"Hold your breath and count to ten.

Feel the earth move and then

Hear my heart burst again."

Hot water cascaded down Molly's bare back and she flinched. She braced herself, bowed her neck, then turned so it fell on her chest instead. Her mouth fell open and she inhaled sharply. Just let it all go, she told herself.

A muffled clatter penetrated the bathroom walls, and she thought she heard Jim swear. This is what you get when you let him cook. Molly smiled to herself. Thankfully, Poppy was at school; if she hadn't been, Jim would have punched himself for swearing in front of her.

She began humming to herself, some song she'd found on Jim's phone when he wasn't looking. She didn't doubt that he knew what she was doing, but he let her think she was being clever. She couldn't remember the words, so she hummed the jazzy tune to herself.

Her thoughts drifted to and fro, moving lazily between Jim's smile and thoughts of Poppy. They were so much alike. This was everything she wanted: A nice house, the man she loved, and her beautiful, intelligent, perfect daughter. I'd like to go back to work though, she thought forlornly. When was the last time she had examined a corpse, or even glanced at a medical book? Far too long. There weren't a lot of opportunities for an experienced pathologist in the small towns around their secluded home. But in a bigger city, with hospitals and criminals creating plenty of work for her… Witness protection wouldn't allow it. Her heart plummeted into her stomach. What if they know about Jim? They're watching, how can they not? She clapped a hand to her mouth.

We can't stay here. We have to leave.

"Fucking cheese!" Jim was hunched over the stove, muttering and swearing to himself over the crackling of hot butter in the frying pan.

"Something I can do for you?" Molly smiled and Jim shot her a frustrated look over his shoulder. His spine protruded from his back in sharp relief.

"I've got this, thank you very much." He turned back to his work and loosed a sting of profanity. "Fuck!"

A foul smell reached her and she crinkled her nose in disgust. She took a seat at the table, pulling her jumper down to cover her kitten-printed sleeping shorts. Finally, Jim placed a plate before her; with a slightly charred mess of what looked like eggs, cheese, and some kind of meat.

"Well?" He waited expectantly, his hands on his hips and his eyebrow raised. Molly took it gingerly and raised it to her mouth. The charred egg crumbled in her mouth, and she struggled to keep it down. She placed her fork on the plate delicately.

"What is it?"

"Its an omelette." Jim's shoulders slumped.

"Oh."

They both stared at the mess on her plate. "Well. That's it for cooking then. I'm the most dangerous criminal mind the world has ever seen, this is bloody ridiculous." Jim scooped up the plate and let the burnt mess slide into the garbage.

Molly sat back in her chair, biting her lip. Jim bustled around the kitchen, putting dishes away and boiling water for tea. He gave her ponytail a slight tug. She jumped.

"What?"

"What's on your mind?" He frowned when she said nothing. "Molly, its painful how obvious it is when you don't want to tell me something. Just spit it out."

"I think we should leave."

Jim blinked. "Leave?"

Molly nodded. Jim's face became serious, and he took the seat across the table. "Care to elaborate?"

"I don't think its safe here," Molly said, "Not anymore." For a split second Molly imagined suited men breaking down their door. She saw Jim face down on the floor with a gun pointed at his head, someone wrenching Poppy from her arms and slapping handcuffs on her wrists. "I don't want anything to happen, to you or Poppy or-"

"Nothing's going to happen. I won't allow anything to happen." Jim paused. His eyes narrowed and he twisted his head to stare at her intently. "Molly."

Molly avoided his gaze. Her hands began to tremble, so she folded them together and pressed them against the table. "I know what they'll do if they find out about us."

"Alright." He rubbed his chin, making quiet scraping noises against the dark stubble. "Any specific place you had in mind?"

"No," Molly admitted reluctantly. "Nowhere that they couldn't find us."

Jim's eyes suddenly became sharper. He met Molly's eyes and frowned. He seemed on the verge of saying something he really didn't want to. He bit his lip, then shook his head. "If you want to go, we'll go."

