Yay! I'm finally about to respond to your reviews... I'm so happy. Guests: Thank you so much, I love hearing from you! Thanks again for the favs/follows/reviews!

Warnings: Just more discussion about the attack. But not much.

Thanks to Miz & Mrs for their help and support. I own nothing, except mistakes. ~Lil~

Molly woke up, well rested though quite sore. The pills John had given her had knocked her out and she'd slept through the night without waking up a single time. Sherlock was nowhere to be found. Falling asleep in his arms was, yes, a bit confusing, but lovely nonetheless. He seemed to be struggling with something; she assumed he was just having a hard time processing his anger towards his brother as well as the guilt of feeling responsible for what happened.

She got up slowly and made her way out of the bedroom to find Sherlock drinking coffee in the kitchen. "Morning," she said as she approached him. "Enough left for me?"

He looked up and studied her for a long moment. "Of course," he said in a serious tone.

"I'm going to the bathroom, be back in a mo'." She shook her head as she made her way down the hall. He was still acting strange. I suppose he's not used to guests, she thought as she finished using the toilet and picked up her toothbrush. Once she finished with her teeth and scrubbing her face she brushed the tangles out of her hair then opened the bathroom door. Sherlock was waiting in the hallway. "Oh, hello!"

"I've already contacted Stamford. You have the week off to recover from your injuries. We need to talk," he said, once again serious, not at all the nervous and jittery Sherlock she had encountered the evening before.

"Fine, sure." She followed him to the sitting room and sat next to him on the sofa, where there was a cup of coffee waiting for her as well some scones. She wasn't loving the idea of having an entire week off from work, however her wrist would make performing autopsies nearly impossible. There were other things she could do of course, she just didn't think arguing with Sherlock was an altogether good idea at the moment.

"Mrs. Hudson brought them up," he said gesturing to the scones.

Molly took a drink of the coffee and nibbled on the pastry. "What's going on Sherlock?"

He licked his lips as he studied her face. "I ah, didn't sleep last night. I spent the night in my mind palace... sorting."

"O-kay."

"Something's wrong- something's... off."

He scooted closer and leaned in, Molly was suddenly struck with the thought that Sherlock was going to kiss her.

"Mycroft didn't check Agent Cumming's financials. So this morning I did some checking myself. Someone paid him to attack you. It explains why he had no previous incidents or escalating behavior. It's also why you were able to fight him off. Which is incidentally why Mycroft doesn't believe you." He looked down at the pastry in her hand. "Finish your scone, you haven't eaten anything since you arrived." He leaned back and continued. "I think the intention was only to scare you- hurt you. Make you think he was going to... assault you." He paused. "I have a call into Mycroft." He rolled eyes. "In a meeting, riiight. Enjoying Second Breakfast more likely," he said in a perfect Scottish accent, reminding her that she had forced him to watch the entire Lord of the Rings trilogy with her while he recovered from his injuries after the Fall. Well, mostly as pay back for destroying her perfectly lovely sofa with a cigarette. He then stood and paced across the room. "You will need to stay here while I eliminate the threat. Understand?"

She tried to wrap her brain around everything he had just said. "Ah... no," she replied.

He planted his hands on his hips and squared on her. "Molly, you're in danger. And I frankly don't trust anyone else to your security detail right now. I need to know that you're safe. I'll take care of that myself, since no one else can be trusted."

Molly stood up and dusted off her hands. "Do you hear yourself? I'm not some damsel in distress, Sherlock."

"You came to me for help," he argued.

"I came to you so you could tell your brother what happened." She paused. "Just how weak do you think I am?"

Sherlock grabbed Molly by the shoulders. She winced, angry bruises from the day before flaring back up. He released her immediately.

"Sorry... that was... I-I shouldn't have..." He looked disgusted with himself as he turned away from her.

Molly had had just about enough of being treated like a porcelain doll. "Damnit Sherlock, that hurt a little. Stop apologizing every five minutes, it's making me uncomfortable." He still didn't turn around. Molly grabbed his arm and forced him to look at her. "Why are you acting like this? I got roughed up a little bit, he didn't rape me. You've already worked out that it wasn't his actual intention." She took him by the shoulders and gave him a shake. "Look, if I agree to stay here will you stop acting like this?"

"Like what?" he asked with a look of pure confusion written on his face.

"Like someone broke your favorite toy," she said and that's when it hit her... oh, well... perhaps... She said nothing. He had been acting so strangely since she arrived and even more so since they decided to go to bed the night before. What on earth is going on in that enormous brain of his? she wondered.

