pulling her towards the stairs. They climbed the stairs in silence and walked down the hall. "This is my bedroom, Molly," he said gesturing to the door on the left. "And this one will be yours for as long as you need," he added, gesturing to the door on the right. "Mrs. Hudson's room is downstairs, but should you ever need her, all you need do is pull the bell."

He opened the door for her and she walked in ahead of him. He came in behind her, leaving the door open.

"It's a beautiful room," she said softly.

"It was my mother's," he said just as soft. "She would be happy that you find it so."

She turned and regarded him with an unreadable expression. "I should like to visit my grandfather tomorrow."

"I am afraid that is out of the question," he said. "We are supposed to be on our honeymoon. How would it look if my wife were to run back home to her grandparents one day after her marriage to me?"

The tears welled in her eyes and spilled over her cheeks. She turned away quickly. "Please go away, I'm very tired."

She did not see him take a step towards her with an outstretched hand. He longed to offer her some kind of comfort. He wanted to hold her. He would have given anything to be able to give her even one word of comfort, to let her know somehow that this was not what she thought it was. That soon, this would all be over and everything would be alright again. He sighed deeply as he hand fell to his side.

"Be at peace, Molly," Sherlock said. "I won't come to you tonight. Rest well."

Jim poured himself a scotch and turned to look at the men in front of him. He had received a message from Sherlock to come to the Holmes estate as soon as possible. Jim had thought it odd since Sherlock had just married Molly and should be getting ready for their honeymoon.

He arrived around eleven pm and was shown into the study. He was met by his grandfather, Sherlock, Dr. John Watson, and Henry Knight. He listened attentively as Sherlock regaled an incredible story to him about a man named Sir Charles Magnusseen.

"So, this Charles thinks that we lost our money in a hostile takeover?" Jim asked, trying to understand.

"Yes," Sherlock said. "Mycroft had it look as if I had swindled your grandfather out of his family money and his business. Nathaniel's money has been hidden in one of my brother's foreign bank accounts."

Jim nodded. "And the money we have now is supposedly money that you have given us for the price of my sister, is that correct?"

Sherlock winced at how Jim had put it. Jim noticed his discomfort and looked at Sherlock with a hard expression. "Well how else was I supposed to word it, Sherlock? You've essentially bought my baby sister," he snapped before turning to look at Nathaniel. "I don't like that you've involved Molly in this, grandfather," Jim said.

Jim looked back at Sherlock. "And it's no offense to you, Sherlock. I would love for my sister to be your wife, but not under these circumstances. Not when she fears what's going to happen to her." Jim looked at Henry. "And I don't like my cousin being frightened to death either," he said.

"I would never harm Janine," Henry said quickly.

"I know that, Henry," Jim said. "You're a good man and she would do well to marry a man like you. But as it stands, you are pretending to be one of the vilest men that I have ever come in contact with and Janine is horrified by you."

"There was no other way," Sherlock said. "Charles would never allow us into his circle if he did not believe that we were just like him. Jim, Henry and I aren't going to hurt Molly or Janine and we won't let anyone else hurt them."

"But you are hurting them," Jim argued. "My God, my sister is already so against marriage and being forced to lose her identity to her husband…this is only going to confirm her fears." Jim turned to Nathanial. "Surely you see this, grandfather."

"Molly is a strong girl," Nathanial said. "She will survive this and she will be fine, my boy, try not to worry so for her. And Janine, she is a silly, sweet, little thing, but when pushed, she has shown admirable strength of character also."

Jim nodded, but his expressions showed that he did not like this situation in the least. "What about Molly's dreams of becoming a doctor? I suppose you plan on putting an end to that during this charade?"

Sherlock turned to John. "What will happen if I force her to leave University?"

John sighed. "It will be difficult to get her readmitted. And it is possible that she might have to repeat a few courses. The odds are already staked against her becoming a doctor because she is a woman and people are just waiting for her to fail," he said grimly. "But it should not be impossible to get her back in, difficult, but not impossible."

"She's going to hate you even more if you do this, Sherlock," Jim warned.

