And here's the final chapter. Once again thank you all for your comments and reviews. I have to admit I had a lot of fun with this fic. Huge thanks to MizJoely for betaing this story and general wonderfulness. Also MrsMCrieff for all her Brit help (there was a LOT in this chapter) she is the best. All the mistakes are mine.

Hey! Sherlockian_87… psst, over here... I love you, Streets, I hope you know that. Thank you so much for all your support and for your wonderful friendship. You are true blessing. You've been here for me since my first fic and that means the world to me.

I own nothing. Enjoy ~Lil~

Chapter 4 - Oh What A Night -

Stupid… stupid… stupid! This is why I don't do these sort of things! he thought as he walked down the pavement looking for a shop to buy some cigarettes. After about twenty-five minutes he found one and bought a pack. Then he just kept walking and thinking.

When he'd woken up with Molly in his arms that morning, he had no intention of acting on his instincts. They'd basically always been there. A Molly inspired erection wasn't a new thing, it had just never happened while she was wrapped around him, moaning his name (although that might have been his fault, what with the tickling and all). But when she'd denied everything, he suddenly felt like he needed to prove himself. And then God help him…once he started, he didn't want to stop. His challenge was, yes, a bit manipulative, but genuine nevertheless. He wanted her. Not just her mouth, though that had been amazing, but he wanted more.

Then after… he knew she was just lashing out because she'd found out about her mother's finances, but it had hurt. Sherlock wasn't used to being the losing side, as it were, and he had no idea of what to do with the emotions it brought up. So he walked and smoked. He walked for hours. Before he knew it it was well past dinner. His phone had rang several times, but he just ignored it, he had to be in the right frame of mind before seeing Molly once again. Finally he could avoid it no longer, he had to talk to her and wrap up this situation with her mother.

He arrived back at the house to find Jackie nearly hysterical.

"Oh Sherlock!" she exclaimed. "Molly had some sort of fit, yelling at me about my savings, as if she has any right. Then she ran out of here looking for you. Tad, that dear sweet man, went looking for her. Please you have to find him!"

"TAD! You're worried about Tad?" He laughed bitterly. "Of course you are, God forbid you concern yourself with Molly for one moment. That dear sweet man is hustling you and now that he knows you're penniless there's no telling what he'll do." He pulled out his phone. "Any idea where either of them went?"

"I'm hardly penniless and I've told you all I know. What do you mean, he's hustling me?" she added frantically.

"Just what I said, you idiot!" He pulled up his voicemail and listened. He had several messages from Molly saying that she was sorry, that she just was upset about her mum and asking him to come back, then...

'Mr. Holmes, I seem to have something of yours. If you want it returned in the same condition I found it, meet me at Sainsburry's car park by 11pm, alone. Bring two hundred thousand pounds. I've looked into you, Holmes. You have the resources. Oh, Molly says hi!'

He replayed the message again listening to it very carefully then immediately rang his brother. A little over two hours, the thought. And I can finally punch the American.

"Sherlock, I thought you were sending me a photo," Mycroft said.

"Forget about that. Tad Chancellor, or whoever he is, has Molly and is holding her ransom for £200,000," Sherlock explained.

"Fine, but it's coming out of your inheritance."

"I'm not giving that bastard any money. I need you to make sure I don't go back to prison when I kill him." He heard Jackie gasp and turned his attention to the older woman. "Don't you even start. This is all your fault. If you cared more about your own flesh and blood than screwing young men, Molly wouldn't be in danger!"

"How did I put Molly in danger?" Mycroft asked.

"Not you, Mycroft! Send reinforcements if you must, but I'm meeting them at 11pm with or without your help. DON'T contact the local police."

"As if I would. Have you phoned John?"

"No, I can handle this, I don't want him involved. Just be ready to deal with the aftermath, understand?" he said, trying to get his meaning across.

"Sherlock, I know how you feel about Dr. Hooper, but don't do anything stupid."

"I'm getting her back one way or the other." As he rang off he asked Jackie, "Where do you keep your guns?"

