Here it is, chapter number SIX!
I'm really sorry it took so long, but I had good reason, I swear.
On that note, I'd like to thank everyone who wrote me to get well; it kept me strong.
And, of course, I'd like to thank my super-amazing beta, Old Ping Hai.
Enjoy
Why Are You Kissing The Scary Man?
When Emily opens her eyes from her weird dream about a talking rabbit, the car has pulled off next to a half dozen police cars in the middle of bloody nowhere. She looks around her and all she sees is the flashing sirens of the police cars and trees. Lots of trees. Other than that, there's a complete darkness, and Emily doesn't like creepy dark places. She starts feeling scared for a moment, and presses her head even further into Sherlock's chest, as if she can crawl into his body and he'll protect her as a shield. But then, instead of being scared, she listens carefully to Sherlock's beating heart and calms down instantly. The rapid- steady pulse soothes her in a way that makes her decide that Sherlock's heartbeats are now her favorite sound in the world. She feels safe; she knows that as long as she hears this heart beating – nothing bad can ever happen to her.
Sherlock opens the door and walks out of the cab; still with Emily in his arms. His arms are sore, but he holds her tight as if she is the most valuable thing in the world. He stands near the cab, waits for John to pay the cabbie, and doesn't move from his spot.
"I know you're awake," Sherlock whispers to her, "but don't make a sound and don't open your eyes. Can you do that?" He feels a slight nod and tightens his embrace. "If you want to see mommy, I need you to act as if you're still asleep. It's the only way to convince your father. I trust you, Emily, do your best." He kisses her temple softly and starts walking toward one of the police cars, where he knows he will find his favorite Detective Inspector.
Detective Inspector Lestrade is standing near his car and staring at the familiar tall figure walking toward him. The only thing that's wrong with that figure, is that it's holding a child.
Sherlock bloody Holmes with a child.
He knows it's probably John's child, Emily, if he remembers correctly, but that doesn't make this sight any less does his best to smile as Sherlock approaches him, and ignores the little blond girl in his arms.
"Care to explain? What are we doing here, Sherlock?" Sherlock looks at Emily for a second and takes a deep breath. He doesn't know how to explain this gently enough that she wouldn't start crying.
"Ms. Morstan", he starts, and looks at Lestrade to see if he understands. He does. "and Moriarty burst into our residence, and took Ms. Hooper. I talked to Mycroft, and he says that there's a great chance that Mo—I mean, Ms. Hooper, is in a warehouse half a mile from here. Moriarty and Ms. Morstan are probably there, too. I need you to back us up when we go in."
Lestrade looks at Emily in Sherlock arms, and tries not to wonder if she is included in the 'us' part of the plan. Trying not to think too much into it, he nods. "No problem. I'll make sure that everything goes smoothly. Have you got your… hmm… protection?"
Sherlock tugs the backside of his trousers and feels the reassuring hard metal that will help him, if necessary, to defend Emily and John. He nods and thanks Lestrade.
He turns around and looks for John, who still stands alone with his arms crossed. His clenched jaw and his posture says nothing but exhaustion. He tries to smile at Sherlock when he catches his gaze, but even a blind man could have seen that this smile is completely fake and filled with emotional distress.
"Are you ready?" Sherlock asks him. Not that he thinks even for a slight second that the answer would be 'no'.
"What about Emily? Can we leave her with Lestrade? Or Sally?"
"Of course not, John, what if something goes wrong and they have to come in? They will leave her alone in the car. She is sleeping, you can't just put her into Lestrade's arms and them let him leave her asleep in a police car. In the middle of the night. In a deserted forest." He feels Emily shake a bit in his arms to the sound of this horrible description. She hates being alone. But more than that, she hates being alone in the dark. "No way. It's either she is going with us, or one of us stays here."
John stares at him with the sort of anger and shock that only Sherlock is able to get from him. After a long minute of silence, his lips stretch into a tight and angry smile. "All right, then. You stay with her."
"No. Come on, let's go." Sherlock starts walking toward the dark warehouse, Emily still in his arms.
"What the hell do you mean 'no'?!" He hears John yelling behind him. "She is my child, Sherlock!"
"She is also Ms. Morstan's child, don't you think?" Sherlock says as he increases his pace and signals Lestrade that they are leaving for the warehouse.
"Ms. Morstan's child?! So now you are taking her side? How could you?" he says and grabs Sherlock's shoulder hard, hard enough that he almost drops Emily from the pain. He turns around and sees the murderous look in John eyes.
"Her side? This is some kind of a joke, right? It has nothing about taking sides, John. You know I… I have done some things in my life to protect you. Both of you. And I would do them again if your life was at stake. But right now, the child has a right to see her mother, and I wouldn't have tried to bring her if I thought she wouldn't be completely safe with us. She will be."
"Can you promise me that, Sherlock?"
"Yes."
They walk for a few minutes and stop right outside of the warehouse. Lights shining from the door's edges confirmed their suspicion that it was occupied. The three of them listen carefully; Emily, who now is standing next to Sherlock and holding his hand, is somehow the most composed of the three of them. She doesn't squint when she hears Moriarty's high pitch laughter, even though he still terrifies her, and she doesn't even gape when she hears her lovely sitter from earlier tonight cry in misery.