A weight lifted from Molly's chest. "Thank you."

"But it has to be soon. Within the next few days, soon."

"Alright." Molly grinned. "We'll have to tell Poppy."

"Tell her it's an adventure." Jim grinned and Molly's heart leapt.

"Thank you." She stood up and embraced him. "Thank you so much."

"Oh please," he said. "Don't get all gooey heart eyes on me." Molly wriggled from his grasp and kissed him. He groaned, then laughed and pulled her close again. She stood her tiptoes and pressed her lips against his. He moaned, almost a growl, and bit down on her lip.

"How long until Poppy gets home?" He slipped his hands under Molly's shirt. His cold hands moved slowly along her back. Molly shivered.

"She won't be back until three."

"Thank god." Jim grabbed Molly's legs and pulled her up around his waist. She smiled, her heartbeat accelerating, and held onto him tightly. His kisses grew rougher, teeth and tongue, his grip around her squeezing the breath from her lungs. Slowly, he carried her towards the bedroom.

His teeth left marks on her arms, neck, and lips. She felt his legs bump against the bed and he tossed her onto the duvet. Molly reached for the headboard and pulled herself back, then watched Jim rip off his baggy t-shirt and jeans. When he was rid of his clothes, he jumped onto the bed. He pulled off her jumped, then began to work her cotton shorts, inch by inch, down her thin legs.

Jim ran his hand over her stomach and leaned in close, running his lips over her jaw and back to her lips. Molly's arched her back, pressing her hips against his.

He bit her lip, harder this time, and pushed her back down with his hip.

"You're about to experience the wrath of a god."

"Good?"

Molly nodded her head tiredly against Jim's chest. She could feel him grin with satisfaction.

"Jim…"

"Hm?"

"What about Germany?"

"Yeah, maybe."

"I don't know though. Poppy…." Molly's mind, sluggish and tired, moved slowly across the map to different cities. Each one presented its problems, and each was rejected. "I want Poppy to be somewhere safe, so she can grow up like a normal person."

Jim laughed. "She's not normal, I mean, look at us."

"You know what I mean." Molly flopped back onto Jim's chest. "We should at least go somewhere they speak English."

"That doesn't really leave a lot of options."

"I don't know what else to do."

Jim sat up, rolling Molly off his chest and jumped off the bed. "Let's stop wasting time here and go do something." He stretched his arms over his head and smiled. "When Poppy gets back, we'll ask her."

Molly sat up and beamed at him. "That's…" She stared at him, slightly surprised. "That's a perfect idea."

"I know." He winked, then turned to his closet, freshly stocked with suits and ties of all colors. "Let's go have some fun tonight, then we'll talk about it when we get back." He pulled out a steel grey blazer and held it to his chest. "Yes? No?"

"Sure," she said, smiling. "I'd like that."

Molly peeked at her reflection in the window and straightened the strap of her dress. She paused and listened to Jim humming from the bedroom as he perused his wardrobe. She bit her lip to stifle her laugh, and checked the time on Jim's phone, left carelessly close to the edge of the coffee table. The babysitter would be there soon to look after Poppy; some local teenager she had found online.

She could hardly contain her excitement. They were going to the only restaurant in town, then they would be escaping the jaws of the British government, of Mycroft, to be happy somewhere else. Molly hadn't gotten this dressed up since before Poppy was born. Tonight is going to be perfect, she thought gleefully. She spun on her heel and let herself forget everything that lay heavy in her mind drift away; The past, the future, everything that could go wrong slipped into nothing, leaving only her excitement and the echo of Jim's laugh behind. Her eyes closed and she hugged herself. We're so close to being free…

The doorbell clanged and Molly's eyes snapped open.

"That the babysitter?" Jim called from the other room.

"Yeah," Molly called back. She checked the time again and pulled the door open to let her in. "You're early-"

"Molly."