"I know," Sherlock said quietly. "I only hope that in the end, she will understand and forgive me."

Jim shook his head. "I don't understand any of this," he said raking his hand through his dark hair. "Why do you even need Molly and Janine in this? You told me that Mycroft is working on making a case against this Charles, in order to prove that he is guilty of black mail and fraud, is that correct?"

"Yes," Nathanial said. "Sherlock, Mycroft, and Henry have infiltrated his circle of friends. This is bigger than you could imagine Jim. Charles has other men of important positions in this disgusting thing with him. We all must tread carefully if we are to bring him down."

"But that does not explain why Molly and Janine have to be a part of this," Jim said.

"My brother has heard whispers of Sir Charles owning certain types of houses throughout England and Europe. Women have been allegedly taken against their wills, given drugs, and forced into prostitution," Sherlock said. "His is a wicked, disgusting man who hates and abuses women. Molly and Janine were necessary for Henry and I to prove that we hold the same ideas of women as he does."

Jim sighed. "How close are you to bringing this fiend down?"

"We are close, Jim, very close," Sherlock said. "But Mycroft does not yet have all he needs to bring a case against him."

"Is there anything that I can do to help?" Jim asked.

"I suppose you could come into this deception with us," Sherlock said. "It would prove most delightful to Charles if he were to think Nathaniel's' own grandson knew of the takeover and was for it."

"Alright," Jim said. "I guess I can do that."

Henry looked at him intently. "Do you have a woman?"

Jim frowned. "Do I need one?"

"It might prove helpful," Henry suggested. "To be more convincing."

A slow grin spread across Jim's face. "Actually, I know of a woman who could be trusted to be brought into this. She is as competent and capable of any business man that I know. And she is not easily upset. I am sure that she would have no issues playing the part of an abused and bullied woman if it meant bringing down a tyrant," Jim said. "And I am sure that my sister would find comfort in having her here."

Nathaniel smiled knowingly. "You are speaking of Ms. Irene Adler, are you not?"

Jim smiled and finished off his scotch. "Indeed I am, grandfather."

Molly sat quietly at the dining room table across from Sherlock, who currently had his nose in the newspaper. Mrs. Hudson came into the room bringing breakfast on silver trays. Leonard followed behind her with coffee and tea.

Mrs. Hudson went about setting out the food which consisted of bacon, eggs, sausages, toast, and jam. She prepared a plate for Molly, sitting in front of her. "Here you are dear," she said. "Try to eat all of it. You're much too thin."

"Thank you," Molly said softly.

Mrs. Hudson sat a plate in front of Sherlock and snatched the newspaper away from him. "Sherlock, it's very rude to read the paper at the breakfast table, dear."

Sherlock scowled at her, but said nothing. "Coffee or tea, dear?" Mrs. Hudson asked Molly.

"Coffee is fine," Molly said and Mrs. Hudson poured her a cup.

Sherlock glanced at Molly and shifted in his seat nervously. He did not look forward to bringing this up with her. "Molly," he said. "There is something in which I must discuss with you."

"Yes, what is it?" she asked with a tinge of anxiety within her voice.

"I have had you withdrawn from University," he said. "You will not be going back at the end of summer."

"But you can't!" Molly shouted, standing from the table. "I have worked so hard and only have two more years!"

Sherlock regarded her with a bored expression. "You are my wife, Molly, and more importantly, a Holmes wife," he said. "And as such you will have duties to attend to as a Holmes wife. Besides, it would be a complete waste of time for you to finish school when you will never be a doctor, nor will you ever hold a job. A woman's place is in the home."

Molly felt as if she might faint. She had worked so hard, overcome so many things to get as far as she had gotten. And now, on the word of this man, her dream, her life was over. Angry tears stung her eyes as he stared at her with an impassive face.

"Spare me a temper tantrum, Molly," he said lazily. "I know it is in a woman's nature to act so childishly, but I can assure you that it won't work on me. You will never set your foot in the University again. I suggest you come to grips with it and accept it."

"I hate you," she whispered.

