Thanks again for all the reviews. Glad you're enjoying this.

Chapter 3

'So what's the plan?' Asked Molly once she'd had a sip of her wine.

Sherlock sat back in his seat in the dimly lit pub, nursing his beer, 'Lily and her mother have lived in this village for the past four years ever since Lily's father died. Her mother remarried a local, by the name of Hugh Bennett, he's made a lot of money in the City in banking but took leave under suspicious circumstances about a month ago, financial irregularities possibly.'

'If Lily has got herself mixed up in some sort of cult it has to be based here or in one of the neighbouring villages. First step is to get chatting to the locals and see what stories we can dig up, see who might be involved but we need to be careful, any one of these people could be part of the cult and if they know we're on to them they may get rid of Lily sooner rather than waiting.'

As he spoke his eyes were taking in all the people in the pub, no doubt deducing the life out of them, Molly knew what that felt like. She also couldn't help but notice just how many of them were also glancing at her and Sherlock and murmuring about them to each other. Nothing like newcomers in a village to set tongues wagging.

'And how do you know so much about the occult, I thought you'd delete that sort of information as irrelevant just like the solar system.' She giggled a little as she mentioned the latter and Sherlock looked back at her with his eyes narrowed.

'Hmm, John told you about that did he? I keep telling him that in order to keep my brain working at maximum capacity I have to delete useless and irrelevant information.'

Molly lifted up her glass, 'so how come you've retained what my favourite drink is then?'

Sherlock was struck dumb momentarily as he wondered to himself why he had kept that, but she'd moved on.

'No, but seriously the occult?'

'Well, you'd be surprised how many criminals use spiritualism or cults for their own gain. But more importantly when I was disbanding Moriary's network I actually came across one group who saw James Moriarty as the reincarnation of Aleister Crowley. They were determined to call up his spirit and force a new reincarnation. Completely mad but two girls were killed in sacrifices to try and accomplish it.'

Molly was about to reply when Sherlock leant forward whispering in her ear, 'the barman has just come back down. He seems chatty, get him talking, tell him you're interested in the well and other local superstitions.'

He stood up, picking up his coat which he'd taken off earlier, and said more loudly, 'I'm off to my room then Molly, I'll meet you later for dinner.'

'OK.' She smiled widely and watched as he made his way to the stairs watching him duck in order to fit through the doorway, all the while trying not to be too obvious about the way she was staring at his backside in those oh so tight trousers.

After he'd gone she took her drink over to the bar and sat on one of the bar stool, 'hey, do you mind if I sit here for a bit? I haven't quite finished my drink yet and I hate to drink alone.'

'God, yeah course. Sit yourself down girl. So what's brings you to our dismal little village?'

'My...um...colleague has been asked to look into the disappearance of Lily Shepherd. Do you know her?'

'Yeah I do, believe me everybody knows everybody in this place. No keeping any secrets here. She's a cute kid, pretty in a conventional way, like her mum, now she's a bit of a goer that one, went through the men in the village like a dose of salts, married and single, when she first arrived. She fell on her feet with Hugh though, he's loaded.'

He carried on, 'I was sorry to hear Lily had run away. She'd been to my drama group a couple of times soon after they moved here but it wasn't really her thing and she didn't stay. Grapevine has it that she was unhappy at home and her boyfriend's involved in her disappearance but he's walking round looking depressed as and denying all knowledge. So who knows!'

He poured Molly another drink winking and whispering, 'on the house.'

He went on, 'so what's the deal between you and the hottie you've brought with you? Coz I so would! Does he swing just your way or do I have a chance with him as well?'

Molly nearly spat out her drink at his forwardness but he just laughed, 'come on, I know you would. I saw the way your eyes followed his ass out of the bar. What gives?'

Molly thought for a second before answering, 'honestly from what I hear most of the time he doesn't swing anyway at all. I've heard rumours about him being both straight and gay so your guess is as good as mine. All I know is he isn't interested in me, believe me I've tried, but no...we're just friends.'

'Well, OK if you say so. Well as we're friends now I won't go there. And anyway like I said earlier I see a connection between you both. He may not acknowledge it yet but it's there and it will come out you mark my words. God I sound like an old witchey hag from a movie or something.'

Molly took a chance, 'so you never had a premonition about Lily then?'

'Funny you should ask that, I do remember getting a black feeling from her when we first met, like a cloud hanging over her future. But other than that no, some feelings are stronger than others.

'A place like this must be full of superstitions though. I mean what's the deal with that well right in the middle of the pub?'

'I know right, there are so many odd things about this village that I could tell you about...'

At that moment the landlady came out of the back office and asked Adrian to take over in the kitchens, he nodded and turned back to Molly, 'duty calls. Listen, I'm free tomorrow, if you're around I can give you the full tour of the village, tell you everything. What do you say?'

Molly smiled, 'well, I'll have to check whether Sherlock needs me but if not, yes that sounds great.'

'Cool, and my god, does he always wear shirts that tight? I swear I got a hard on just looking at him.' With that and grinning widely, Adrian made his way out of the bar and into the kitchen.

Molly laughed again, glad to have found a sympathetic ear.

After she'd finished her drink she made her way up to her room which was fairly small but beautifully decorated, in keeping with the old fashioned nature of the pub. The only discordant note was a bizarre picture on the wall opposite her bed. It caught Molly's eye as she picked up her suitcase to unpack and she had to go over to take a closer look.