"I do not think of you as a toy, Molly." He huffed and took a step back. "But if I stop apologizing... will you stay?" he asked looking almost vulnerable.

Molly stepped forward. "Yes. But you have to calm down. You won't figure anything out if you're constantly worried about me. I promise," She smiled. "I won't break."

He put his hands on her arms just above her elbows and pulled her closer. "You sure?" he asked moving closer and bending his head.

Molly nodded, not really sure what she was agreeing to. His eyes dropped to her mouth then returned to her eyes. He licked his lips.

"Molly?" he whispered so close to her now she could feel his breath on her face.

Just then the door to the flat opened up and Mycroft Holmes marched in. "Oh, how lovely."

Molly jerked out of Sherlock's hold as he turned to face his brother.

"I see you finished your meeting, Mycroft. Good of you to rush over." He looked over his brother carefully. "You've a bit of jam on your tie."

Mycroft smirked at the younger man, refusing to fall for his childish prank. "I'm here, Sherlock. What is this undeniable evidence you have for me?"

Molly wandered into the kitchen and decided to make some tea, looking for something- anything to do.

"Did you not think to check into Agent Cummings' financials for God's sake..." She heard Sherlock say as she ran water in the sink. She was quite happy to be out of the room even if she could still hear Sherlock and his brother arguing. What the hell was about to happen? she thought. After some searching, she found a tea tray and cups. He was really going to kiss me, wasn't he? No, just calm down before you go back in there. She managed to kill about fifteen minutes, just about all she could, dragging it out by washing the dishes and putting away some of Sherlock's unused science equipment. Finally she could avoid it no longer, she finished the tea and made her way back into the sitting room. Mycroft was seated in a straight back chair and Sherlock on the sofa.

"Ah, Miss Hooper. Good of you to finally join us. I thought perhaps you had abandoned our conversation to seek refuge in Sherlock's bed once again," Mycroft said as he watched her pour him a cup of tea.

"Watch yourself Mycroft," Sherlock warned.

"I'm not the enemy, you know," Mycroft replied taking a cup from Molly.

"No, you let him go yesterday, with two weeks' severance and excellent references."

"I concede that you could be correct... this time, little brother. But the fact still remains that it's simply Miss Hooper's word against Agent Cummings."

"I wonder..." Sherlock started then received a tea cup from Molly. "Thank you Molly. I wonder why you continue to refer to him as Agent, yet you refuse Molly's correct honorific. Why is that?"

Molly smiled as she sat down next to him, though not at Sherlock defending her title. No, she smiled because he was more himself than she'd seen him since she'd arrived. He's back, she thought.

"Force of habit," Mycroft sneered.

"Well unforce it." Sherlock took a drink of tea.

The elder Holmes cut his eyes to Molly. "You're looking lovely in Sherlock's clothes, dear."

Sherlock started to reply, but Molly stilled him with her hand. "I thought if you were going to finally take my situation seriously that perhaps you'd need my clothes as evidence." She took a sip of her tea then smiled sweetly.

Mycroft didn't seem to have a reply and Sherlock just smiled proudly. After a few moments the older man sat down his tea cup and stood up.

Molly got up immediately and went to the kitchen to retrieve the bag containing her soiled clothes. "Here you go Mr. Holmes," she said as she handed it to him.

"Well, not that this hasn't been thrilling, but..." Mycroft started.

Sherlock stood up and interrupted him. "I'm sure you're eager to have these as well." He pulled a small plastic baggy containing a test tube out of his breast pocket. "The samples I collected from Molly last night."

The elder Holmes took it from his brother and slipped into the bag with the clothes. "It seems that we have to locate one Mr. Gerald Cummings. Shouldn't be too hard, I informed him to stay close in case we needed to speak with him again." He picked up his umbrella and turned to leave.

"I'm sure he did just as you asked, Mycroft. Paid criminals who attack unarmed woman usually tend to listen to their former employers," Sherlock said standing, sliding his hands casually into the pockets of his dress trouser. "You'll understand if I keep a close eye on Molly in the meantime." He looked at her and winked.

Mycroft didn't miss it though. "I would expect nothing less." Then he turned and left.

Sherlock watched his brother leave then immediately turned to Molly. "We need to collect your cat, Molly." He looked her over. "And clothes as well."

Anthea was waiting in the car when Mycroft returned.

"Any news at all?" he asked the PA.

"No sir. Cummings hasn't been contacted and he hasn't left his flat."

"Damnit. It was a long shot, but the only one we had. We can't put Sherlock off any longer, he found the agent's bank accounts. Bring Cummings in. But I want to question him again before my brother gets a hold of him."

What IS Mykey up to? Thanks so much for reading!