Molly's head felt fuzzy, as she tried to drag herself out of the nap she didn't remember deciding to take. Her eyes blinked open, taking a minute to adjust to her unfamiliar surroundings. Cold grey concrete walls, a heavy duty door with bars over the window, the barely padded shelf she was laying on. She bolted upright and the last piece of the puzzle fell onto place: handcuffs around her delicate wrists. Was she in prison? Why? She remembered now the conversation with Moriarty, getting tranquilized, and Sherlock running towards her... But he'd been coming to save her hadn't he? He wouldn't have let this happen, would he?

The jingle of keys and click of the door being unlocked were surprisingly loud, echoing in the small bare cell, and Molly looked up at the door, relieved to see Sherlock's curly black hair through the window in it. As the door opened and he stepped in, her relief faded to uncertainty at the coldness of his features. If she was expecting comfort, she was rethinking it now.

"The UK laws on aiding and abetting give a sentence equivalent to that of the person whom the accused were aiding." Sherlock recited, prowling slowly in an arc around her. "Given the extent of Moriarty's crimes over the years, there is little doubt he'll be going down for life, assuming he doesn't get an opportunity to rig the jury again, that is. So, Mrs Holmes, where does that leave you?"

Molly could feel herself quivering, terrified by the prospects he laid before her, and more than a little intimidated by this side of him, but she wouldn't let herself be bullied for trying to do the right thing, she lifted her chin defiantly and said in an only slightly shaky voice. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Oh but I think you do. We heard everything, Molly, your coat was bugged." He informed her, stopping in front of her, his eyes fixed on her in an accusing and haughty stare.

"And is it a crime now to comfort someone whose niece has been kidnapped?" Molly retorted, equally accusational.

Sherlock smirked at her show of bravado, a predatory but bitter flash of teeth.

"No, but it would have been the catalyst for it, had we not intervened. What did you think would happen when you told him? That he'd back off, and we'd give Kaitlin back to him and everyone would live happily ever after?" He paused to give her space to answer, and she just shrugged, looking away as the seriousness began to sink in, breaking down her defiance. "That's what I thought. Well let me tell you what really would have happened. You see, when we took Kaitlin, we knew we were playing with fire. He called me himself, and he assured me that we would pay for taking her. He threatened to kill everyone I care about in revenge. And don't for a second think he was just bluffing or exaggerating, no, when Moriarty says he's going to kill someone, he does it. Just this morning a body turned up in the Thames, that of Kaitlin's driver, who should have been responsible for her at the time we took her." Sherlock had felt slightly bad for that when he found out, until he read the man's record. Only Moriarty would send a pedophile to sit outside a school every day waiting to pick up his kid, and pick out his next victim. "The only thing stopping him taking his revenge, was the fact we still had Kaitlin, and our bluff that if he hurt or killed any of our friends, the same would happen to her. Do you see now? If you had finished your sentence, told him that Kaitlin was in no real danger, then you would be condemning our friends to painful deaths. John and Mary, their daughter, Lestrade, Mrs Hudson, my parents... Maybe even Mycroft if he could get to him. And Me, of course. All dead on your hands."

Tears streamed steadily down Molly's face, as the reality of what she had nearly done threatened to overwhelm her. Each name was like a blow to the chest, and she wondered how she would ever face her friends again knowing she had nearly been the cause of their demise.

"I didn't know" she sobbed, "I didn't realize. You have to believe me, I'd never have said anything if I'd known-"

"Ignorance is a poor excuse. You should have got all the facts before deciding to take matters into your own hands" Sherlock retorted, advancing on her.

Molly shrank back, knowing now he had good reason to be angry with her, but not knowing what he would do in his anger.

"I'm sorry Sherlock, I'm so sorry, please."

She felt his hands lock around hers, and looked down, surprised to see him slipping a key into her handcuffs and freeing her.

"I know" he said simply, gracing her with a small smile when she looked back up at him with wide tear-stained eyes. "Come on, let's get you home. I already cleared the charges before coming in here" he told her, walking to the door and holding it open for her also.

"But... But..." Molly couldn't get her words out through her tears, more confused than ever.

"But what?"

"But I thought you hated me for helping Moriarty!" She forced out the painful words.

"Never." Sherlock assured her softly "I could never hate you. I love you too much."

Molly could hardly believe what she was hearing after the conversation they had just had, but that didn't stop her staggering to her feet and throwing herself at him, wrapping her arms around his chest as tight as she could and crying into his shirt-front. He gave her a few minutes, holding her tightly in return until she had calmed down enough, then he lifted her chin to look her in the eyes.

"You were just doing what you thought was right. Me, John and Mary knew when we started this that what we were doing was... Dubiously moral. But that's what a Consulting Detective, an Army Doctor and an Ex-Assassin - that's Mary by the way, in case you didn't already know - that's what we do. We make the hard choices for the greater good, so people like you can be safe and sleep easy not knowing what was done to keep you that way. I thought you understood that when you married me, but if not..." He looked away and closed his eyes, hiding his vulnerability "I'll understand if you wish to... Reconsider."

Molly put a soft hand on his cheek, turning his face back toward her and pressing a chaste kiss to his lips. Only when her lips left his did he open his eyes and look at her.

"Never. Take me home?"

AN; So there you have it, not quite the resolution most of you were expecting I know, it's funny how a writers perception of where the story is going can differ from the readers, but I hope you are all happy with it, even if it didn't match your expectations.

Only one more chapter to go and then this will all be wrapped up. Thanks again for all the continuing support and encouragement I've received for this story, I would never have discovered this story inside my head, if you hadn't kept asking for more from the beginning, so thanks, it's been a wonderful ride. See you in the Epilogue ;)