Author: Howlynn
Realm: Sherlock
Story Title: A Statue in the Temple of Mendacity.
Summary: Molly counts. She Promised to help him. But, the reality of saving Sherlock ends up leading to places she never expected. Sherlock needs her again, but this time she must save John.

Character/Relationships: John and Molly would never have noticed each other if he were not dead. The thing is, Molly knows he isn't and she never expected things to get this complicated.

I Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

She deleted the texts and smiled as she sees John, standing unobtrusively by the door, hardly noticeable to the people who walked by him. But when he spots her, his face lights up and she sighs in pleasure, confident that this compact, scarcely conspicuous man had just made her world a lot more exciting. She pauses, memorizing that smile, delighted that she has put it there.

"You're going to think I'm horrible, but is there any chance that you might fancy a trip back to my flat for a bit of shagging?" he whispered low and sounding as if he thought she would probably turn him down.

"That sounds almost too good to be true. But if we are going to do this…well more. I mean I am not saying I expect that. But if we are… if you aren't bored or tired of me or anything. I need to make a rule. Well, two actually."

He snickered his eyes flash to her as he speaks, "No shooting your phone?"

"That is the second one. Actually. But if you take up, what you thought about last night, you have to give me thirty days. You have to stop shagging me for thirty days so I have time to know it wasn't me. It wasn't my fault. If I have a lovely shag with you and then…that. It would destroy me. I want this with you, and I know that I can't make it… fix that…I'm just asking you to not take me with you? Sort of?"

John's face darkened for a moment and she was sure he was going to turn into the Hyde version. His voice was low but not unkind, "Ok. I can see that. I would hate to hurt you and of course you know I would understand, far too well, in fact. In return, we have honesty. Both ways. So if you get to the point, you can't stand the sight of me. You tell me, this is the last time. Because, I want the last memory to be…well…not average. Has to be extraordinary. Deal?"

Molly returned to her own flat that night wondering what that crazy man could possibly hope to call extraordinary. Twenty-six minutes was already in the realm of spectacular.

Her phone rang exactly ten minutes after she arrived home. She was in the lavatory, of course.

Molly gave Sherlock the basics of what had occurred, leaving out one detail that she just couldn't bring herself to say.

"So, you are play-acting dating him? You don't have to do that. Introduce him to one of those little snippy nurses you try to pretend are your friends ," Sherlock suggests.

"No. I can't. Yet. I mean, if you think about it, that wouldn't be very nice. I think it is better to keep it simple. I mean if they really liked him and he got in one of those…moods again. He might hurt someone."

"True. But he could just as easily hurt you and I can't let that occur."

"I have to assume, that that was the worst. I mean, he was horribly drunk. I managed. If it's me, then I can control the argument a bit too. I mean, if he just dates some nobody and she were to throw him over. At the wrong time? He would just be gone, we would never have a clue why."

"Oh for God sakes, I can't stand this."

"Then you have to let me tell him."

"Impossible. He would find me. Or try something equally stupid. I know him. It would hurt him more to know I left him behind. I'm not strong enough to say no to him if he offers to come."

"There is only one person who can fix him. It's not me. Are you sure that you are strong enough to face …what today almost was?"

There is a pause there. Sherlock sounds unsure as he asks, "Almost? I don't understand. This day has no sentimental mark on the calender that I am aware of. What could a day almost be that your advice could affect?"

"The day of his post-mortem?"

The phone is dead silent. Molly refuses to break it.

"I see what you mean. You do realize there could be…unexpected complications, if you propose to actually date him."

"Besides the gun and the personality shifts and the bag of treasures he's amassed you mean?"

Sherlock lets out a frustrated growl. "Sex. If you are dating him, he will expect sex. Are you saying that something has changed since our first conversation? Because I can speak with surety here, the man may seem like mild little sweet John, but he does something to women and he doesn't give up once he's on the scent. It is like a disease with him. I am sure that half of the women he brought home could not deal with his insatiable appetite. I am not joking here. It has been seven months and his libido will most likely rebound in a way that may boarder on insanity. If that desire is focused on you…I shudder to think how it would end."

"I am not some innocent little lost lass here. He isn't going to corrupt me."