Molly's heart collapsed. A gust of frigid wind pushed past the figure in the door and swept the smile from her face.

"Sherlock." She gripped the doorknob until her knuckles went white. "You can't be here."

"I just…" Sherlock looked down at her with surprised confusion. "I came to see…. See how you were doing. If you were well." He flexed his gloved hands and frowned. His eyes roamed over her, lingering on her dress and makeup. He blinked, and his brow furrowed. "Are you going out?"

"Um, no, I…" She stammered. Her mind scrambled for some sort of explanation, but none surfaced. She cast her eyes to the floor and tried to control her breathing. This isn't happening. Before she could protest, he had pushed past her and slammed the door shut.

"Wait, stop-"

"Someone's here, Molly," he sneered. His gaze swept over every corner of the room, catching on Jim's phone, then the sweater draped across the back of the sofa. "Met someone special, have you?" His tone was biting, and Molly's face burned with shame.

The door of the bedroom clicked open, and Jim appeared in the doorway, a silk tie in each hand. He held them up to his chest. "What do you think, love?"

Sherlock turned to face him, his mouth twisted in a mocking smile.

"And here he is, the man of the hour-" Their eyes met and Sherlock froze. Jim's smile fell, then his hands dropped to his sides. His eyes flicked to Molly's. A smirk twisted across his lips. Sherlock's mouth fell open.

"You." He took a step back, looking wildly back and forth between Jim and Molly. She looked up at him and choked when she saw the betrayal in his eyes. "This whole time, you've been hiding with him?" Sherlock's voice cracked. Molly said nothing. "WITH HIM?" He roared. Molly jumped.

"Yes, I-"

Sherlock shook his head and stormed towards Jim. "What do you think you're doing here? This isn't you, this is a trick isn't it?"

Jim remained silent, his eyebrow raised and his smirk deepening. Sherlock snarled furiously.

"Answer me!"

A door slammed and Molly's heart panged again. Poppy appeared, her face white with fear, and ran to Jim's side.

"Dad," she cried, reaching up to him. Jim smiled and lifted her in his arms. Poppy glanced at Sherlock fearfully and buried her face in Jim's shoulder.

Sherlock's eyes burned with fury. "You-" He stammered, his eyes fluttering wildly from Poppy to Jim's smirking face.

Jim looked over Sherlock's shoulder, straight into Molly's eyes. He winked. Sherlock followed his gaze, caught Molly's reluctant smile, and laughed coldly. "Sentiment? Really?" He reached into his pocket and produced his phone. "I'd never thought you'd let someone get to you." As he dialed his phone, Molly glanced around her desperately, scanning the furniture for something helpful. She had to do something, she couldn't let Sherlock call Mycroft, let him ruin everything.

"This is really quite disappointing," Sherlock was saying. He raised the phone to his ear. He turned away from Jim to sneer at Molly. "I hope you're happy-"

"I AM!"

From the end table nearest her, Molly grabbed a vase, raised it, and smashed it over Sherlock's head. It shattered noisily, sending pieces of porcelain hurtling through the air.

The phone slipped from Sherlock's hand, and with a final expression of dazed betrayal, he fell to the floor. A trickle of blood ran down over his ear.

"Shit," Jim breathed. Poppy squirmed, and he held her tighter.

She stared at Sherlock's face, still etched with anger. "I'm fine," she said. She looked at Jim, and smiled at his bewilderment. He stepped over Sherlock's body and took Molly's hand.

"That was exciting."

A light caught Molly's eye, and she saw Sherlock's phone on the floor. The call was connected, and a tiny voice shouted through it, instantly recognizable as that of Mycroft Holmes.

"Sherlock! Are you there? For god's sake, someone get over there now!"

Jim squeezed Molly's hand, and she nodded. Poppy looked up, and Jim planted a small kiss on her forehead.

"Where do you want to go, Poppy?" She beamed at him, her eyes glowing with excitement.

Molly opened the front door, and they walked together into the darkness towards Jim's car.