Hi guys, this is my first attempt at a Sherlock fic, any comments are greatly appreciated :)

Chapter Five

It had been utterly gut wrenching, emptying her flat of all her possessions. It was as though she had been slowly and steadily chipping away at her life, keeping as little as possible of her existence, and liberating herself of painful memories, tying emotions and crippling insecurity. With minimal clothes, a few precious belongings and all of Toby's things, Molly closed the door to her once home, a wave of relief overtaking her. She would be leaving the keys for Meena to post to her solicitors once it had sold and the reminder of her possessions would be collected by a local charity who would be putting them to much better use than she had for them. Closing her eyes, she shut out the hustle and bustle of the street and drew in a deep breath, holding it momentarily before releasing it slowly, calm pricking her skin and filling her veins. She threw her final bag into the taxi and followed, closing the door behind her.

The driver took off immediately, Molly having already settled the fare, and she collapsed back into her seat. The last week had been a whirlwind. Her life completely tipped upside down. She had met with Professor Gordon and agreed to take the temporary position at Western Sydney University, said goodbye to all who she knew and broken out of her cycle of life. All that awaited now was the unknown. The though was exhilarating. The adventure and excitement of the situation had slowly began eating away at the fear and dread that had gripped her soul and she was beginning to feel more like herself again. Like before that.

'I just wish I could have put things right with Sherlock…' She thought morosely, sighing heavily, and closing her eyes.

Their last meeting had ended with her saying her goodbyes and him effectively giving her the silent treatment. Molly had struggled to pinpoint where exactly things had gone wrong. Perhaps she had said the wrong things to him in the lab and he didn't understand she was leaving, either that or he just didn't care. Maybe it was wanting to not talk about the call, or even the call itself. It had been irrevocably damaging to her. Perhaps it had been there before, her increasing frustration and despair over his descent into addiction and misuse of his body and intolerance of his inability to see his own worth.

And now this was it, her last stop on the way to her short escape from London. Toby meowed loudly from his cage by her feet, and she smiled warmly at him. He always brought her joy, no matter what mood she was in or how low she felt.

"Don't worry, it won't be much longer," Looking back out the window wistfully her stomach gave an uncomfortable pull, "This time tomorrow we'll be having the time of our lives!" And yet the thought only clouded her mind, and in turn her eyes with tears. She was leaving everything behind, even if only temporarily, upheaving her entire being into unchartered territory.

The taxi gave a sudden lurch and pulled to a stop. Molly furrowed her brow in confusion – They were nowhere near the airport.

"Excuse me Sir-" She began, stopping suddenly as the door to her right was pulled open unceremoniously and the head of pretty but serious looking brunette appeared before her.

"Doctor Hooper? This way please." She removed herself and stood back waiting for Molly to follow. She narrowed her eyes, the woman seemed awfully familiar, but she couldn't place her. Shuffling to the edge of the seat suspiciously she stared up at her,

"And you are..?" She asked cautiously, the woman's smart dress, tall and headstrong stature and intense nature was intimidating, though she tried not to show it. Fiddling with the bottom of her coat she gulped a little as her throat dried, and the woman whipped out her mobile, typing into it furiously.

"Anthea."

"Is that your real name?" She paused momentarily, staring at Molly with a small grin tugging at the corner of her lips,

"No." Strangely this relieved Molly slightly, and Anthea returned to her vigorous typing.

"Mr Holmes will escort you – Your belongings will meet you there."

Molly stepped out of the car immediately, dread washing through her and he stomach sucking itself into a small of a space as possible as her fingers quivered. Almost as soon as she had done so, Anthea had whipped around her and into the taxi, shutting the door behind her before it sped away. Molly was left with no options but to get into the black car revealed in the wake of Anthea's exit.

'Mr Holmes…' Molly thought hesitantly, 'Question is…Which one?' She shuffled uncomfortably for a moment, apprehension growing and spreading its tendrils throughout her being. The thought of getting into a car with Sherlock seemed unthinkable at the moment. The distance they had been keeping recently had been a source of comfort to her. And suddenly, it all made sense, 'Mycroft.' John had mentioned he had an assistant. Though Molly had obviously misheard having thought he said Andrea. She knew exactly who was waiting for her. And besides, Sherlock couldn't even bring himself to speak to her the last they met, never mind be confined with her inside a metal cage and hurtling down the M4 towards Heathrow Airport. Giving herself a small shake, she straightened and marched over to the car, trying futilely to peek inside the dark tinted windows before pulling the door open and stepping inside.