He smiled. "I am sure that you do," he said. "Molly, this doesn't have to be an unpleasant arrangement. I will take care of you; give you anything that you could ever want. I am not trying to suffocate you. You can do anything that you wish, except work. If you want to volunteer with Dr. Watson then…"

She wiped at her eyes and interrupted him. "You would allow that," she asked, still trembling with anger.

"If it would amuse you, by all means," he said. "He's always been a bit of a bleeding heart. He takes his Hippocratic Oath quite seriously. He goes to the most repulsive places, but I trust that he can oversee you safely."

She stared at him, trying not to choke on her anger as her mind replayed his words repeatedly. He had just destroyed her one and only dream at being happy and fulfilled, but he did not refuse her a chance to still work within the medical field. It made no sense to her. Was he trying to be cruel or was he only a man of the times? And if he were trying to be cruel, then why would he allow her this outlet. She remembered last night at their wedding, how awfully he spoke to her and his barely veiled threats. But now, it seemed as if she were talking almost to a different man "Why would you allow this," she asked.

"Because we are married, Molly, till death do us part," he answered her. "And I know that you hate me, but that does not mean that I do not want peace in my house. If I can give you this after all that I have taken from you, then I am more than willing to do so."

"Does John Watson know what a horrible man you are?" Molly asked.

"John sees what he chooses to see," he replied coolly. "And he will be stopping by today should you wish to discuss offering him your assistance. I know he would be grateful for your help. Besides teaching and having his own practice, he goes into some of the worst parts of London and offers medical care to those less fortunate."

Molly blinked and stared at Sherlock. She could have sworn that she had heard pride and admiration in his voice for John, but that would go against everything that she had seen of Sherlock up to this point. Her mind quickly replayed that horrible meeting with Charles Magnusseen on her wedding day. She was almost certain that she had seen anger in Sherlock's eyes as well as Henry Knight's. But how could that be when both of them claimed to hold the same values as Charles.

"Something on your mind, Molly?" he drawled, smirking at her.

"I find you…confusing at times…" she said slowly as she sat back down at the table.

The smirk fell from his face and he seemed to stiffen as his eyes became aloof. "How so?" he asked.

"You seem to contradict yourself at times," she said softly.

Sherlock sat straighter in his chair and looked at her with the full force of his green eyes. Molly swallowed hard and looked away, flushing. He opened his mouth to speak, but was interrupted by his brother coming into the dining room.

"Sherlock," Mycroft said in greeting. "Mrs. Holmes," he added, nodding to Molly in greeting. His face became serious. "Sir Charles will be here in a few moments, Sherlock, perhaps you would like to send your wife elsewhere?"

Sherlock stood quickly and glanced at Molly. "Yes, I think I would like to spare her such unpleasantness," he said. "Molly, would you mind waiting in the library for John? I will send him in when he arrives."

She looked back and forth between Sherlock and Mycroft with a confused expression. Why should they wish to spare her the company of that wretched man, Charles?

"Go to the library," Sherlock repeated more firmly. This time she obeyed him and left without a backward glance.

"She suspects," Mycroft said when she was gone.

Sherlock shook his head. "No she doesn't," he said. "She thinks I'm a monster."

"And I am telling you that she suspects," Mycroft argued. "She is a clever girl, much more so than I gave her credit for."

Sherlock's gaze hardened. "I treat her badly enough," he snapped. "I'm not going to treat her worse."

"I am not suggesting that you do," Mycroft said. "But should she figure out that you are in fact, a good man, you had better make sure that she can be trusted or all that we have worked for will be for nothing."

"I trust her," Sherlock said defensively. "She is a good and kind woman. She loves and cares very deeply. Why else do you think she would put herself into a situation like this, if she did not? She's doing this for her family and to me…that shows a great deal of courage and fortitude."

Mycroft's brow rose. "Then perhaps I was mistaken is suggesting that you keep her in the dark," he said. "Perhaps she would be more useful as an active ally."

Sherlock shook his head. "I want to keep her safe," he said. "I don't want her in harm's way by allowing her to become involved in this."

