Molly screamed as Jim suddenly attacked Sherlock, clubbing him on the forehead with the butt of his pistol. Her scream was cut short, however, as one of the two thugs dashed over and clamped a meaty hand across the lower half of her face, half-smothering her as he very efficiently silenced her.
She could hear John and Mary shouting from the cupboard, the sound of one of them pounding on the door, even the rattle of the latch as she struggled to breathe, but all she could see was Sherlock's unconscious, bleeding form at her feet as she clawed at the hand covering her face in a futile effort to free herself.
The sight of Jim stepping directly in front of her captured her attention, especially once he held up a large syringe filled with a clear liquid, a few drops dripping from the tip. "Your choice, Molly," he said, capturing her eyes with his, a small smile playing about his lips. "The easy way, or the hard way." He leaned forward to whisper in her ear, "And we both know who'll suffer most if you go for the hard way, don't we." Then he laid a deliberate hand on her still-flat abdomen, splaying his fingers out and giving a light caress before pulling back to study her.
He must have read her decision in what he could see of her face or in her body language, because he jerked his head and the hand covering her face vanished, although it then clamped itself on her shoulder. She took a breath, then another, trying to calm herself enough to speak rationally, while Jim watched her with the patience of a predator who knows the inevitability of the outcome.
"I'll go with you," she said when she felt she could trust her voice. Thankfully there were no tears, although she knew they would come later. "Just…promise me you'll let everyone else go."
Jim's smile widened into a delighted grin. "I knew you'd be sensible, Molly, you always were a pragmatic girl at heart. As for letting everyone else go, well…" His features dropped into an exaggerated frown and he shook his head slowly. "Sorry, Molly, but no can do. Oh, everyone here," he raised a hand and waved it lazily about to indicate the other captives, "gets to go free; after all, a proper Boy Meets Girl story has to have some sort of romantic tension to it, doesn't? The spurned lover trying to come between Boy and Girl, not to mention the domesticated assassin gunning for said Boy…" He glanced over at the closet, and Molly's brow wrinkled in confusion. What was he talking about, John used to be a soldier, sure, but that hardly meant he'd been an assassin!
Jim was talking again, and Molly forgot about her confusion as she concentrated on his words. "But yes, I'll leave Sherlock and the Watsons alive for now, and as for Judge Harding…"
This time he glanced over Molly's shoulder, to the fiftyish man who'd performed the wedding ceremony. Was Moriarty about to reveal that he hadn't, after all, been the real judge, but a decoy, a fake? Were she and Sherlock not legally married after all?
"The judge will wait exactly thirty minutes after that door closes behind the four of us." He nodded at the door to the judge's chambers, with its frosted glass panels and brass fixtures. "Then he'll let the Watsons out so they can report your kidnapping. After he does that, he'll go here." He pulled a small business card from his suit jacket pocket and flipped it toward the older man, who fumbled but caught it in his hands. "That's where she'll be waiting, your little Christina. His granddaughter," he added, turning his attention back to Molly. "As the late, unlamented Charles Augustus Magnussen would say, his pressure point."
He grinned toothily and it took everything in her not to shrink back as he held out his hand. "Come along, Molly. We have one quick stop to make before we head out of the country."
"Where are you taking me?" Molly asked as she felt his fingers curl around her own, tugging her away from the thug behind her. She felt the other man's hand release her shoulder, but the itching sensation on the back of her neck told her he was watching her, waiting for her to try something. If it was just her own life at stake, she probably would, rather than allow herself to be so docilely lead away from her husband and friends, but there was another life to consider now, the one she and Sherlock had so impetuously made the night he confessed that his feelings for her went beyond mere friendship.
She didn't look down at Sherlock's unconscious form, knowing that if she did so she'd lose her nerve, do something stupid and end up being drugged by Moriarty. A fate she wished to avoid at all costs; it would kill her if she did anything to cause harm to the small life developing inside her.
"Just a quick stop at Baker Street to pick up little Lucy Watson. After all, Baby Sherlock needs a big sister to look after him." He turned to face Molly again with a gleam in his eyes that wasn't quite sane. "What an adorable family you three are going to be – a Holmes and a Watson for me to raise, with you as their loving Mummy."
Without looking, he tossed the gun he'd been holding into the air, where it was deftly caught by the closer of the two thugs. Molly bit her lip, nails digging into the palms of her hands as she realized that Moriarty knew the one thing she'd hoped had escaped his notice. He beckoned her closer, then paused and glanced down at Sherlock. Molly's gaze involuntarily followed his, and she flinched as she saw how badly her husband's head was bleeding, the waxiness of his skin, the darkening bruise on his forehead.
It wasn't Sherlock's head that had caught Moriarty's attention, however; as Molly watched, he knelt down and took Sherlock's hand in his, carefully working the wedding band off his finger. Then he stood up, examining it carefully before sliding it onto his own finger. Then he smiled brightly and offered Molly his arm. "Well! Here we are, newlyweds, off on our honeymoon. Won't this be fun, darling?"
Molly was trembling, unable to stop from shaking as she stepped across Sherlock and allowed Jim to take her arm. "Remember, Molly, as long as you cooperate, everyone lives." Jim placed his hand on hers and squeezed; she looked up to meet his gaze and he smiled at her. "This is going to be so much fun, Molly," he assured her. "Just you wait and see."
Then he escorted her out of the judge's chambers, down the hall and out of the building.
She only hoped that Sherlock would recover soon and find them before Molly was forced to play happy families with the madman strolling by her side.