Molly's father had owned a small off-license. When sold it couldn't have brought more than £120,000. And savings? How exactly does a dying man manage to save almost a half a million pounds? He'd paid for Molly's university in advance before his death and Sherlock was well aware of her investment portfolio, thank you Mycroft. No, Harold Hooper wasn't just an unassuming shopkeeper, he had connections. Molly's father was a very minor player in the Irish mob. Most likely a go-between; a bit of money laundering and book making. But he had managed his money well and been very good at keeping secrets. Clearly Molly had inherited her father's discretion because Jackie was about as subtle as a herd of charging rhinos. Oddly enough he'd never figured out whether or not Molly knew about her father's side business. She was quite good hiding certain things. It was just another thing that confused him about the woman; she may wear her heart on her sleeve but ask her to keep a secret and it's in no safer hands.

At the moment all of that was immaterial. He needed a weapon and after a bit of arguing, Jackie had shown him her dead husband's cache of guns and ammunition. He asked Jackie if Tad was aware of Mr. Hooper's shady past.

"No, of course not," she sniffed. "I don't go around telling people about the things Harold got up to! I'm a respectable woman now, Mr. Holmes."

Sherlock had his own opinion of what kind of woman she actually was, but refrained from unleashing on her for Molly's sake. As a matter of fact he was fairly certain Harold only got involved in things to keep Jackie happy. But that was all conjecture at this point.

The guns, two handguns and a small caliber rifle, were in a hidden floorboard under her bed. Sherlock questioned her about it since she'd purchased the house after Mr. Hooper's death. Her response was that she'd learned a thing or two in twenty plus years of marriage to a man with his kind of 'extracurricular activities'. She said nothing was missing and that Tad must not be aware of them. That was good enough for him.

He arrived at the car park twenty minutes prior to the meeting time. It was completely deserted, just as he assumed it would be. Sherlock walked the perimeter of the park. It wasn't very large and took him less than seven minutes. By the time he'd finished a dark, late-model sedan pulled up. Jackie's young man got out of the backseat, a gun trained on the driver.

Sherlock watched as Tad walked her to the front of the car, one arm around her shoulders, his gun pointed at her temple. She wasn't shaking but he could see that she was scared. He locked eyes with her and tried to silently convey that he'd get her out of this. The small smile she returned to him strengthened his resolve. And he needed it. This move seemed out of character for the con-man and Sherlock wasn't sure what Tad was capable of. Not to mention his emotions were getting in his way. He took a deep breath and cleared his mind.

"One question," Sherlock called out.

"Yeah, what's that?" the criminal yelled back. There was about thirty feet separating them.

"What's your real name? I mean Tad Chancellor... Horrible alias." Sherlock heard Molly laugh.

"I'm not giving you any personal information, Mr. Holmes."

"What happened to first names? We're practically family and all," Sherlock said, stalling.

"Oh, I don't think Jackie will want to have much to do with me after I kidnapped her daughter. Although," he glanced at Molly. "she's not exactly fond of you, ya know?"

"I figured that out when I was six, you arsenugget," Molly shot back.

Tad ignored Molly's insult. "Where's the money, Holmes?"

"Do you take American Express Black? I'm afraid I don't usually carry that much on my person." He patted his chest, feigning innocence.

"Then how do you propose getting out of this situation with your girlfriend still breathing?"

Sherlock laughed. "Girlfriend? I thought you said that you looked into me, Tad. Not very good at at this, are you? Of course if you were you would have figured out about Jackie's money issues. Molly's not my girlfriend."

"Don't give me that shit. Your sexual exploits are well publicised in the tabloids. But really, seven times in one night? That seems a little farfetched." He leaned closer to Molly but kept his eyes on Sherlock. "Does he wear you out, honey?"

Sherlock's instinct was to lunge at he arsehole, but he had to keep him talking until he could get a shot or until Tad made a mistake. "That was all fake, as is this. Molly asked me to find out why a young American was dating her mother. She suspected you were attempting to get your hands on her savings and you were."