"Perhaps you should offer her the choice," Mycroft said.

Sherlock's lips quirked. "You would allow your woman the choice?"

"Of course not," Mycroft said. "I would do what is necessary to protect her and she would be expected to accept that. But you, brother, are not me. You are more modern in your thought processes than I am. If you trust this woman, than by all means, bring her in. I am sure that you will be able to protect her from any harm and if you are in doubt, always know that I will offer whatever assistance that I can in keeping the ones you care for safe."

"I wouldn't say that I cared for her," Sherlock said suddenly feeling self-conscious. "I barely know her."

"And yet you wanted to marry her," Mycroft said. "If you recall, that was your suggestion, little brother, not mine."

The door to the dining room opened and Sherlock's butler entered holding a silver tray with an announcement card. "Sir, a Sir Charles Magnusseen to see you."

""Show him in, Leonard," Sherlock said.

Molly made her way down the upstairs hallway to Sherlock's bedroom. She looked around to make sure none of the servants were anywhere to be seen and opened the door, going inside. She shut the door behind her and quickly surveyed the room, noticing immediately the other door that was on the other side of the room. She went to it and tried to open it. It was locked.

"Blast…"she swore under her breath. Reaching up, she took a pin from her hair and straightened it, putting it in the key hole. She worked and worked the lock until it clicked, opening the door for her. She walked in quickly and shut the door behind her. She smiled when she realized that the room was Sherlock's private study. Surely she could find something in here that would tell her what was truly going on.

She began to search through the papers on his desk. Finding nothing that she could make sense of, she moved her search to his desk drawers. She had searched through five of the six drawers and found nothing. She sighed, raking her hand through her hair in frustration.

"There has to be something here," she whispered to herself.

She opened the largest and final drawer. She began to search through the papers and the files, trying to find anything that would help her make sense of her suspicions. She pulled the drawer further out and noticed a small lock box in the back of the drawer. She quickly pulled it out and looked at it. She tried to open it, but of course it was locked.

"Blast…" she swore again and began to frantically look for the hair pin that she had used to enter his study. She found it lying on the floor nearby. She worked the pin into the lock and was able to open the small box. She started to look through the private letters and business papers, finding one envelope in particular of interest.

She recognized her grandfather's hand writing and opened the letter. She had read only a few lines, when she gasped in shock. She sat the letter down and searched through more papers, finding one in particular and began reading it.

"What is this?" she whispered. "What does it all mean?"

She sat the paper down and started to reach for her grandfather's letter again when she heard a noise from the other room. She froze and stared at the door, horrified when she heard male voices coming from the bedroom. She quickly shoved the papers back in the box, put the lockbox back and put the other papers back on top of it, closing the drawer. She had barely made it around the desk to stand in front of it when the door was opened.

Sherlock blinked, clearly stunned to see her while Mycroft seemed to have an expression of mild appreciation on his face. Charles stood behind the both of them with smirk on his face. "Well, well, Sherlock," Charles drawled. "It appears your little wife is even naughtier than we all thought. She's broken into your private study and I would make a wager, has just searched through your important papers."

Sherlock looked like a deer caught in headlights and Molly realized that he was trying to formulate how he would react to this situation for Charles' benefit. She did not know why Sherlock could be doing this, but she felt deep down inside of her that it was pivotal that he react in a way that would please Charles.

Mycroft's expression became troubled as well, as if this was truly a horrible situation that Molly had gotten both herself and Sherlock into.

"Molly…" Sherlock began, but Charles cut him off, pushing passed him.

"Allow me, Sherlock," Charles said, looking back at Sherlock. "I think you are lacking experience in the appropriate ways of truly disciplining your wife. If you had whipped her hard enough and long enough before fucking her on your wedding night, I do not think she would dare attempt something as bold as this."

Charles approached Molly. "So little bitch, why are you in your husband's personal study?"

She glanced at Sherlock, trying to read his expression to gage what she should or should not say. It was Mycroft, whose eyes seemed to plead with her.

Molly lifted her chin. "I don't see why I should need to answer to you," she said coldly.

