"Don't just stand there like a statue. Come and join me, there's still a chair free to sit on!", he invited her, his voice so normal almost kind.
Molly slowly stepped towards the chair and towards him and stopped uncertainly next to it. Moriarty watched her his eyes slitted like those of a snake and between clenched he requested her to sit, what she then unwillingly did.
"Technology nowadays... it's astounding isn't it?", he began to tell her, "One simple code and one can hack into every phone of every person, then look for information or plant them there. It really was a great idea sending you those messages. Quite funny and entertaining, indeed. Oh and you still love him, don't you? It was so clearly to be seen!"
If Molly didn't know it any better she would have thought he really cared stating that last thing. He seemed like a grandma being happy for her grandchild. But to everything Moriarty said or did was a catch. Although she didn't know what he would gain from that information. Everyone knew she was into Sherlock, but it was also clear, and Moriarty had so aptly observed it himself, that it was unrequited by Sherlock. She may have mattered to him two years ago but this fleeting moment had passed with Sherlock's fall and him going away. She wasn't even sure what, what had happened between them over the last days really meant. Could Moriarty even know about that? Their kiss had happened in private and even if Moriarty had seen them afterwards investigating crime scenes together he couldn't possibly know about it or guess something had happened. Or could he? After all he had his men everywhere and who knows which of his so praised technology he owned allowed him to spy on people...
Molly decided to finally say something to maybe prevent the worst and just hoped he didn't know about the kiss: "Same old same old I guess... I still care about him, but that can't be said about him."
"Painful isn't it? To love someone who doesn't love you back?"
"Bearable...", Molly allowed herself to play with fire now, "After all I have my fiance now."
Moriarty looked astonished then he observed her hands: "I see... no ring."
"I came here straight from work and have forgotten to put it on again."
"Molly, Molly, Molly! So forgetful... I thought that was a trait not so familiar to you. After all you always remembered so much about everything you and Sherlock had talked about and I had told you and you didn't seem forgetful then..."
"Accidents happen."
"Yes, I think so."
Molly gathered up all her courage to ask the next thing: "Why am I here? What do you want? Why are you back?"
"Boredom. Fun. And... Boredom. Two years playing hide and seek, perfecting my underground network of spies and assassins only to have it destroyed by not-so-dead Sherlock again. I had to go into defense mode again. And I kind of missed you all. Your fun to play with! So predictable, so easy to manipulate and of course the perfect bait!"
Having said the last words the door to the morgue was pushed open with such force that it threw the "guard dog" off his feet. In the threshold stood non other than Sherlock first examining the groaning man on the ground before turning to face the scene in front of him. Molly and Moriarty sitting opposite each other as if having tea time. Molly with the back to him and Moriarty smiling at him like they were the best of friends.
"What is going on here?", he asked his deep voice sounding through the room and instantly soothing Molly's nerves.
She hadn't noticed how still she had sat the whole time. Now she relaxed and all her muscles ached. She noticed Moriarty glancing towards her and internally chided herself for giving him even that subtle an information.
"Hello, Sherlock and welcome back from the dead!", Moriarty greeted him, "Me and Molly were just having a little chat. Care to join us?"
Sherlock took in the whole scenery again, scanning every detail. Something was wrong, but he couldn't think of what and there wasn't any time to make up a plan. He cursed himself for not having called John before going here. He didn't even leave a note. Not that he was scared of Moriarty killing him, his own life didn't matter to him that much. But there was someone in the room that made him feel uncomfortable, bare even vulnerable. Molly Hooper – his pathologist and the one who's life really mattered now and was in grave danger.