Sherlock sighs, "Dammit you are so sweet and naive. Look at this logically. He has already shown you a propensity to belittle you. He has superior physical strength. He was never completely rational when he had not found frequent outlet for his base needs. He shot your phone last night. He's suicidal. He has nothing to lose. I don't dare attempt to put this delicately because you will find some way of sticking flowers in it and pretending not to understand. You are setting yourself up to be raped. I mean it, if he were to break, it wouldn't be a matter of dubious consent because he was pushy and you were too polite to say no. That kit you described, doesn't just frighten me for him."

"What are you saying? You want me to forget it?"

"No…I don't know. If you date him, stay with him on his bad nights. Are you prepared to have consensual sex with John? Because I am not asking that of you. And if you choose to play coy then prepare to have that choice removed from you. He could keep you in a state of near coma indefinitely."

"And then you would hate me for it," she whispers.

"No, I wouldn't, but I would blame myself for putting you in the position in the first place."

"You wouldn't be my friend anymore. You will abandon me."

"Not the way you think."

"Tell me. I deserve to know. So I can think ahead. I know you, maybe better than anyone. I know what you can be like when you get...hurt. You wouldn't stand by me? You'd never look at me again, not even as your friend. I'm not a fool Sh…" She remembers she's not supposed to use his name. "Sorry. But you always act like I am stupid. I keep hoping someday you will… but you won't. Just poor little stupid, Molly. Wonder what I can't talk her into risking today."

"Don't think you can predict me. I trust you and I care about you, but don't think you can use this against me. Don't you dare play with me. I know what I owe you. I owe you my life."

"Piss off, Sherlock. I don't want your IOU. I care about you. I have all along. There is no account balance to be paid off with pity kisses and pretending you...I just wanted you to respect me. That's all. If you can't ever figure that out...never mind. I'll do whatever I have to to keep him alive. Maybe someday...you'll figure out this boring friendship stuff,"Molly snaps then sighs deeply. They both hold on the line not speaking.

Sherlock for once, gives in and breaks the silence first. "I don't mean to be so hard. So cruel. Not to you. You already have my respect. If it were otherwise, I wouldn't have so much trouble telling you what I want. Which is why I can't ask you to take such a risk. It's like flipping a coin on your lives. I'm calling this plan off. I will figure something else out. I know he's unstable and unpredictable. He always has been. He's much more damaged than he pretends. I know him. I didn't know he would be so long in his grief for one friend when he has had so much practice at dealing with death."

Molly is just as unhappy with the idea of failing as she is with the idea of Sherlock figuring out that the ship has already been sprinkled with pixie dust and she's just counting stars for her heading. "So now you want to give up? I'll give him a ring and tell him he's a really great guy but... I've decided to date girls now? Or I just want to be friends? Oh, how about I'm married to my work?"

"The free witch lessons seem to be working for you, Molly. Bravo."

"The teacher notices? All my hard work is paying off, after all," she replies bitterly.

"High marks to be expected...wait, this is getting us no closer to solving our problem. Moving on, shall we? Here is why you must not continue, just hear me out. John is used to getting his way. He can be very subtle, but he sucks people in and before you know it, you discover a need to...it's difficult to explain. John is more clever than I when he wishes to manipulate people. He doesn't even realise it, but if one method fails, he doesn't stop, he just changes tactics. He can be so patient, but once he sees it is not working, he can be much more agressive. In his current state of self-destructive grief he could be volitile. It could easily take an ugly turn, Molly. I fear there are some dark sides to my John. If you came to such harm, by anyone's hand I would kill them slowly and they would scream until every vision of them harming you was wiped away. If you came to such harm by his hand, I would have to end him. I would make it quick for him. Then I would abandon you. Because, I would have to follow him."

Molly sniffs and her voice shakes, "And if it's consensual? If I were to keep him alive and that was my last resort, if I choose it. What then?"

"I would never ask that of you. Never."

"I know, but..." Molly says but can't seem to find the words to explain that it's to late to worry about that now.

"I don't want you to take the chance. It is to much to ask."

"If you do respect me, you will let me decide. I'm not giving up. No matter what you say. Figure something out or just tell him the truth, but I can't tell him to push off and hope he takes it well."

"I don't know what to say...my gratitude ... I. Molly, I'm so...I didn't dare..."he stumbles for words, relief and fear clearly not something he is used to dealing with often.

Molly for once is relieved to hear a knock on the door. It is probably her landlady. "Ok. I have to go. There is someone at the door."