Charles's eyes twinkled in delight. "Indeed?" he asked. He turned to Sherlock. "Bold little bitch, isn't she?" He looked back at Molly. "I asked you a question, you little worthless idiot, why were you in your husband's private study? I doubt you would be intelligent enough to understand anything that you might find in here. Women are such ignorant and stupid creatures, do you not agree Mycroft?"

"Most useless," Mycroft said.

"I wouldn't say useless," Charles went on to say. "They are good for fucking, but that is about the only thing. Oh and keeping up the home for the husband. In fact, I find them to be on the same level of children, only to be seen and not heard. The only time a bitch should ever open her mouth to have a cock inserted for her to suck and swallow."

Molly glanced at Sherlock and Mycroft, both of whom seemed to be pleading with her to remain silent. Her fists clenched tightly.

"Get out, Molly," Sherlock snapped. "I will deal with you later."

She started to walk passed Charles, but he grabbed her by her hair, his fingers digging harshly into her scalp. "I had hoped you would punish her now," he said. "Humiliation is a good way to break the will of your whore, Sherlock."

Charles pulled her close and inhaled her hair. "She smells mouthwatering," he said slowly dragging his tongue up and down her cheek."

"You are disgusting and vile," Molly hissed. "Let go of me!" She screamed, reaching up to his face and scratching his cheek.

He yelped and shoved her away so violently that she hit the desk before hitting the floor. "You fucking cunt…" he shouted. "You vile little piece of filth! Worm! Cunt! Bitch!"

Sherlock moved to Molly quickly and grabbed her arm in a vice grip. He jerked her up from the floor and started towards the door with her.

"I demand satisfaction, Sherlock," Charles said wiping the blood from his cheek. "You invite me into your home and allow this little cunt to draw blood? Are you not the man that I thought you were? Are you a weak and spineless coward who allows his wife to run his household?"

"Of course not," Sherlock snapped. "I will punish her accordingly this evening."

"I want her punished now, damn you," Charles hissed. "And I want to be the one who gives it to her."

"No!" Sherlock shouted, but Mycroft grabbed his arm and silenced him.

"You will forgive my brother, I am sure," Mycroft said. "He is very possessive of his things and would never allow someone else to punish what belongs to him. It would be an insult to him, as if you were saying he was incapable. I am sure that you understand."

Charles seemed to be appeased by this and he nodded. "Of course," he said. "I have other friends who are of the same mindset as Sherlock. They never allow anyone else to whip their whores."

Sherlock turned and began to drag Molly out. Charles too k a step and halted them. "But that does not mean that I do not have the right to witness her punishment," he said. "She insulted me in your home, Sherlock. The little rat insulted me."

"What would satisfy your honor, Sir Charles?" Sherlock asked.

"A crop," Charles said smiling. "To her back, ass, and thighs."

Sherlock swallowed hard and looked at Mycroft. Only Mycroft knew his brother well enough to see the distress within his eyes. "Shall I retrieve your crop, Sherlock?" Mycroft asked softly.

"Yes," Sherlock said in a hard voice.

Mycroft left the room and came back within moments holding a crop. He held it out to Sherlock. "I can't…" Sherlock whispered in desperation.

"You must," Mycroft answered him in a whisper.

Sherlock took the crop and pulled Molly over to his desk. He gripped her arms and stared at her. Tears stung her eyes, but her face was just as determined. Though she was terrified, she was now more convinced than ever that Charles must have some sort of hold over Sherlock and Mycroft or something else was going on in regards to this man.

She could see the distress that Sherlock was in, but she could also see in Mycroft's face just how vital it was that Sherlock convince Charles that he was as horrible as he was.

Molly gave Sherlock a small nod, one that was only noticeable to him. Sherlock shoved her roughly over his desk and moved to stand behind her.

"Not so bold now, is she, eh, Sherlock?" Charles asked with a gleeful tone.

Sherlock swallowed hard and put his mind on the reason for all of this. He thought only of the damage and anguish that this man had caused to countless others and how he must, at all costs be stopped. Sherlock raised the crop and was about to bring it down upon Molly's thigh when the door was pushed open and in walked Sherlock's stoic butler.

