This is a Molliarty fic because they're just a beautiful couple. If you like it drop me a review! Any suggestions would be lovely. I hope you enjoy it! I'm hoping to make it much more exciting as it goes on. Sorry for any mistakes or failures. Read and enjoy.

Jim Moriarty had always been an organized man. He knew how many people were working for him, who he could trust to get the job done well, who he couldn't trust even the slightest bit, when his appointments were and when he'd be needed by one of his clients. He had, not only his calendar planned out weeks in advance, but he made sure his workers had theirs planned as well. He had his suits all arranged in his closet by color so he could wear whichever one caught his eye that morning. He knew exactly which days to bother his favorite rival Sherlock and which days would be best served in other places. When people called him, he had his secretary trained to know when it was a code 5 which was interesting and important all the way down to a code 1 which was not very interesting, but he could use it when he was bored for something to do.

He was a genius and as a result he had a plan ready in case anything went wrong at anytime. However; he did not have anything planned in the case of falling in love.

Well, love was a term he used lightly. He didn't really love anything. He was interested by things or he wasn't. He enjoyed things or he didn't. Love wasn't a concept he was really familiar with himself. Usually he was messing with everyone else's feelings of love. It was strange messing with his own.

When he started his fake relationship with a quiet pathologist, his intent was only to mess with Sherlock Holmes. But he ended up finding this pathologist both enjoyable and interesting. He wasn't just interested in her, but fascinated by her as well. She made him feel things he didn't even know it was possible for him to feel. She was so much more than what Sherlock thought she was. She acted so shy and kind and seemed so unimportant not to mention dull. But what kind of dark mind must she possess if cutting up bodies was what she did for not only a living, but seemed to bring her joy as well. She wasn't just an ordinary girl and Jim wanted her for himself. Jim was never one to deny himself what he wanted. He'd kept an eye on her since their little breakup and knew something was wrong with him when he felt surges of anger towards any male who tried to date her. He was even angry when Sherlock referred to her as his pathologist. The thought made Jim scoff lightly.

Molly Hooper was his. And no one was going to take her away from him. It had been approximately three months since his little encounter with the great Sherlock Holmes. Which meant it had been three months since he'd seen his sweet Molly. It was about time to fix that. He knew she would be expecting him eventually. And that thought made the consulting criminal smirk.

Molly looked over at the flowers on her desk. Every month, on that same day, she would receive flowers. And every time there was a note with them that held only two letters, which were JM. She was too scared the first time they came to tell anyone. It had only been two weeks since she had found out he was a criminal and just using her to get to Sherlock. So she had been depressed and scared for those two weeks. Lestrade had been keeping an eye on her after explaining that Jim...no Moriarty might try to kill her. She had thought maybe this time he was a normal guy who liked her for her. She thought she'd seen and heard from him for the last time when she had broken it off with him.

She would never be so lucky.

Sherlock had been the one to tell her about Jim. Which probably wasn't the greatest idea because he had just taken the opportunity to insult her taste in men again. What did she ever see in that consulting detective? After he was done explaining things to her and bombarding her with questions to get every detail about the man from her as he could she quickly went home and proceeded to jump into bed and cry. She hated herself for being fooled so easily. She hated Sherlock for being so mean to her about everything. She hated Jim for lying to her. But mostly she hated that she had been used once again. It made her angry.

But back to the flowers that were on her desk. They were black and white roses, like usual, and they were stunning. She didn't know the purpose behind them since she wasn't sure what this Jim's motives were. If they had been from her Jim, sweet Jim from IT, she would have said they were to apologize and make her feel better until she saw him again. But this wasn't sweet Jim from IT it was Jim Moriarty, the world's only consulting criminal. She had checked the flowers for poison and for chemicals that shouldn't be there, but couldn't find any. There were no signs that they had been tampered with or a camera on them or anything. She was so confused by them. For the next three months she received flowers. On the same day. Always from the same person. They made her miss him. The more she got the more she remembered and the more she remembered the more depressed she felt about him being gone.

Sherlock had tried to explain to her that Jim was an evil man who wasn't capable of feeling. But she didn't really believe him about that. She had been with Jim for a few weeks and was just starting to understand him a little. Even through his little act. Molly Hooper was not an idiot. She was actually quite clever, but not in the traditional sense of the word. Sherlock was clever when it came to riddles and facts. Jim was clever with outsmarting the police and putting together crimes. Molly was clever when it came to people and what they were feeling and what they needed. There were only two people that ever posed a challenge to that cleverness. Two people that she couldn't see through easily. One was Sherlock Holmes, but she'd learned through time how to see what he was feeling and what he needed. The other was Jim Moriarty. Maybe Sherlock was right and he was a man incapable of feelings and who didn't need anyone in his life to care about him. But Molly would never truly believe that.

The first thing she ever doubted the great Sherlock Holmes for and it had to be over this crazy criminal.

She decided since there wasn't anything wrong with her flowers, she didn't need to say anything to anyone. What's the big deal? It'd be her little secret. She was still angry at Sherlock for being rude to her anyways. Why did it matter that she was getting gifts from Moriarty? What would that help Sherlock do? Knowing what she did about the consulting criminal he would have covered his tracks well, so there really wasn't any point in Sherlock knowing. Plus they made her feel special for once.

The fourth month of getting flowers was the month of her birthday. She didn't know what she was expecting from anyone that day, but what she got wasn't exactly as she had in mind.