Mycroft was decidedly much more himself than when they had last met. Molly had to admit he looked rather dapper in his clean cut, neat fitting dark pinstriped suit with read tie and crisp white shirt, a black umbrella leaning against his knee and the seat on which he sat, staring at her intensely. He seemed to have pulled himself back together and rebuilt the walls he had once hidden behind before the

"Doctor Hooper." He stated, a small smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth.

"You can drop the formalities Mycroft; I think we're a bit passed it." Her own voice surprised her, and she gulped and his mouth flatlined and he gave a curt nod in response,

"My apologies for commandeering you, however Doctor Watson passed on the message that you wished to speak to me. And since you are going to be otherwise occupied for the foreseeable, it seemed ample opportunity to enquire as to your needs."

Molly sighed at him and raised her eyebrows. He always did know how to complicate a sentence.

"You…" She began and then swallowed. She had in fact forgotten even mentioning it to John in the first place, and now that she had been reminded of it, nerves wracked her being. What she wanted from him was incredibly presumptuous and a little embarrassing to say the least. He was waiting patiently for her to continue, likely only out of a piqued interest in what she could possibly have to say to him which was competing with the boredom he felt in her presence. "You said before…If there was anything you could do…"

"Ah, and there is the reveal," He sat back into his seat studying her, his surveillance made her feel self-conscious and silencing her attempts to voice her request. "So, what is it? First class flight? Promise of employment upon your return? Or…" She was blushing furiously and could feel the pulse in her neck beating stronger. Of course her request would not have been so trivial, it would be something only he could promise. She looked directly into his face as he looked at her quizzically, throwing one of his legs over the other and leaning forwards a little, "Something else…"

"I need space."

"Space?"

"I need to get my head straight."

"Running away you mean?"

"No…" She replied slowly, her mouth drying considerably, 'Why does everyone keep saying that…' She thought, a scowl creeping across her face as she eyed him. She knew he thought she was lying. Maybe she was, but what right did he have to question her or her motives.

"So?" He conceded, "What is it that you require?"

"You have a lot of resources, it wouldn't take much, that's if he-" Mycroft cut her off suddenly and she sucked her tongue into the back of her throat quickly.

"You want me to hide your location from my own brother?" Molly nodded mutely, not trusting herself to speak. "Ah, that makes sense then," He nodded at her, a strange impression upon his face. It may have been surprise, or it may have been amusement, she was unsure, "I had wondered, taking a trip to the airport over twelve hours before your scheduled flight, having said your goodbyes last week, leaving little evidence with those who you know and no forwarding address." He sat forwards and leant into his elbows as he swung his feet back flat and dug them into his knees, hands clasped together tightly, "You are running away."

"It's not running away. It's just easier to have a cut off…For the space," She hardened her features, knowing that weakness would only skew his view on her and make him less likely to adhere to her wishes, "Things have been better. We just need time. So I can…You know…Get over things. And he needs to sort things with you guys, and not have to worry about hurting my feelings."

"I don't think you're giving him enough credit."

"And you're taking away his humanity."

A long silence followed as Molly considered his words as he was no doubt doing for hers. Mycroft obviously has no doubt in his siblings resilience and ability to bounce back in the face of adversity, and in truth, neither did Molly. It was her own resolve she was questioning.

"If I do this for you, you know he won't forgive either of us." She looked at him, his face devoid of emotion. Yet he must have been struggling internally. He knew that they owed her a debt, but it would be at the expense of his family. She had to make him understand.

"It's not something I ask lightly of you," She began, choosing her words carefully, "He may never look, he may never ask you to look either even if he can't find the answers he's searching for. But if he does…I need you to tell him you don't know." Her insides were a kaleidoscope of emotions, and she was struggling to keep her thoughts coherent and her voice unwavering, "I will explain it to him when I return, but for now, we both need to get on with life."