It was a black and white print and seemed to be a horde of demons ransacking a kitchen. There were dismembered heads on plates and strange contorted beings part human, part animal. It made Molly shudder and she wondered whether she should take it down or turn it to face the wall or something. It was so strange it made her feel almost violated and dirty for looking at it.

Just at that moment she heard laughter from downstairs in the bar and she gave a shake of her head, she was just being daft it was only a picture. Instead she concentrated on unpacking a few bits and pieces and freshening up in the tiny en suite shower room before knocking on the door to the bedroom next to hers.

'Come in Molly, door's open.'

Molly went in to find Sherlock's room was about half the size of her own. Adrian hadn't been kidding when he said he'd give her the better room. There was little more than a double bed, wardrobe, an armchair in the corner under a sloping eave and a bedside cabinet.

Sherlock was lying on the mahogany wood framed bed, thinking. He'd thrown his coat and jacket onto the chair so in lieu of anywhere else to sit Molly kicked off her shoes and sat at the bottom of the bed, leaning against the footboard with her hands wrapped around her knees.

'How did you get on?' He asked without even opening his eyes.

Molly couldn't help letting her eyes wander over his body. Given the humid almost oppressive warmth of the room he had removed his shoes and his jacket and rolled up his shirt sleeves. His arms looked all veins and muscles and Molly found herself fantasising about what those long artistic fingers could do to her.

'Molly?' Her reverie was broken as she realised he was looking at her slightly puzzled.

'Oh..um..sorry. Well, I got chatting to the barman. He was nice.'

'Keep to the relevant facts Molly.'

'He knows the family...' And Molly explained everything she had learnt about Lily and her mum. 'He's offered to take me out tomorrow and show me the village, tell me all about it.'

'Excellent,' Sherlock sat up so fast that it made Molly jump a little, he suddenly seemed to be that much closer to her. 'See what gossip you can pick up, it seems as though he'd be a good source and he obviously likes you. I'll go to the family home and check out the girl's bedroom, talk to the mother and step-father and see what else I can glean.'

Molly couldn't resist her next sentence, 'I think he likes you more.'

'What? Who?'

'Adrian, the barman. I think he fancies you.'

Sherlock tilted his head slightly looking at her thoughtfully, 'not my area Molly, I would have thought you of all people would know that.'

Molly couldn't quite believe what came over her but she couldn't help asking, 'You mean you're not gay?'

He narrowed his eyes and smiled a strange smile before eventually answering. 'No, Molly. I'm not gay.'

He stood and picked up his jacket, changing the subject, 'dinner? I'm not hungry myself but John berates me if I don't keep him regularly fed so I'm assuming you would feel the same.'

'Yes, thanks.' Molly took his proffered hand as he helped her off his bed.

As they walked down the narrow stairs a thought suddenly struck her, 'hang on, what did you mean by me of all people?'

'Molly, I've always told you that you matter the most, you're as bad as John, you see but you don't observe. Right, do you want to find a table, I'll get the drinks.'

Molly still wasn't quite sure what he meant but figured it was easier to let it go than pursue it. She'd already had two glasses of wine and it was going to her head a little. She needed some food in her before she embarked on a third. It felt fun though, almost like being on holiday, which when she thought about it, she agreed it was for her. All this, solving crimes with Sherlock, it was a vacation from her normal life tucked away from the world in her morgue.

MHMHMHMHMHMHMHMHMH

The food in the pub was delicious. Molly had polished off a homemade Cottage Pie with fresh vegetables as well as indulging in a summer fruit pudding afterwards. It was a little disconcerting to sit there eating whilst Sherlock just drank and surveyed the pub but the wine helped her to ignore him.

By the end of the third glass she had lost some of her inhibitions around him and was actively teasing him about his confirmed bachelor status. 'Don't you ever just need somebody though, don't you ever feel lonely? I know I do. Living alone with a cat is just sad. I suppose at least you have Mrs Hudson for company.'

Sherlock raised his eyebrows, 'I have Mrs Hudson for company! That's supposed to be a bonus is it? Anyway if I need somebody I can have you. Isn't that what you told me all those years ago?'

Molly blushed and giggled knowing somewhere deep down that she was in danger of embarrassing herself. 'I did say that a bit awkwardly didn't I, not that I didn't mean you couldn't have me, because you could, if you wanted to, not that you want to I mean...so, I'm not sure what I was saying. What was I saying?'

He leant in and Molly found herself mirroring his actions and leaning towards him, 'you were saying I could have you if I wanted you.' His voice was low in her ear, that deep baritone seeming to rumble right through her. She bit her lip and shook her head trying to feel a bit more sober.

He sat back in his chair and downed the rest of his pint, 'right, I think we've probably had enough. It's past eleven. Are you coming up Molly?'

He stood up and looked down on her smirking, dammit he's doing this on purpose, knowing how much he affects me, her fuddled brain was telling her.

'Mmm, I suppose so.'

She followed him up the stairs wondering how she was going to manage to sleep given all the dirty thoughts going through her mind right now.

Poor Molly, it seems Sherlock is in a flirty mood. If anyone wants to check out the print in her room I'm afraid I forget the title but it is an etching by Pieter Bruegel the Elder. All his etchings seem to be of a similar vein so you'll get the idea.

Anyhow, I'll post the next chapter soon, maybe Sunday. Keep your reviews coming in, you know I love them xxx