"I've heard a LOT of faking in my life, Holmes. What I heard in the bathroom this morning wasn't fake," the idiot responded.

Sherlock couldn't stop himself. "Yes, Molly and I were privy to some of your work last night. Or Jackie's work, I should say. She deserves a Bafta for that performance. However I wouldn't go around bragging about how often women have to fake their appreciation for your love making. A little free advice."

"You arrogant son of a bitch!" His grip tightened on Molly's shoulder. "You don't think I'll shoot her?"

"Well, I plan on stopping you, of course," Sherlock said confidently.

"I went through your room while you were in the shower. You didn't bring any guns, no weapons at all. I understand you consider yourself some kind of genius, but words aren't going to help, smart guy." He laughed.

"Unfortunately for you, you're wrong," Sherlock replied.

"Oh, really? You plan on beating me with words?"

"No, not necessarily." Sherlock pulled out the Sig Suaer 40 cal from his breast pocket. Just then a shot rang out and his heart felt like it literally stopped until he realised that Tad had fallen, not Molly. The shot came from the copse of trees to Sherlock's right, Tad went down like a lead weight and Molly stumbled sideways, then used the bonnet of the car to help get her footing. Suddenly six black clad figures rushed the car park.

Sherlock slowly placed his gun on the ground and he raised his hands in the air as he waited for the okay to go to Molly. He kept his eyes on her the whole time. She kept looking from Tad to Sherlock. Less than a minute later, he got the signal.

"It's all clear. Go ahead, Mr. Holmes," the closest agent said, and Sherlock ran towards his pathologist.

Molly was rushing toward him at the same time. He caught her around her waist and held her close. "Are you okay?" he asked, his face buried in her neck.

"Yes, I'm fine. He barely touched me, just jerked me around. Slapped me once… maybe twice. Though that might have been because I kneed him in the bollocks."

Sherlock pulled back and looked at her face. He couldn't help but smile even though he saw the angry red mark on her cheek. "Of course you did. I'd expect nothing less." He gently kissed her cheek then walked closer to the groaning con-man who was being restrained by two MI-6 agents. A rubber bullet to the shoulder didn't even start to pay this man for what he'd put Molly through.

"Agent…?" Sherlock was already dialing his phone.

"Matthews, sir." The young man held out a hand to Sherlock.

He shook the agent's hand and said, "I'd like exactly sixty seconds with the accused."

"I don't think…"

Sherlock winked and held up a finger to his lips, hushing the man. The phone was already ringing. "Ah, brother dear. Would you be so kind as to tell Agent Matthews that you authorise a sixty second conversation between myself and Mr. Chancellor?" Pause. "Yes, she's fine." He looked over at Molly, who was talking to a female agent. "Thank you." Sherlock handed his phone to Matthews. "He wants to talk to you," he said before walking over to Tad.

The American was on his feet once again, flanked by two agents. "Oh please, you wouldn't hit a defenceless man. Something I've learned since I've been in England… you Brits, you have honour," Tad said, his lip curled in contempt.

Sherlock smiled as he removed his jacket, then stretched his neck, first to one side the the other. "You're right, we do. I however, don't give a shit about that right now. You hurt my friend and you missed something when you looked into me."

"Yeah, what's that?"

"There's really no point in knowing now, is there?" Sherlock said with his most unpleasant smile as he unbuttoned his cuffs.

"All right, Mr. Holmes," Matthews walked up to the detective and handed him back his mobile. "you have one minute."

"Thank you and can you take Dr. Hooper… somewhere else?" He turned to Tad, then stopped and called out to the agent again. "Actually, can you have her escorted back to her mother's house? I don't want her here at all."

The agent smiled and answered, "Of course, sir."

Molly was packing her and Sherlock's bags as her mother hovered behind her asking questions.

"How, Molly? How did you know that Tad wasn't who he said he was?" Jackie asked for the third time.

She closed Sherlock's suitcase and turned to look at her mother. "I just knew, mum. Okay? I've worked with Sherlock for a lot of years and I just… I just had a feeling."