Mycroft was staring at her intently. After a few more moments he closed his eyes and drew in a deep breath, leaning his hand behind him and tapping on the darkened glass that separated them from the driver. Almost immediately Molly felt them move sideways and the vehicle stopped, the slow rumbling of the idle engine the only sound now.

"Thank you for your time Doctor-…Molly," Mycroft shuffled towards the door, seemingly fairly uncomfortable now and desperate to escape her presence and his next words, "I will, of course, adhere to your request as penance for the suffering you have endured," Pulling at his umbrella he stepped out of the car, "Have a safe flight,"

And then he was gone, Molly left to herself once more as the car sped into motion once more.

~x~x~x~

Molly sighed as the sun began to dip behind the horizon, the shadows of the Sydney Opera House casting themselves across the bay from the dying rays of light, stretching their long thin fingers beyond the water to where she sat in First Fleet Park.

The day had been long, and after her shift she had boycotted heading straight back to her apartment on Clarence Street, instead opting for a leisurely walk toward the quay, stopping by the park to take in the fresh air. It was something that she had never tired of in the five years since she had moved to the city. It always brought her a sense of inner peace and tranquillity, particularly after a gruelling stint in the laboratory. Hunger was however beginning to settle in, and she sighed heavily, a slight breeze whipping past her face as she stood and stretched.

It didn't take long for her to arrive at the favourite Irish Bar, P. J. O'Brien's, which was located just around the corner from her apartment, and she settled herself into her usual seat, pulling the all too familiar menu towards her, despite already knowing what she was going to have.

"What'll it be Margaret?" Came the familiar voice of Cooper, one of the servers. She looked up to see his sunny face shining down at her and he seated himself opposite her. He was tall and tanned with blond curly hair and a smile that made most women swoon. Molly however found him utterly hilarious and quite the opposite of charming. He was younger than her by almost eight years, but they had found common ground over to chat about over her time in Australia, and he had come to expect her visits and make them thoroughly enjoyable, along with the rest of the staff. Despite her initial apprehension after settling in the district, and her reluctance to travel and further than the next street over from her apartment and the university they had welcomed her, and bit by bit given her pointers and tips on settling into their way of life in the city.

"Hmmm….I think…" She began, still studying the menu in her hands,

"Nah, don't worry 'bout it! Kiara's on with the Chicken Stack already," He smirked and relaxed into his chair and Molly had to restrain a smile. She was far too predictable sometimes,

"What if I've decided on something else?" She placed the paper down and leant forwards over the table,

"You haven't." He was quite straight in that point, but grinned, nonetheless.

They spent the next hour or so chatting between themselves, Molly filling her empty stomach with her usual meal before washing it all down with a large glass of white wine and tumbling out into street. She had become content with this way of life, the longer she had stayed away from England, the easier her existence had become. She was no longer plagued by anxiety or uncomfortable feelings. She had managed to completely shut out all evidence of her old life apart from Toby and the occasionally video call to John and Rosie and a text here and there to Meena. They had questioned her location for the first few weeks, but eventually succumbed to the fact she would not reveal the details and appeared content with such, even when she had made the difficult decision to inform them that she would not be returning after the three month period. They had argued, they had gesticulated, but she had waved them away with sound reasoning and a happy tone, one of which it seemed no one could reason against. Mrs Hudson had made the occasional appearance in the background, but Molly couldn't count on one hand the times. But the Holmes brothers, surprisingly, had remained silent.

In a way she was grateful, it had made things easier for her to let go of the family, to move on with herself. She had not pursued any relationships over the last few years, having needed to work on herself and her own being before even thinking of venturing into the unknown chamber of her heart, one that she had decidedly locked when she had left London. Over the last few weeks she had finally settled into liking herself again. She was confident, cheerful and chatty, throwing herself into her work as well as having fun with her colleagues. It reminded her of an earlier time in her life, before starting work, where she had once been that person, enjoying her life and making each moment count.

That was not to say that she missed the thrill of London, the excitement of the cases that would be brough into the morgue and the hustle and bustle of the busy city. The small 'family' she had acquired through work and through her friends. She missed that the most.

But all in all, she could say with utmost certainty, she was indeed content with Australia.

Japan's Arc Angel x