Leonard's eyes instantly fell on Molly about to be whipped and the only change in his expression was a single brow rose in question. "I beg pardon sir," he said ignoring the glare from Charles. "But Dr. John Watson has arrived and he is most insistent to see you."

"Sherlock is obviously busy," Charles snapped.

"I am aware, sir," Leonard answered. "But he is most insistent. He seems quite distressed about something sir. If you are not able to see him at the moment, perhaps madam…" his voice trailed off.

Sherlock stared at his butler and swallowed hard. He knew that John Watson was probably not in the least bit distressed. He silently thanked his butler over and over in his mind for the interruption. Sherlock dropped the crop and grabbed Molly's arm, jerking her into a standing position. "Go with him and entertain John," he snapped. "But do not think for one moment your behavior will be forgotten. You will receive ten times more tonight than what you would have received now."

Sherlock shoved Molly roughly at his butler. Leonard gently took her arm. "If you will please come this way, my lady."

Sherlock and Mycroft watched Molly leave with his butler.

Charles sighed his annoyance. "Pity," he said. "I so wanted to witness that ass being striped with welts. Ah well, I suppose that we had better discuss what I came to discuss then."

Molly trembled as she walked and Leonard kept a steadying hand on her. She glanced up at him as they walked. "Dr. Watson…is he really distressed?" she asked softly.

"I have no idea, madam," Leonard replied. "Dr. Watson has not called as of yet."

"What?" she asked incredulous. "Then why…"

Molly was interrupted as Mrs. Hudson came rushing forward from the kitchen. "Oh Lord…" she cried. "Please, child, tell me that we were in time to stop that atrocity from happening to you." She pulled the shaking Molly into her arms.

"What?" Molly asked breathlessly. "I…I don't understand?"

"Mr. Mycroft, madam," Leonard said. "He informed Mrs. Hudson of what his younger brother was about to be forced to do and asked if anything could be done to intervene. Mrs. Hudson called to me and I came into the young sir's study. I dislike lying naturally, but unfortunately, it is the only cause I could think of under such short notice to remove you safely from the room."

Molly blinked several times as she looked back and forth between Mrs. Hudson and Leonard. "Are you telling me that Sherlock did not want to hurt me?" she asked softly.

Mrs. Hudson's eyes filled with tears. "Please, dear, don't ask any questions," she pleaded. "It is better that you know as little as possible. Just know that things are not always as they appear in this household."

Molly shook her head. "I saw documents in Sherlock's lock box," she said. "I read them and they said…"

"I am afraid that we are not at liberty to discuss Mr. Holmes's business, madam," Leonard said. "Not even with his wife. Now I am afraid that I must see you to your room and lock you in."

"Why do I need to be locked in?" she asked.

"Because Mr. Mycroft does not trust that you can stay out of trouble and were Sir Charles to come down and see you here when you are supposed to be entertaining Dr. Watson…." He let his words trail.

Molly paced in her room as she waited for someone to come and unlock the door for her. Her mind was reeling from what all that had occurred that day and from what she had discovered locked away in Sherlock's study. Finally, when she felt she might scream from frustration and exasperation, she heard the lock click on her door.

She quickly ran to it and tore it open. Leonard was standing in the hallway. "Where is Sherlock?" Molly demanded.

"I am afraid he is not feeling well this evening," Leonard said. "He has retired early." He turned without another word and left her standing in the hallway. Molly turned to look at her husband's bedroom door and her eyes narrowed. She would get to the bottom of this and it would be tonight.

She marched over to his bedroom door and turned the knob. It was unlocked and she walked in without knocking. She looked around the room and did not see him, but quickly turned her head when she heard a noise coming from the master bathroom.

"Sherlock," she called out walking quickly to the door. "Are you in there?"

"Go away," Sherlock shouted before a fit of coughs overtook him.

She heard him begin to vomit. "Sherlock, are you alright?" she asked, turning the knob.