"Or is it because an ugly old woman could never get an attractive young man like him? Is that it?"

Molly sighed. "No mum, it's not. Look, I'm sorry that…"

"No you're not! At least have the decency to admit that you could care less that I've had my heart broken by some con-man. I'm hurting here, Molly. And you're just leaving me like you always do. You're in such a rush to run back to London with your hot-shot detective…"

"You selfish cow!" Molly screamed. "I was kidnapped by that man. He held a gun to my head! I don't even have to ask Sherlock to know you were more concerned about Tad than me… it's the story of my life. So yes I'm leaving. You deal with your broken heart and empty bank account on your own. And if you want to start acting like a proper mother, well, you have my number." She started to pick up both suitcases when Sherlock walked into the room… smiling.

"Mrs. Hooper," he said as he grabbed both bags then he looked at Molly and said, "Our car's waiting, sweetheart."

She nodded. "Goodbye, Mother."

Once seated in the back of the government car Molly took a good look at Sherlock and asked, "Is that blood on your shirt?"

"Possibly," he answered with a wave of his hand. "If you need to cry…"

"I'm not going to cry, Sherlock. I'm fine," she said, and even she heard the edge to her voice. Taking a deep breath, she remembered she owed the man a great deal, including an apology. "Look… I'm sorry."

"What for?" Sherlock said, looking genuinely confused.

"What I said earlier."

"I'd forgotten about that," he said with a laugh. "Besides you're more than forgiven. I've certainly said worse. You were quite upset."

Molly smiled and nodded, wondering if she could take back what she said about not crying.

"John and Mary send their love."

"That's nice. When did you talk to them?"

"On my way here. They were worried about us. Mycroft phoned them, I assume. Loves to gossip. I told them about what happened. Mary was especially fond of the bollocks kicking part."

She laughed and tried to relax but there was just too much tension. After everything that had happened she needed a glass of wine or a good shag (even a bad one would do at this point). A few minutes later she noticed that they were heading in the wrong direction. "Where are we going?"

"I booked us a room at a B&B nearby. I assumed you wouldn't want to stay at your mother's house." He paused and stared at her for a moment. "I hope that was okay?"

"A room… for us?"

He stared at her for a moment then said, "Yes, and I woke up a very grumpy woman to get it. But seeing that they were empty and I offered to pay double, I'm not sure why she was complaining."

Molly smiled; she really wasn't looking forward to a car ride all the way back to London at the moment. Also it answered at least some questions she had lingering in her mind. "Are you aware that I love you?"

"Not officially, no."

"Well I do. And if you don't like it, then stop doing incredible things like saving my life and talking grumpy women into renting you rooms for me," she said as she scooted a little closer.

"Noted." He put his arm around her shoulder and pulled her in, kissing the top of her head. "I didn't actually save your life, though. Agent Matthews, as it turns out, made the shot. Would you like me to give you his number?"

"Is he the one who looked like Tom Hiddleston?"

"Who's Tom Hiddleston?" he asked.

She laughed. "Nevermind that. I'll let you know in the morning if I want his number."

Sherlock threw their bags on the floor and immediately started stripping Molly of her cardi and dress the moment they walked through the door of their room. She was down to her bra and knickers before she even had a chance to turn on a light.

"God… Sherlock," she moaned as he backed her into the wall next to the door. His lips were driving her crazy, licking and sucking on her neck.

"Mmmm," he hummed against her skin.

"Want you naked," she managed.

He pulled back and shucked his suit jacket. Molly kicked off her shoes and turned on the light next to the bed. "You know, Sue may just be the grumpiest woman I've ever met in my life," she said as she took out her earrings.

Sherlock was working on his shoes and socks. "I told things I suffer for you, Molly Hooper." He unbuttoned his shirt and Molly pushed it off his shoulders.

When he reached for his trousers she stopped him. "Let me. I couldn't do it this morning." She slowly undid the fastening and zip, then pushed the garment off his hips. As she looked down she said, "Has anyone ever told you that you have a lovely prick?"