John, on the other hand, is covered with stress-sweat while his left hand stays completely still. It's not that he is afraid of danger, for god sake's, this is (Captain) John Watson we're talking about. No, he is afraid of his wi—ex wife. But more than that, he is afraid for his little brave child's life.
Even though he knows he can trust Sherlock with everything in his life, he can't stop worrying for Emily — physically and mentally. Whatever's in there, it may scar her for life.
Sherlock is the first one to make a move toward the door. He glances quickly to where Lestrade and his team are supposed to be and confirms that they are keeping an eye on them. He squeezes Emily's hand and opens the door.
They all go still; John looks angry, Sherlock has a rare expression of surprise and Emily just seems confused, but all for the same reason. In the small warehouse they see the thing none of them expected to see—Mary Morstan Watson and James Moriarty were kissing. Not a friendly 'peck on the cheek' kind of kiss, but a kiss that only two passionate lovers might share.
Emily is the first one to speak, but she does so very quietly that Mary barely hears her, but she does.
"Mommy?" she whispers. Mary breaks the kiss and turns her head to see Emily staring at her with her big green eyes. "Sweetie…" she begins, but Emily ignores her.
"Why are you kissing the scary man? You told me that when people kiss that's only because they love each other more than anything."
Mary takes a step toward her, and Emily takes another step back but keeps her hand tight in Sherlock's.
"Why are you kissing the scary man, mommy? You said that you'd only ever kiss daddy. You said that."
There are tears sliding on her face, but her voice doesn't crack.
All the eyes in the room are locked on the little girl, the brave one with the messy blond hair, but no one knows what else there is to say.
Emily moves her eyes from her mother, and looks at the bleeding sitter who is tied to a chair. She squeezes Sherlock's hand harder and looks at Molly again. He nods and releases her hand, taking a step toward Molly.
"Where do you think you're going?" Moriarty says and in a split second, there's a gun pointed at Sherlock's direction. Emily gasps behind him in fear and turns to bury her head in her daddy's leg.
"You know, I didn't come here in the middle of the night to watch the two of you exchange body fluids. I need Molly to come home with me." Sherlock takes another step toward Molly and stops when Moriarty turns off the safety latch.
"If you go on another step, I promise you, I will blow up your head," he says calmly, and smirks when Sherlock's head turns quickly toward the shaking child.
"What do you want?" John asks him with enough venom in his voice to scare anyone. Anyone but James Moriarty, it seems.
"You and your brat can go, Johnny boy, this is for Sherlock."
John meets Sherlock's gaze and it seems like they're having one of their telepathic conversations. Although, judging by their faces, it looks more like an argument.
"Sherlock…"
"Just go, John."
"I can't. Sorry." John moves his gaze from Sherlock's and pulls his own gun, aiming it directly on Moriarty. He shoves Emily behind him and feels her holding tight to his trousers. Sherlock grunts and shakes his head. This was not part of his plan.
"All right, then. Welcome aboard, Johnny," Moriarty lets a big grin show up on his face.
"Sherlock, do you want to rescue your beloved? You know what you have to do, don't you?" Jim's grin gets somehow larger and meets his eyes.
"What do you need now?" Sherlock asks irritated. He was going to tell John all about this before, but it seems like the truth is about to come to light, and it's not even the complete one. He just knows that John will feel betrayed and won't listen to him. God, he hopes he is wrong.
"Your little friends from the Yard are starting to annoy me," Moriarty starts. "I assume you've heard about the missing senator?" Sherlock nods and tries to ignore John's piercing stare on his back.
"Well, I know you've been very helpful to them so far, but I need you to lead them to the other direction. I need a bit more time."
Sherlock takes a deep breath. He has to do it as convincingly as possible. He can't just jump and say he'll do it, right? Moriarty is suspicious enough.
"You know, Sherly, you can say no." He says and shifts his gun toward Molly. "But then you'll have no one to sleep with you. Your choice." Sherlock takes another deep breath and looks at Moriarty as if he is daring him to shoot.
Moriarty loads his gun and presses it closely to Molly's skull. She hasn't made a sound until now. She is sobbing and murmuring to herself. Probably prayers.
"Fine!" Sherlock shouts. "Fine, I'll do it. I'll lead them the other way. Two days, Moriarty, that's all you'll have from me." He swallows hard and breathes fast.
"It's a deal. You can come take her now." He lowers his gun and glares at Sherlock. "But if you won't, I promise you that she won't live long enough for you to fuck her." Sherlock gives him the most murderous look he has, and Mary nudges him strongly in the ribs for talking like that next to her little daughter. It makes Sherlock and John even angrier that this is the only scenario she thinks is twisted in this entire ordeal.
Sherlock unties the ropes that keep Molly stuck to the chair while she sobs quietly. The second the last rope is hanging loose she gets up and turns to bury her head into Sherlock's neck. He hugs her and whispers to her, ignoring everyone's stare on them. Ignoring Emily's curious look and John's shocked one. He has a lot to explain later.
"Let's go home," he whispers to Molly and she nods. He kisses her forehead and breaks the hug, indicating her to walk outside. Sherlock waits until Molly and John walk out, right into the warm arms of Lestrade's team. Emily stays in the warehouse and still looks at him with the suspicious look on her face. Sherlock bends to her and takes her hand; "Any questions you may have, I'll answer them tomorrow. Let's go home, all right?" She tightens her grip in Sherlock's with a big warm smile, and nods.
God, he loves that child.