"Don't come in," he managed to gasp out before vomiting again. She shoved the door open and saw him on his knees clutching the toilet.

"Sherlock!" she cried in concern and dropped down beside him. "What's wrong? Why are you ill?"

"Something I ate," he mumbled miserably.

Molly stood quickly and wet a cloth in the sink before dropping down beside him again. She placed the cold rag on the back of his neck and gently stroked his hair. "Sherlock?"

He turned to look at her before sliding down onto his backside. He pulled the lid down on the toilet and flushed. "I think it has passed," he said softly.

"You need to drink some water," she said worriedly, standing again. She got him a cup of water and sat back down beside him, putting the cup to his lips. "Sip," she commanded. He did as she told him, taking small sips of the cool water. It helped instantly, soothing his upset stomach. She put the cold rag to his head. "What on Earth did you eat?"

"What?" he asked. "Nothing…I haven't eaten anything since breakfast."

"But you said you ate something bad…"

He looked at her and frowned, realizing his mistake. He pressed the cool rag into his face, hoping she would drop the matter.

"Sherlock, why are you sick?" she pressed him.

"Why would you care?" he asked. His voice muffled by the cloth. "I have been terrible to you."

She took hold of the rag and pulled it away from him. She searched his face. "You're sick because of me aren't you? Because of what you nearly had to do today." She said softly.

"Oh God…" he said, his head rolling back and hitting the wall. "I've never laid my hands on a woman in violence…my mother would be appauled…my father…I don't even want to think what he would think of me."

"Sherlock, what is going on?"

"I am sorry…" he said. "Please know that I didn't want too…I would never hurt you like that…I am so sorry, but he has to think…"Sherlock shook his head, turning his face away from her.

"He has to think what?" she pressed.

"I've already said too much," he said, still refusing to look at her. "Molly, just know that I mean you no harm, really, no matter what I say and do to you. And I will say horrible things to you and threaten you with violence, but…I won't touch you. But you must ask me no more questions and you cannot go searching through my things."

"I want to know what is going on," she said.

"It is too dangerous," he said. "I can't involve you anymore than you already are."

"Sherlock, tell me..."

"No!" he shouted, rising from the floor. "I thank you for your kindness, it is more than I deserve, but you must go back to your room now."

Molly stood and stared up at him. "Why can't you…"

"I have said all that I will say on the matter," he snapped. He took hold of her arm and led her from the bathroom. "Now, please, I need to lie down and you need to return to your room. I will call down and have Mrs. Hudson bring your something to eat."

She stared at him hard, her eyes narrowing and she jerked her arm away from him.

A slow smile spread across his face. "Don't make me have to carry you, Molly," he said. "While I would greatly enjoy having you in my arms, I do not think you would find it as enjoyable."

"You're not a wicked man at all, are you?" she asked stubbornly. "I saw the papers in your lockbox. I know that my grandfather's business is fine and that his finances are being hidden by your brother. Now I demand to know why?"

He shrugged. "I did warn you," he said before swinging her up into his arms.

"Sherlock put me down!" she shrieked. As he carried her out into the hallway, they were met by the amused expression of Mycroft Holmes.

"Ah, wedded bliss," he drolled. "Sherlock can you please put your wife someplace where she will cease to be in everyone's hair? We have urgent matters to discuss, if you feel up to it."

"I have a right to know what is going on," she shouted indignantly as Sherlock carried her across the hallway.

"Yes well, sometimes life just isn't fair is it, Mrs. Holmes?" Mycroft asked clearly amused by her attempts to squirm free of her husband's hold. Sherlock sat her down on her feet in her room, shutting and locking the door behind him.

Molly banged loudly. "Let me out! You can't keep me locked in here!" she shouted.

Mycroft chuckled. "She's so full of passion for one that tries to act so cold," he remarked. "Perhaps all there needs to be is a merging of your fire stick into her icecap…"

Sherlock's face scrunched in distaste. "Please never, ever, use a metaphor like that again."

Whew...that was a long one! I hope you all enjoyed this one! Thanks so much! Hugs and love to all of you!