"No, I don't believe so. I've been called a prick before. By you as a matter of fact, just this morning, actually. But never…"

Molly laughed. "Well you do! Gorgeous!" She took him in hand and started stroking him slowly. His head fell back as he cursed. "Like that?"

"Yesssss."

"I want you inside me," she whispered.

His head snapped forward and he picked her up, tossing her onto the bed. He covered her body with his and kissed her breathless as he reached behind her and fumbled with her bra.

Molly couldn't help but laugh. "Should have gotten it off while we were standing."

Sherlock didn't seem think it was so funny. He huffed in frustration then moved his hands to the front of the bra and just pulled the flimsy material apart.

''You… you tore… ahhh… fuck that's sexy!" She grabbed his face and pulled him down for another kiss.

His mouth traveled down her chest, nibbling and sucking as he went, while his hand made its way inside her knickers and started working her into a frenzy. "Speaking of lovely things…" He thrust two fingers inside her and started pumping. "This is gorgeous!"

She was already close… just a little more...

Suddenly his fingers were gone. Molly looked up to see him sucking them clean. Fuck! Then he pulled her pants off with one hand as he sucked on her nipple, causing Molly to dig her nails into his scalp and beg for more. Smoothly, as he switched breasts, he grabbed for something on the bed side table. As he sat up Molly realised what he had.

"Where'd that come from?"

"It was a requirement with the room. As much as I paid for this," he gestured around them, "it was the least Sue could do for us." He rolled the condom on and positioned himself, then looked her deep in the eyes. "This isn't how I envisioned this weekend, Molly."

"Me either."

"Any regrets?."

"No… none." Even if it breaks my heart, she added in her head. Totally worth it.

He thrust forward and Molly's back arched involuntarily.

"Fuck, you feel amazing," he said once fully seated.

"Yeah, you too," she whispered. Oh, God… this is really happening, she thought as Sherlock drove into her over and over again. It was incredibly intense. He stayed close, kissing her constantly, anywhere he could reach. He stroked her hair and sucked her nipples. He told her she was perfect and beautiful. Her Molly Hooper… beautiful! Within minutes she felt her orgasm building again. It felt like a storm. She felt like she was about to break… physically, emotionally. Quite literally break from the sheer enormity of what they were doing, of what they'd been through that day.

Then it happened.

Sherlock's body tensed as he held her tightly, one hand fisted in her hair, his head buried in her neck. His end triggered hers and she came hard screaming his name.

They stayed like that for a minute or so then he rolled over and disposed of the johnnie. Molly instantly felt a bit chilled at the loss of his body. Sherlock must have noticed because he nudged her and she moved to the side so that he could cover her up with the duvet. He joined her, resting his head on her chest, his arms around her middle.

"Molly?" he said after a few minutes.

"Yeah Sherlock."

"Did you mean it? When you said you love me, did you mean that?" he asked.

It had been a day of firsts for Molly Hooper. The first time she'd ever been kidnapped and held at gunpoint. The first time she'd ever stood up to her mother. And the first time she'd ever had sex with Sherlock Holmes. Perhaps this wouldn't end in disaster.

"I did, actually."

"Good." He sighed. "Because I don't actually have that agent's phone number and I hate asking Mycroft for favours." He looked up with a smile. "Besides, I love you too and I understand it's better when these things go both ways."

She giggled and said, "A tad bit."

"Oh for God's sake, Molly! That was horrible!" he said, returning to his original position, though he was laughing so hard the bed was shaking.

Their laughter died down and Molly was running her fingers through his hair several minutes later when a thought struck her. "When did you stop faking?"

He picked up her hand and seemed to study it in lieu of answering her. As a matter of fact so much time passed she was certain he wasn't going to acknowledge her question at all. Finally he kissed the palm of her hand and said, "I don't think I ever was."

Okay, thank you all for reading. Drop me a line and let me know what you think. I love hearing from you all! ~Lil~