Molly looked at the towering figure doubtfully, her senses finally coming to her. "And…why exactly should I believe anything you say?" she asked, stepping away from him rather than coming forward to him. Despite how much she cared for Sherlock, John, Mrs. Hudson, or even Lestrade, she was not going to go anywhere with a psychopath she knew nothing about the intentions of. Her job wasn't to be a martyr, and all this would do was drive everyone mad looking for her. At least, that's what she believed. As of late, Sherlock had been rather set on her knowing that she mattered, and if she left now, she would be wasting everything Sherlock had done for her in the past months.

She couldn't do that to him. Any of them, not after what they'd done for her.

"Damn, I didn't expect this change of attitude from you. Not so quickly," Moriarty sighed out, groaning. "You were much more fun when you were mousy," he drawled, clucking his tongue. "Maybe Sherlock rubbed off on you. Or maybe you're just selfish."
Molly bit her tongue, not wanting to respond to any of those intentioned insults. It was obvious to her that he was trying to trick her somehow, make her submit. If she just waited a bit longer, maybe someone would find them. Surely wherever Sherlock was, he would be getting home soon. He wasn't on any cases lately above a 5. Even if he wasn't coming home soon, maybe she could signal Mrs. Hudson to call the Yard, or Mary or John would come to visit…

"Stop."
The chilling, angry voice made her snap to attention, her chest tightening as her nervous system reminded her of what all this man had done. She was losing her nerve quickly, but the adrenaline she had to protect herself was still there, and she was desperately clinging to it. What would Sherlock do in this situation? She tried to think back to cases he'd grumbled about in the lab, how the victim should have defended themselves depending on weapon, he'd said something about kneeing the chest to knock the breath out of them if they had a gun, they'd drop it. Moriarty was too clever, though. Continuing to try and think of self defense rather than any of the ways Moriarty could easily kill her, she attempted glancing away from him as the smile on his face grew.

His sharp cackling filled the air, causing her to jump back, nearly losing her balance, but she forced a long, steadying breath from herself, standing her ground. Moriarty scowled at that immediately, taking a step towards her. "Are you trying to make me angry, pet? You never seemed to enjoy doing that while we were together."

Molly blinked furiously. He was trying to get to her mentally so that he could get to her physically. That much was clear. She tried to ignore it. Ignore the wild look in his eyes, the gruesome smile, the way he studied her as if he was trying to think of all the different ways he could kill her with delight in his expression in doing so.

"I underestimated you, Molly Hooper," he said, tilting his head to the side and looking at her curiously. "I overlooked you entirely. Should've had a sniper positioned on you in the first place." He shook his head and shrugged, turning away from her and striding a few steps away nonchalantly. "Nobody's perfect," he said in a singsong voice. "Not even me… well, I don't count." He turned sharply to stare at her. "Or is that you?"

"What do you want?" Molly finally built the courage to ask. Eventually, he would run out of ways to babble on with her and just take her, and she knew that she was outmatched in strength, height and cunning, but maybe she was faster. If she played her cards right, she could think of only two mechanisms to undertake if he charged her.

1) Knock the gun out of his hand.

2) Run away.

The latter seemed more welcoming, but unfortunately he was closer to the door. If she moved, he would see what she was doing. She didn't want to touch him, surely she'd lose. He'd grab her and have her unconscious in one hit; she knew that. Then again, she had the element of surprise. He wasn't expecting her to be brave enough to do this if she herself wasn't…right?

Moriarty sneered at her question, her voice sounding afraid though her trembling had slowed substantially. "From you? Not much of anything, not really." He scrunched his eyes at the corners, his voice strained as he lifted his shoulders and ducked his head, his hands folded behind his back. As always, his emotions were overplayed. He was being overdramatically indifferent, and somehow that only managed to strengthen her instead of frighten her like it would have initially. Of course, she was still horrified. But something seemed different. She felt like she'd defeated him before, in a way. Not alone, of course, but she'd helped. It made her feel like she had a fighting chance. Most definitely not an upper hand, but a chance.

"I'm really trying to get to Sherlock. Seeing as to how he, oh, how did he phrase it to the skull… 'cares deeply'," Moriarty said, making his voice lower to imitate Sherlock at the quote, making Molly's forehead crease in confusion, "for you, it only makes sense to eliminate you." He smiled, feeling like he'd reeled her in, distracted her just enough with the comment.

Molly knew this man was mental. The very fact that she was listening to him at all made her question herself, but she was thrown off. Sherlock had been talking to his skull? About her? He cared deeply for her?

What am I doing? she instantly thought, shaking her head abruptly. Oh, that was cruel. Of course he'd use an emotional trap on her. He always did that, had she learned nothing from what Sherlock told her about their little rooftop showdown? She supposed this was hers. She'd have to try to think as quickly as he had, and she hoped she could manage to do that. "Stop," she said, sounding weaker than she'd wanted but still bringing a scowl to the consulting criminal's face. "You know, I wasn't going to drug you. I really, really wasn't. But I thought you would be easier than this."

She froze up for a moment, but her body braced for any kind of impact, and she bent her knees just a bit, trying to ready herself for anyone swinging at her. Basic anatomy taught her this. People were more balanced, more sturdy with their knees bent. It allowed for more pressure. She would not allow herself to be drugged. She would be offed in a moment if that happened, and she was well aware.

"Now, sweetie, don't get me wrong," Moriarty said, stepping towards her and glaring down at her, an insane grin on his face. Molly took a deep breath, shaking slightly as he came forward, but she needed to let him do just that. If she had any chance at all, he had to be sickeningly close.

"I love a challenge, but you're too mundane for me to waste any more time." He stepped closer. She continued to stare daggers at him, or at least that's how she tried to appear. Her eyes were blown wide with fear, and she looked scared out of her wits, but she was also focused, and that's all that mattered.

"Now then, are you going to be a good little girl, kitten? Or am I going to have to force-"

As soon as his left foot brushed against her right, she lunged upwards, propelling herself forward to him with the top of her head poised to crush against his face.

I am very incredibly sorry for a... oh lord. Three month hiatus. I'm really, really sorry for that! I have every intention to continue this story, without any S3 involved, considering it doesn't follow the plotline I had planned out, as I hadn't seen S3 when I wrote the first chapters of this story. So anything happening in this story isn't taking S3 into account at all. Okay. Have a lovely day, and thank you so very much for reading.

[Oh, and I'd like to portray Molly as something other than a damsel in distress, because that's not her character. I think we all can agree she's stronger and more surprising than most people think ;)]